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Selected Poems, 1923-1958
This selection, made by Cummings himself in 1960, offers a comprehensive introduction to his most characteristic work — whether love poems, satirical squibs or nature poetry — and represents the range of his experiments with lyric form, syntax and typography, which combined to offer a radically individual and spontaneous view of the world.
121 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
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About the author
E.E. Cummings
369 books3,950 followersEdward Estlin Cummings was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on October 14, 1894. He began writing poems as early as 1904 and studied Latin and Greek at the Cambridge Latin High School.
He received his BA in 1915 and his MA in 1916, both from Harvard University. His studies there introduced him to the poetry of avant-garde writers, such as Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound.
In 1917, Cummings published an early selection of poems in the anthology Eight Harvard Poets. The same year, Cummings left the United States for France as a volunteer ambulance driver in World War I. Five months after his assignment, however, he and a friend were interned in a prison camp by the French authorities on suspicion of espionage (an experience recounted in his novel, The Enormous Room) for his outspoken anti-war convictions.
After the war, he settled into a life divided between houses in rural Connecticut and Greenwich Village, with frequent visits to Paris. He also traveled throughout Europe, meeting poets and artists, including Pablo Picasso, whose work he particularly admired.
In 1920, The Dial published seven poems by Cummings, including "Buffalo Bill ’s.” Serving as Cummings’ debut to a wider American audience, these “experiments” foreshadowed the synthetic cubist strategy Cummings would explore in the next few years.
In his work, Cummings experimented radically with form, punctuation, spelling, and syntax, abandoning traditional techniques and structures to create a new, highly idiosyncratic means of poetic expression. Later in his career, he was often criticized for settling into his signature style and not pressing his work toward further evolution. Nevertheless, he attained great popularity, especially among young readers, for the simplicity of his language, his playful mode and his attention to subjects such as war and sex.
The poet and critic Randall Jarrell once noted that Cummings is “one of the most individual poets who ever lived—and, though it sometimes seems so, it is not just his vices and exaggerations, the defects of his qualities, that make a writer popular. But, primarily, Mr. Cummings’s poems are loved because they are full of sentimentally, of sex, of more or less improper jokes, of elementary lyric insistence.”
During his lifetime, Cummings received a number of honors, including an Academy of American Poets Fellowship, two Guggenheim Fellowships, the Charles Eliot Norton Professorship at Harvard, the Bollingen Prize in Poetry in 1958, and a Ford Foundation grant.
At the time of his death, September 3, 1962, he was the second most widely read poet in the United States, after Robert Frost. He is buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Boston, Massachusetts.
source: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/e-...
He received his BA in 1915 and his MA in 1916, both from Harvard University. His studies there introduced him to the poetry of avant-garde writers, such as Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound.
In 1917, Cummings published an early selection of poems in the anthology Eight Harvard Poets. The same year, Cummings left the United States for France as a volunteer ambulance driver in World War I. Five months after his assignment, however, he and a friend were interned in a prison camp by the French authorities on suspicion of espionage (an experience recounted in his novel, The Enormous Room) for his outspoken anti-war convictions.
After the war, he settled into a life divided between houses in rural Connecticut and Greenwich Village, with frequent visits to Paris. He also traveled throughout Europe, meeting poets and artists, including Pablo Picasso, whose work he particularly admired.
In 1920, The Dial published seven poems by Cummings, including "Buffalo Bill ’s.” Serving as Cummings’ debut to a wider American audience, these “experiments” foreshadowed the synthetic cubist strategy Cummings would explore in the next few years.
In his work, Cummings experimented radically with form, punctuation, spelling, and syntax, abandoning traditional techniques and structures to create a new, highly idiosyncratic means of poetic expression. Later in his career, he was often criticized for settling into his signature style and not pressing his work toward further evolution. Nevertheless, he attained great popularity, especially among young readers, for the simplicity of his language, his playful mode and his attention to subjects such as war and sex.
