A little look at E.E. Cummings (and his poetry (?))

 So for two months I haven't posted anything, but I also don't feel I have to apologize 'cause I was enjoying everybody else's posts. The rule is, as long as I don't seem dead, I don't have to be sorry... but I'm still sorry :'( 

Anyway, I was wondering what I could write about that wouldn't take too much brain power, as I really need to work on my garden boxes if I want my mother and father to have anything to eat when the economy completely collapses, so I decided on Poetry! I could talk about poetry all day long with little effort. 

Despite my desire for simplicty and swiftness, I still wanted a bit of a challenge, so instead of writing about what makes Shakespeare or Tennyson great, I decided to talk a bit about E.E. Cummings.
I don't know what people on the internet say about this fellow, but I imagine his legacy is one of controversy, which I completely understand and wholeheartedly endorse. Much of Cummings' poetry is nonsense and has no meaning that us mere mortals can divine (and I'm pretty sure the immortals can't divine either), which I'm pretty sure he admitted on several occasions, so I'm not angry about it. My basic philosophy on E.E. Cummings and his nonsense verse is that he is (was) of course welcome to write it and have fun with it, but I just don't want to be asked to call it poetry. If it has no meaning and you can't even read what it says, it's not poetry.

 Don't get me wrong, I know most of what seems nonsense at first sight can be understood with much careful and deliberate thought and reading, but you see, that's the opposite of exactly what I like about Cummings' good poetry. He uses words that make you feel, not necessarily that make sense when thought of, but oh how you feel what they mean. Before I show some of my more abstract favorites, I will share one of Cummings' more sensible and understandable poems, and also one of my favorites.

~

i am a little church(no great cathedral)

                   far from the splendor and squalor of hurring cities
        -i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
          i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

          my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
                         my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
                     (finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
                     whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness

 

around me surges a miracle of unceasing
    birth and glory and death and resurrection:

     over my sleeping self float flaming symbols

                    of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church(far from the frantic

                          world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
         -i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;

         i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

         winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to

     merciful Him Whose only now is forever:

                    standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence

                         (welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
       ~

Isn't that wonderful? What is my favorite line? You ask, in eager curiosity. I mean, the opening line in itself is fantastic, but I always feel anticipation for the coming of the line '-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest; i am not sorry when silence becomes singing'. 
Now how about a love poem? E.E. Cummings was quite famous for his love poems, as he wrote a ridiculous number of them. His most famous one, 'I Carry Your Heart With Me', melts my soul everytime, but since I have a compilation of the entire works of Cummings, I figured I should share a more obscure one that I fell in love with.

~
the first of all my dreams was of

a lover and his only love,

strolling slowly(mind in mind)

through some green mysterious land

until my second dream begins-

the sky is wild with leaves;which dance

and dancing swoop(and swooping whirl

over a frightened boy and girl)

but that mere fury soon became

silence:in huger always whom

two tiny selves sleep(doll by doll)

motionless under magical

foreverfully falling snow.

And then this dreamer wept:and so

she quickly dreamed a dream of spring

-how you and i are blossoming

~

Abstract, I grant you, but I can follow the story all the way to that just too-gorgeous ending. That was one of E.E. Cummings strengths, his endings. I sometimes will wade my way through a confusing and bewildering poem just to read that ending with all the build-up behind it.

Here's a little one that struck my heart:

~

time,be kind;herself and i

know that you must have your way

have it gently with ma belle-

but for beauty,understand,

life(and also you) would end

-time,she's very beautiful

~

The punctuation and line arrangement in this poem is a fantatic demonstration of how it can change the entire mood or feeling of a line. He's pleading with time, though he knows time must have its way. But you know, without beauty, life and time and meaning and all would be nonexistent... oh time, she's very beautiful. That last line gets me. I can hear the tone so well, though I don't know why. It's a very heartfelt exclamation and plea. Don't know what the deal was with adding 'ma belle', but who am I to judge? ... It is kinda weird though. I'm sure it has some deep meaning I'm unaware of.
Anyway, do we have time for one more? How about another abstract love poem? Wait, before that, you must read this special one. For it to make sense, keep in mind that 'anyone' is a specific person and 'noone' is a specific person →

Gosh, I love that so much. 'When by now and tree by leaf, she laughed his joy she cried his grief, bird by snow and stir by still, anyone's any was all to her' 😭 I love the lyricism and flow of it all, and the turns of phrase that just mange to make sense (little by little and was by was), and those that don't make any sense at all but sound so wonderful (and down they forgot as up they grew). 'Little by little and was by was' seems to me to be the poet saying "If you can say by and by, why the heck can't you say was by was?" 
Now for one more abstract love poem:

Sorry for it being so big, that's what it gave me. I needn't say much on this... the opening line is original without being original, and the rest is unique and abstract without being unintelligable. It really makes my heart warm. If a guy wrote that for me I would be both confused and touched to the soul. '-Sunlight and singing welcome your coming'... Sighhhhhh.
I have to eat lunch now. I really enjoyed making this post, tell me if you want more poetry posts. If you don't and you hate poetry, keep it to yourself. Do you like E.E. Cummings?  Do you detest him? Mixed feelings maybe? Had you heard of one of these poems, all of them, none of them? Please tell me in the comments, I get ever so lonely talking about poetry to myself... nah, that's stupid, I have lots of friends who love talking about poetry with me, as does my older sister. Still, I would really love to hear your thoughts. God be with you, and don't forget to read a daily abstract love poem.