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who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you
e. e. cummings
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e. e. cummings
Age: 67 †
Born: 1894
Born: October 14
Died: 1962
Died: September 3
Novelist
Painter
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Cambridge
Massachusetts
e. e. cummings
Edward Estlin Cummings
E. Estlin Cummings
e e cummings
EE cummings
Edward Eatlin Cummings
Things
Never
Syntax
Pays
Wholly
Kiss
Kissing
Pay
Attention
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our can'ts were born to happen our mosts have died in more
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Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)
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a man who had fallen among thieves lay by the roadside on his back dressed in fifteenthrate ideas wearing a round jeer for a hat
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time is a tree (this life one leaf) but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough
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The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.
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yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds
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Next to of course god America i / love you land of the pilgrims and so forth oh
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Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.
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Well, write poetry, for God's sake, it's the only thing that matters.
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The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.
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Buffalo Bill's defunct
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Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by living? They don’t mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives.
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As small as a world as large as alone.
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I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
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the other guineahen died of a broken heart and we came to New York. I used to sit at a table,drawing wings with a pencil that kept breaking and i kept remembering how your mind looked when it slept for several years,to wake up asking why. So then you turned into a photograph of somebody who’s trying not to laugh at somebody who’s trying not to cry
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Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.
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O sweet spontaneous earth
e. e. cummings
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
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Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
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An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
e. e. cummings