The poet and critic Randall Jarrell once noted that Cummings is “one of the most individual poets who ever lived—and, though it sometimes seems so, it is not just his vices and exaggerations, the defects of his qualities, that make a writer popular. But, primarily, Mr. Cummings’s poems are loved because they are full of sentimentally, of sex, of more or less improper jokes, of elementary lyric insistence.”
During his lifetime, Cummings received a number of honors, including an Academy of American Poets Fellowship, two Guggenheim Fellowships, the Charles Eliot Norton Professorship at Harvard, the Bollingen Prize in Poetry in 1958, and a Ford Foundation grant.
At the time of his death, September 3, 1962, he was the second most widely read poet in the United States, after Robert Frost. He is buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Boston, Massachusetts.
source: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/e-...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 81 reviews
April 9, 2018
Selected Poems 1923-1958 was a reread for me. I adore cummings' poetry; it feels fresh and experimental, even reading it in the twenty-first century. The selections for this particular volume were made by cummings himself, from eleven of his previous bodies of work. I wrote out an extensive list of favourite quotes, and have selected five to accompany this review.
- 'the little / lone balloonman // whistles far and wee'
- 'and it's / spring // when the world is puddle-wonderful'
- ' - before leaving my room / i turn, and (stooping / through the morning) kiss / this pillow, dear / where our heads lived and were.'
- 'and dark beginnings are his luminous ends'
- 'death (having lost) put on his universe / and yawned'
- 'the little / lone balloonman // whistles far and wee'
- 'and it's / spring // when the world is puddle-wonderful'
- ' - before leaving my room / i turn, and (stooping / through the morning) kiss / this pillow, dear / where our heads lived and were.'
- 'and dark beginnings are his luminous ends'
- 'death (having lost) put on his universe / and yawned'
July 22, 2019
Cummings is my favourite poet. I love going back to this collection (handpicked by Cummings himself) whenever I feel confused, emotional, needy and in want of comfort. His poems are about infatuation, devotion, spring, war and our human desire for love. Truly one of the most inspired and deeply compassionate poets.
-
One of my favourite poets to read. His work is heavily inspired by the DADA movement and the surrealists, and his writing about love and it's connection to spring and nature is very enlightening.
-
One of my favourite poets to read. His work is heavily inspired by the DADA movement and the surrealists, and his writing about love and it's connection to spring and nature is very enlightening.
July 20, 2013
I am not much of a reader of poetry and even with e.e.Cummings that is true. BUT, even if you do not like entire poems--he has lines that stand out , shine and make you smile. This is one of those poetry books that I have lying around to read when I have just a short time. The special (to me) lines that can be full of satire, sometimes serious and very humorous is why I rated it 4 stars.
November 18, 2007
One of my favorites:
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me
November 29, 2017
Wow. Echt intens verliefd op deze bundel.
--
for whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea'
--
we doctors know
a hopeless case if-listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door;let's go
--
death(having lost)put on his universe
and yawned: it looks like rain
--
for whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea'
--
we doctors know
a hopeless case if-listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door;let's go
--
death(having lost)put on his universe
and yawned: it looks like rain
October 22, 2015
review to follow
August 1, 2022
((delightful !))
June 5, 2022
je l'adoreee. "eternity being so sans until/ twice i have lived forever in a smile." this made me smile and witness some smiles. aw.
so much about timelessness and being in time that heidegger's lens could be interesting. cumming's 'in love' analogue to 'in time', while timelessness translates to unlove.
"since feeling is first/ who pays any attention/ to the syntax of things." the breaks with syntax elevate the said as allowing to overcome at least some language cages. isn't "t,a,p,s" so much more tapping than 'taps'? joy for a neuro-atypical brain. things make more sense when feeling rules syntax and not the other way around. poems richer and words fuller with meaning.
lots of themes: april/ time/ america/ eternity/ violets/ christ/ death/ yes/ sex/ sky/ ...
lots of favourites.
so much about timelessness and being in time that heidegger's lens could be interesting. cumming's 'in love' analogue to 'in time', while timelessness translates to unlove.
