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The first step to expanding your reality is to discard the tendency to exclude things from possibility.
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
Possibility
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Reality
Discard
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wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers.
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Whatever's merely willful, and not miraculous (be never it so skilful) must wither fail and cease - but better than to grow beauty knows no.
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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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Next to of course god America i / love you land of the pilgrims and so forth oh
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Only by you my heart always moves.
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We can never be born enough.
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maybe god is a child ‘s hand)very carefully bring -ing to you and to me(and quite with out crushing)the papery weightless diminutive world with a hole in it out of which demons with wings would be streaming if something had(maybe they couldn’t agree)not happened(and floating- ly int o
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the poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople... you and i are human beings mostpeople are snobs.
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Now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened.
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Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
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it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful
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At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
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Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?
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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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So, when kiss Spring comes we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss lips because tic clocks tock don't make a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to kiss me.
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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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So far as I am concerned, poetry and every other art was, is, and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality.
e. e. cummings
Life ,for eternal us,is now
e. e. cummings