Fairbanks;This April Snowstorm Contemplating Shutters
Fairbanks;this April snowstorm contemplating shutters
shutters clasped snugly avoiding scene
where yesterday with hopes of spring
snow turns my thoughts to ice,
a fresh blanket of white
accented by frozen footprints from Lily
no not the flower
my poodle
my heart(who hops daintily,
as if a bunny that Easter has left behind)
she barks to hurry herself back inside
teasing spring winked
yesterday!(ice melted from
the eaves in translucent droplets
now hanging daggers with points shimmering in light)while
flowers slumber beneath the snow awhile longer
Night flirts
with dancing auroras
|
Author Notes
E. E. Cummings
American 1894 - 1962
Edward Estlin Cummings, popularly known as E. E. Cummings, with the abbreviated form of his name often written by others in all lowercase letters as e. e. cummings, was an American poet, painter, essayist, author, and playwright. His body of work encompasses approximately 2,900 poems, an autobiographical novel, four plays and several essays, as well as numerous drawings and paintings. He is remembered as a preeminent voice of 20th century poetry, as well as one of the most popular.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the "Poet's Corner":
e. e. cummings has been dubbed the rule breaker
it is recommended to read him in spring after a long, stuffy winter for a breath of fresh air
he was fascinated with modern art and admired Picasso
"e. e. cummings took all the customs of poetry and the conventions of proper English and turned them on their head. He created his own rules for titles, punctuation, form, and grammar, and not for a lack of education; Cummings grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts and attended Harvard, where he was an extraordinary student but rebelled against its conservative, academic atmosphere."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paris;This April Sunset Completely Utters
Paris;this April sunset completely utters
utters serenely silently a cathedral
before whose upward lean magnificent face
the streets turn young with rain,
spiral acres of bloated rose
coiled within cobalt miles of sky
yield to and heed
the mauve
of twilight(who slenderly descends,
daintily carrying in her eyes the dangerous first stars)
people move love hurry in a gently
arriving gloom and
see!(the new moon
fills abruptly with sudden silver
these torn pockets of lame and begging colour)while
there and here the lithe indolent prostitute
Night,argues
with certain houses
by e. e. cummings (courtesy of the poetry nook)
"Almost anybody can learn to think, or believe, or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. The moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself - in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting."
E.E. Cummings (Quote courtesy of Goodreads)
The picture is taken from my front door this April morning with our fresh two inches of snow. (Not unusual for Alaska in April, but yesterday it did look like Spring wanted to be sprung)
|
|