"since feeling is first/ who pays any attention/ to the syntax of things." the breaks with syntax elevate the said as allowing to overcome at least some language cages. isn't "t,a,p,s" so much more tapping than 'taps'? joy for a neuro-atypical brain. things make more sense when feeling rules syntax and not the other way around. poems richer and words fuller with meaning.
lots of themes: april/ time/ america/ eternity/ violets/ christ/ death/ yes/ sex/ sky/ ...
lots of favourites.
July 22, 2020
A fine collection of hundred poems by the idiosyncratic American poet, selected by himself.
Cummings uses no capitals, has quite an original use of punctuation and syntax, and makes frequent use of parentheses. Yet, the poems are at times less modern than they first look - they're clearly well structured, and they often rhyme.
The poems range from easy to follow to incomprehensible, but most of them celebrate love, life, nature and the universe. Thus, the poems are often ecstatic in nature, and filled with a rather mystic sense of God, without ever becoming overtly religious. Spring clearly has a special place in Cummings' heart, for many poems are devoted to this particular season.
Despite the recycling of these themes, Cummings never becomes cheap or repetitive. Even better, he can also be satirical, and there's even a sarcastic, angry poem ignited by the 1956 Soviet invasion of Hungary, and the lack of response from the Western countries.
Some of Cummings' poems are real beauties, and certainly invite to read aloud.
Cummings uses no capitals, has quite an original use of punctuation and syntax, and makes frequent use of parentheses. Yet, the poems are at times less modern than they first look - they're clearly well structured, and they often rhyme.
The poems range from easy to follow to incomprehensible, but most of them celebrate love, life, nature and the universe. Thus, the poems are often ecstatic in nature, and filled with a rather mystic sense of God, without ever becoming overtly religious. Spring clearly has a special place in Cummings' heart, for many poems are devoted to this particular season.
Despite the recycling of these themes, Cummings never becomes cheap or repetitive. Even better, he can also be satirical, and there's even a sarcastic, angry poem ignited by the 1956 Soviet invasion of Hungary, and the lack of response from the Western countries.
Some of Cummings' poems are real beauties, and certainly invite to read aloud.
August 2, 2014
This is one of my favourite books. Ever. e e cummings is my favourite poet because of the way he can just express normal things with such originality. It's his short phrases like "hips pumping pleasure into hips" and "you open always petal by petal myself" that do it for me everytime. I love the way he neglects to use titles for his poems and I love the sensuality that he embodies for me.
What I love most about this collection of poems selected by e e cummings himself is the wide variety and the varying themes within each poem. This makes the book perfect to read as you can pick it up at any page and read. Each poem is a snapshot in itself. That, for me, is what makes this book so beautiful.
What I love most about this collection of poems selected by e e cummings himself is the wide variety and the varying themes within each poem. This makes the book perfect to read as you can pick it up at any page and read. Each poem is a snapshot in itself. That, for me, is what makes this book so beautiful.
December 6, 2021
This is an absolutely stellar selection of 100 poems by the 20th century mastery of poetry, e. e. cummings (yes, all lower case, as he liked it). This selection was made by the poet himself.
While Cummings does try to cover his best poems from each book over his career, you can see clearly which books he thought 'aged' better than others - in particular, the volumes is 5 and 1 x 1 were the two volumes from which he drew most poems, and I must say that that was a good choice as that is when cummings was probably at the height of his powers.
Think of this book as a 'primer' of e. e. cummings of sorts. Prepare to have your mind gently blown. You will encounter unusual typography and deliberately mangled syntax, which will at times remind you of Gertrude Stein, without Gertie's annoying persistence to monotonous repetition.
All in all, a stunning collection for anyone who wants to have a basic knowledge of cummings' poetry. If you wish to go the whole hog, and join the (moveable but not entirely portable) feast, then I recommend checking out The Collected Poems of E. E. Cummings.
While Cummings does try to cover his best poems from each book over his career, you can see clearly which books he thought 'aged' better than others - in particular, the volumes is 5 and 1 x 1 were the two volumes from which he drew most poems, and I must say that that was a good choice as that is when cummings was probably at the height of his powers.
