e. e. cummings

  • Apr. 29th, 2014 at 10:22 PM
beth_shulman: (stock: open book rose)
if seventy were young
and death uncommon
(forgiving not divine,
to err inhuman)
or any thine a mine
to say would be to sing

if broken hearts were whole
and cowards heroes
(the popular the wise,
a weed a tearose)
and every minus plus
--fare ill:fare well--
a frown would be a smile

if sorrowful were gay
(today tomorrow,
doubting believing and
to lend to borrow)
or any foe a friend
--cry nay:cry yea--
november would be may

that you and i'd be quite
-come such perfection-
another i and you,
is a deduction
which(be it false or true)
disposes me to shoot
dogooding folk on sight

if seventy were young

e. e. cummings

  • May. 2nd, 2013 at 9:53 PM
beth_shulman: (stock: open book rose)
Spring is like a perhaps hand

(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.

(Spring is like a perhaps hand)

e. e. cummings

  • Aug. 27th, 2012 at 8:38 PM
beth_shulman: (tv: donna)
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

maggie and milly and molly and may

e. e. cummings

  • Apr. 9th, 2012 at 5:55 PM
beth_shulman: (Default)
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

e. e. cummings

  • Mar. 13th, 2012 at 8:20 PM
beth_shulman: (Default)
Unbeing dead isn't being alive.

e. e. cummings

  • Jan. 17th, 2012 at 9:37 PM
beth_shulman: (Default)
I imagine that yes is the only living thing.

e. e. cummings

  • Nov. 9th, 2011 at 7:32 PM
beth_shulman: (stock: black and white tree scene)
a wind has blown the rain away and blown
the sky away and all the leaves away,
and the trees stand. I think i too have known
autumn too long

          (and what have you to say,
wind wind wind—did you love somebody
and have you the petal of somewhere in your heart
pinched from dumb summer?
          O crazy daddy
of death dance cruelly for us and start

the last leaf whirling in the final brain
of air!)Let us as we have seen see
doom’s integration………a wind has blown the rain

away and the leaves and the sky and the
trees stand:
            the trees stand. The trees,
suddenly wait against the moon’s face.

(a wind has blown the rain away)

e. e. cummings

  • Aug. 2nd, 2011 at 2:17 AM
beth_shulman: (Default)
into the strenuous briefness
handorgans and April
darkness, friends

i charge laughing.
Into the hair-thin tints
of yellow dawn,
into the women-coloured twilight

i smilingly glide. I
into the big vermilion departure
swim, sayingly;

(Do you think?) the
i do, world
is probably made
of roses & hello:

(of solongs and, ashes)

(into the strenuous briefness)

e. e. cummings

  • Jul. 6th, 2011 at 7:23 PM
beth_shulman: (Default)
no sunbeam ever lies

e. e. cummings

  • Apr. 10th, 2011 at 3:09 AM
beth_shulman: (book: meg powers)
tomorrow is our permanent address

and there they'll scarcely find us(if they do,
we'll move away still further:into now

(all ignorance toboggans into know)

e. e. cummings

  • Mar. 8th, 2011 at 12:00 AM
beth_shulman: (tv: cj cregg)
somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

(somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond)

e. e. cummings

  • Feb. 1st, 2011 at 2:11 PM
beth_shulman: (jellicoe road)
...deeds cannot dream what dreams can do...

(as freedom is a breakfastfood)

e. e. cummings

  • Dec. 19th, 2010 at 2:41 PM
beth_shulman: (black and white tree scene)
the hours rise up putting off stars and it is
into the street of the sky light walks scattering poems

on earth a candle is
extinguished        the city
with a song upon her
mouth having death in her eyes

and it is dawn
the world
goes forth to murder dreams…

i see in the street where strong
men are digging bread
and i see the brutal faces of
people contented hideous hopeless cruel happy

and it is day,

in the mirror
i see a frail
dreams in the mirror

and it
is dusk         on earth

a candle is lighted
and it is dark.
the people are in their houses
the frail man is in his bed
the city

sleeps with death upon her mouth having a song in her eyes
the hours descend
putting on stars…

in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems

(Tulips and Chimneys, Impression IV)


e. e. cummings

  • Dec. 13th, 2010 at 10:48 PM
beth_shulman: (violin)
It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.

e. e. cummings

  • Nov. 24th, 2010 at 9:58 PM
beth_shulman: (black and white tree scene)
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
—the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

(since feeling is first)



beth_shulman: (Default)
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