E.E Cummings

Edward Estlin Cummings, had a way with words I could only wish to have. 

Most certainly my favorite poet.

somewhere i have never travelled, 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 you wish 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 colour 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

- E.e Cummings

Selected Poems 1994 pg 65

what time is it?it is by every star

a different time,and each most falsely true;

or so subhuman superminds declare

-nor all their times encompass me and you:

when are we never,but forever now

(hosts of eternity;not guests of seem)

believe me,dear,clocks have enough to do

without confusing timelessness and time.

Time cannnot children,poets,lovers tell-

measure imagine,mystery,a kiss

-not though mankind would rather know than feel;

mistrusting utterly that timelessness

whose absence would make your whole life and my

(and infinite out) merely to undie

- E.e Cummings

Selected Poems 1994 pg 101-2

Spring is like perhaps a 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.

-E.e Cummings

Selected Poems 1994 pg 20-21

it is so long since my heart has been with yours

shut by our mingling arms through

a darkness where new lights begin and

increase, 

since your mind has walked into

my kiss as a stranger

into the streets and colours of a town-

that i have perhaps forgotten

how,always(from

these hurrying crudities

of blood and flesh)Love

coins His most gradual gesture,

and whittles life to eternity

-after which our separating selves become museums

filled with skilfully stuffed memories

- E.e Cummings

Selected Poems 1994 pg 68