Think of this book as a 'primer' of e. e. cummings of sorts. Prepare to have your mind gently blown. You will encounter unusual typography and deliberately mangled syntax, which will at times remind you of Gertrude Stein, without Gertie's annoying persistence to monotonous repetition.
All in all, a stunning collection for anyone who wants to have a basic knowledge of cummings' poetry. If you wish to go the whole hog, and join the (moveable but not entirely portable) feast, then I recommend checking out The Collected Poems of E. E. Cummings.
January 16, 2024
Easier to understand Cummings as an influence on the Merseybeat poets of the ‘60s than try and make sense of what half of this is on about. Disappointing but with some highlights.
June 5, 2024
for every profound and beautiful line there’s at least 200 lines where nothing makes sense and e.e is just wittering on or making non-sensical observations about spring 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨
June 25, 2024
he has like 3 good poems the rest lowkey ASS
BYE
BYE
April 4, 2023
some bits felt too sappy close to tumblr poetry but two poems made me shed a tear or two
highlights
-‘i carry your heart’
-praising a forehead called the moon
-my blood approves and kisses are a better fate than wisdom
highlights
-‘i carry your heart’
-praising a forehead called the moon
-my blood approves and kisses are a better fate than wisdom
March 13, 2024
Favourite Poems: It may not always be so, My love, My father moved through dooms of love, Maggie and milly and molly and mae.
A flowering celebration of spring, love, death, and life. Adored a number of these poems and have mixed feelings on his experimental ones. His modernist approach to language was revolutionary, completely utilising the freedom of a blank page and demonstrating that language is not static.
While this is an important development in poetry, it’s still slightly…annoying? Some of them are good, like ‘ygUDuh’ reading like a slurred, drunk monologue. The poorly-punctuated Cummings poems do have a purpose to their form, but his more conventional ones left a larger emotional impact.
A flowering celebration of spring, love, death, and life. Adored a number of these poems and have mixed feelings on his experimental ones. His modernist approach to language was revolutionary, completely utilising the freedom of a blank page and demonstrating that language is not static.
While this is an important development in poetry, it’s still slightly…annoying? Some of them are good, like ‘ygUDuh’ reading like a slurred, drunk monologue. The poorly-punctuated Cummings poems do have a purpose to their form, but his more conventional ones left a larger emotional impact.
August 20, 2023
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.
Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
[54–5]
November 17, 2022
There’s a poem in this book that someone read to me because either it reminded them of me, or I reminded them of it. I can’t remember which. Perhaps it was both. That day, I went to two separate bookshops to find and buy myself a copy of this collection, so I might commit the poem to memory. Maybe it was the poem itself, or maybe it was the scenario in which I encountered it, but I spent a lot of time and thought on analysing it, because that was the most tender, most human thing I’d experienced in a long time. Reading cummings analytically made me realise there’s more to him than meets the eye, and that the seemingly flagrant abandonment of grammatical and poetic convention actually cleverly conceals a mechanism that initiates catharsis, generates an accessible voice, scandalises the preceding traditions of poetry, and forces a new poetic mode into the canon.
The five stars may be generous of me, but that’s sentiment for you, and the poetry had to be decent for sentiment to be worth anything.
The five stars may be generous of me, but that’s sentiment for you, and the poetry had to be decent for sentiment to be worth anything.
February 6, 2016
A very enjoyable collection. Slightly hindered in enjoyment by Cummings' allergy to any punctuation or many titles. So not for the casual reader for sure. Personally felt that Cummings was more comfortable in the poems centred around love but most were lovely.
Personal favourites in collection:
- The greatest advantage of being alive
- No time ago
- Now all the fingers of this tree (darling) have
- In time of daffodils (who know
- Stand with your lover on the ending earth
- unlove's the heaven less hell and homeless home
- I carry your heart with me
Personal favourites in collection:
- The greatest advantage of being alive
- No time ago
- Now all the fingers of this tree (darling) have
- In time of daffodils (who know
- Stand with your lover on the ending earth
- unlove's the heaven less hell and homeless home
- I carry your heart with me
August 2, 2016
ee cummings is a great poet. The classics are great, but too much talk about Spring.
