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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

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
Ideas
Hats
Men
Wearing
Round
Rounds
Fallen
Jeer
Lays
Roadside
Among
Thieves
Back
Dressed

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what if a much of a which of a wind gives the truth to summer's lie bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun and yanks immortal stars awry?
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It is with roses and locomotives (not to mention acrobats Spring electricity Coney Island the 4th of July the eyes of mice and Niagara Falls) that my poems are competing.
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The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
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And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.
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All ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
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Who knows if the moon's / a balloon, coming out of a keen city / in the sky - filled with pretty people?
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It takes three to make a child.
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It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
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No evil is so worse than worst you fall in hate with love.
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for whenever men are right they are not young
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Lovers alone wear sunlight.
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Listen there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go.
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all nothing's only our hugest home the most who die, the more we live
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O sweet spontaneous earth
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Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death
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May my heart always be open to little birds, who are the secrets of living. Whatever they sing is better than to know. And if men should not hear them - then men are old.
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When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began
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Seeming's enough for slaves of space and time - ours is the now and here of freedom. Come.
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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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it's no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Mostpeople have less in common with ourselves than thesquarerootofminusone. You and I are human beings mostpeople are snobs.
e. e. cummings