August 8, 2020
This was originally published on March 31st, 2020 on my blog about the intersection of books and life (www.readingintolife.com):
ee cummings Selected Poems and slowing down
Reading ee cummings’ poetry cover-to-cover has the overall effect of turning your brain into soup. The words twist and dance and slip into crevices where you don’t expect them to fit. And just when you think you’ve truly lost your mind, you find a nugget of tangible wisdom that opens your heart and makes you realize it was all so very worth it.
"For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea"
- Cummings, p. 97
ee cummings is one of my favorite poets for exactly that reason.
This particular selection of poems intercepted my attention in a Waterstones while I was on the hunt for some Mary Oliver poetry. While I found both authors irresistibly calling out to me from the shelf, Oliver’s works happened to be (inexplicably) stupid expensive. So I left her behind for now.
cummings writes primarily about love, spring, nature, freedom, and war, and the intersections therein. He is a flagrant and deliberate rule-breaker. His work is stormy, sarcastic, crude and wily just as much as it is lyric, sweet and feely. You have to slow way down when you read it so as not to miss something.
I was unsure how his poetry would land with me considering all that’s happening right now. Romance and nature and freedom just seem like far away, intangible things that aren’t able to touch my life right now. So, would any of this really resonate?
But, of course, this turned out to be the perfect manual for remembering how to slow down and take in all the details of this life, especially when it feels like our snug, little snow-globe has been so rudely shaken.
"all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)""
- Cummings, p. 94
I’m currently isolated in my flat, doing my best to stop the spread of Coronavirus as it rampages through London. Meanwhile, I’m feeling so much love pour into and out of my heart through the connectivity and support that the internet (thank GOD) offers me.
"love is a deeper season
than reason;"
- Cummings, p. 79
"it is most mad and moonly"
- Cummings, p. 62
While I’m missing the smells and sounds and feels of spring blossoming outside, I’m watching it unfurl through my window and also through the swelling buds of an orchid (the slowest of creatures) that I’m babysitting.
"when faces called flowers float out of the ground"
- Cummings, p. 94
cummings reminded me of the endless gratitude I already have for the natural world and that I can keep it in my heart even if I can’t be in it quite yet…
"i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes"
- Cummings, p. 92
I started making a point to read one poem each morning – first thing when I woke up, instead of looking at my phone or checking the news. In that way, ee shaped my intention and focus for every day in a positive, if not dreamy and still somehow grounded way.
"I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance"
- Cummings, p. 50
cummings has a way of touching and illuminating some of the most meaningful whispers in my heart. He has words for the things that ignite the fires behind the choices I make about how to live and love and be and care. I was silly to think that this latest adventure in reading his work would be any different. So, thank you, mr. cummings, for writing your magic and sharing your joy and reminding me of my most always self.
References and links can be found in the original post
ee cummings Selected Poems and slowing down
Reading ee cummings’ poetry cover-to-cover has the overall effect of turning your brain into soup. The words twist and dance and slip into crevices where you don’t expect them to fit. And just when you think you’ve truly lost your mind, you find a nugget of tangible wisdom that opens your heart and makes you realize it was all so very worth it.
"For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea"
- Cummings, p. 97
ee cummings is one of my favorite poets for exactly that reason.
This particular selection of poems intercepted my attention in a Waterstones while I was on the hunt for some Mary Oliver poetry. While I found both authors irresistibly calling out to me from the shelf, Oliver’s works happened to be (inexplicably) stupid expensive. So I left her behind for now.
cummings writes primarily about love, spring, nature, freedom, and war, and the intersections therein. He is a flagrant and deliberate rule-breaker. His work is stormy, sarcastic, crude and wily just as much as it is lyric, sweet and feely. You have to slow way down when you read it so as not to miss something.
I was unsure how his poetry would land with me considering all that’s happening right now. Romance and nature and freedom just seem like far away, intangible things that aren’t able to touch my life right now. So, would any of this really resonate?
But, of course, this turned out to be the perfect manual for remembering how to slow down and take in all the details of this life, especially when it feels like our snug, little snow-globe has been so rudely shaken.
"all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)""
- Cummings, p. 94
I’m currently isolated in my flat, doing my best to stop the spread of Coronavirus as it rampages through London. Meanwhile, I’m feeling so much love pour into and out of my heart through the connectivity and support that the internet (thank GOD) offers me.
"love is a deeper season
than reason;"
- Cummings, p. 79
"it is most mad and moonly"
- Cummings, p. 62
While I’m missing the smells and sounds and feels of spring blossoming outside, I’m watching it unfurl through my window and also through the swelling buds of an orchid (the slowest of creatures) that I’m babysitting.
"when faces called flowers float out of the ground"
- Cummings, p. 94
cummings reminded me of the endless gratitude I already have for the natural world and that I can keep it in my heart even if I can’t be in it quite yet…
"i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes"
- Cummings, p. 92
I started making a point to read one poem each morning – first thing when I woke up, instead of looking at my phone or checking the news. In that way, ee shaped my intention and focus for every day in a positive, if not dreamy and still somehow grounded way.
"I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance"
- Cummings, p. 50
cummings has a way of touching and illuminating some of the most meaningful whispers in my heart. He has words for the things that ignite the fires behind the choices I make about how to live and love and be and care. I was silly to think that this latest adventure in reading his work would be any different. So, thank you, mr. cummings, for writing your magic and sharing your joy and reminding me of my most always self.
References and links can be found in the original post
May 7, 2025
e. e. cummings poezija neatitinka standartinės sintaksės ar kitų normų, tai pradžioje skaitant susidarė mintis: „Kas čia per š...? Nejaugi čia skaitosi aukšto lygio poetas, dėl to, kad kablelius belekaip išmėtęs yra?“ Ir galiu drąsiai teigti, jog stipriai klydau. Gyvenimo ironija, paradoksai, romantiškos sielos ieškojimai, pasimetimas – tobuliausiai tai ir išryškėja tokiame nekonvenciniame rašymo stiliuje. Pvz., tuometinė politinė satyra THANKSGIVING (1956) iki šių dienų aktuali ir puikiai atvaizduoja Amerikos hipokritiškumą Ukrainos situacijoje
a monstering horror swallows
this unworld me by you
as the god of our fathers' father bows
to a which that walks like a who
but the voice-with-a-smile of democracy
announces night & day
"all poor little peoples that want to be free
just trust in the u s a"
suddenly uprose hungary
and she gave a terrible cry
"no slave's unlife shall murder me
for i will freely die"
she cried so high thermopylae
heard her and marathon
and all prehuman history
and finally The UN
"be quiet little hungary
and do as you are bid
a good kind bear is angary
we fear for the quo pro quid"
uncle sam shrugs his pretty
pink shoulders you know how
and he twitches a liberal titty
and lisps "i'm busy right now"
so rah-rah-rah democracy
let's all be as thankful as hell
and bury the statue of liberty
(because it begins to smell)
Ir dar noriu pasidalinti man asmeniškai gražiausia jo poema apie romantiškos sielos ieškojimus:
the great advantage of being alive
(instead of undying)is not so much
that mind no more can disprove than prove
what heart may feel and soul may touch
—the great(my darling)happens to be
that love are in we,that love are in we
and here is a secret they never will share
for whom create is less than have
or one times one than when times where— that we are in love,that we are in love:
with us they've nothing times nothing to do
(for love are in we am in i are in you)
this world (as timorous itsters all
to call their cowardice quite agree)
shall never discover our touch and feel
—for love are in we are in love are in we;
for you are and i am and we are(above
and under all possible worlds)in love
a billion brains may coax undeath
from fancied fact and spaceful time—
no heart can leap,no soul can breathe
but by the sizeless truth of a dream
whose sleep is the sky and the earth and the sea.
For love are in you am in i are in we
a monstering horror swallows
this unworld me by you
as the god of our fathers' father bows
to a which that walks like a who
but the voice-with-a-smile of democracy
announces night & day
"all poor little peoples that want to be free
just trust in the u s a"
suddenly uprose hungary
and she gave a terrible cry
"no slave's unlife shall murder me
for i will freely die"
she cried so high thermopylae
heard her and marathon
and all prehuman history
and finally The UN
"be quiet little hungary
and do as you are bid
a good kind bear is angary
we fear for the quo pro quid"
uncle sam shrugs his pretty
pink shoulders you know how
and he twitches a liberal titty
and lisps "i'm busy right now"
so rah-rah-rah democracy
let's all be as thankful as hell
and bury the statue of liberty
(because it begins to smell)
Ir dar noriu pasidalinti man asmeniškai gražiausia jo poema apie romantiškos sielos ieškojimus:
the great advantage of being alive
(instead of undying)is not so much
that mind no more can disprove than prove
what heart may feel and soul may touch
—the great(my darling)happens to be
that love are in we,that love are in we
and here is a secret they never will share
for whom create is less than have
or one times one than when times where— that we are in love,that we are in love:
with us they've nothing times nothing to do
(for love are in we am in i are in you)
this world (as timorous itsters all
to call their cowardice quite agree)
shall never discover our touch and feel
—for love are in we are in love are in we;
for you are and i am and we are(above
and under all possible worlds)in love
a billion brains may coax undeath
from fancied fact and spaceful time—
no heart can leap,no soul can breathe
but by the sizeless truth of a dream
whose sleep is the sky and the earth and the sea.
For love are in you am in i are in we
January 24, 2025
‘since feeling is first / who pays any attention / to the syntax of things / will never wholly kiss you; - e.e. cummings
I really enjoyed the tangled tango of the selected works of e.e. cummings.
Having only encountered the occasional poem in isolation, this was another instance of what is gained from the sustained conversation with a poet, engaging with variety of their work.
Cummings ( it seems to me) is deliberately playing with language, format, grammar, and convention as a means of slowing us, the readers, down through the course of each poem. The poems and the collection require a slow and engaged reading.
Even the conventions of line break/ enjambment are often playing against the intuitive rhythm, the syntax of sentence / phrase structures are intentionally played with to elicit the pause and the tongue twister - to prompt our rereading.
Beyond these theatrics of punctuation, parenthesis and creative spelling, there is also a quiet deceptive simplicity - full of optimism and hope - to a lot of the poems, revisiting of the motif of spring, the seasons, time and love.
I personally saw a lot of parallels between Cummings, and Shakespeare’s sonnets, and the love poems of Donne – in their subject matter, themes, tone and the rhythm of their language.
I’m so glad i finally got around to picking up this collection.
I really enjoyed the tangled tango of the selected works of e.e. cummings.
Having only encountered the occasional poem in isolation, this was another instance of what is gained from the sustained conversation with a poet, engaging with variety of their work.
Cummings ( it seems to me) is deliberately playing with language, format, grammar, and convention as a means of slowing us, the readers, down through the course of each poem. The poems and the collection require a slow and engaged reading.
Even the conventions of line break/ enjambment are often playing against the intuitive rhythm, the syntax of sentence / phrase structures are intentionally played with to elicit the pause and the tongue twister - to prompt our rereading.
Beyond these theatrics of punctuation, parenthesis and creative spelling, there is also a quiet deceptive simplicity - full of optimism and hope - to a lot of the poems, revisiting of the motif of spring, the seasons, time and love.
I personally saw a lot of parallels between Cummings, and Shakespeare’s sonnets, and the love poems of Donne – in their subject matter, themes, tone and the rhythm of their language.
I’m so glad i finally got around to picking up this collection.
September 25, 2019
originally, i had picked up No Thanks as my first foray into the poetry of cummings. when i decided to find the wikipedia page of that book, just in case, i read it was considered one of his most challenging collections. so, i quickly changed my mind and picked an anthology. i believe i made the right decision. unlike the few poems i got to look in my original selection, the ones in here are challenging (most of the time although not all of the time) ina more syntactical level. wikipedia told me this was the usual. the ones in "no thanks" were simply too baffling for me, as a neophyte of his work, to dip my toes in. the good news is, this collection was quite comfortable and i want to pick up more of his anthologies in the future. the bad news, i don't think "no thanks" will be in the cards any time soon.
April 16, 2020
Reading Cummings' poetry feels like entering a surreal playground.
He's playful, spontaneous, experimental, wrenching and reshaping poetical form to meet his vision.
My first thought while reading him was: are you playing with my mind?
Overall, although i found some of the poems annoying and tiresome, he does have brilliant "paint strokes" that stand out and provoke you to go back and read the whole poem again only to discover that you weren't quite paying attention before you were awaken.
He's playful, spontaneous, experimental, wrenching and reshaping poetical form to meet his vision.
My first thought while reading him was: are you playing with my mind?
Overall, although i found some of the poems annoying and tiresome, he does have brilliant "paint strokes" that stand out and provoke you to go back and read the whole poem again only to discover that you weren't quite paying attention before you were awaken.
March 1, 2021
A beautiful and bizarre collection of poems. I found that often I loved individual lines, but barely understood the rest of the poem.
Favourites:
my sweet old et cetera (26)
in spite of everything (28)
if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have (33)
yes is a pleasant country: (79)
"sweet spring is your (82)
when serpents bargain for the right to squirm (86)
when faces called flowers float out of the ground (94)
in time of daffodils(who know (100)
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in (115)
being to timelessness as it's to time, (117)
Favourites:
my sweet old et cetera (26)
in spite of everything (28)
if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have (33)
yes is a pleasant country: (79)
"sweet spring is your (82)
when serpents bargain for the right to squirm (86)
when faces called flowers float out of the ground (94)
in time of daffodils(who know (100)
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in (115)
being to timelessness as it's to time, (117)
March 25, 2023
when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living -
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heard of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)
***
so world is a leaf so tree is a bough
(and birds sing sweeter
than books
tell how)
so here is away and so your is a my
(with a down
up
around again fly)
forever was never till now
May 4, 2024
I would probably give this collection between 3 and 3.5
There are some poems in this collection that are truly beautiful and incredibly innovative. It has left me with a lot of ideas as to my own poetry.
However, there's also a lot of poems that just don't make sense to me, or ones that felt like a slog to get through.
Also, E.E. Cummings being a fan of McCarthy and writing sexist/racist poetry was NOT expected, but is incredibly disappointing. I can't in good faith say I loved this collection as a result.
There are some poems in this collection that are truly beautiful and incredibly innovative. It has left me with a lot of ideas as to my own poetry.
However, there's also a lot of poems that just don't make sense to me, or ones that felt like a slog to get through.
Also, E.E. Cummings being a fan of McCarthy and writing sexist/racist poetry was NOT expected, but is incredibly disappointing. I can't in good faith say I loved this collection as a result.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 11, 2020
There definitely are some incredible lines and poems in this collection but overall I find Cummings' experimental style too gibberishy and incomprehensible. When his notions strike they strike hard and his message is heartfelt and lofty and simple and broad yet granular and emotional yet impartial. But I guess I wasn't trying to study super carefully a bunch of grammatically insensible syntax to discern meaning, so many of the poems just annoyed me.
January 7, 2025
"For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)/it's always ourselves we find in the sea"
Having previously known Cummings only by reputation as "that writer with a grudge against normal punctuation", it was good to finally delve into his poetry properly. His joltingly rhythmic verse applies itself equally well to meditating on nature and human experience as it does to conveying the bitter sarcasm of his political satires, offering a bracingly unfamiliar experience of language itself.
Having previously known Cummings only by reputation as "that writer with a grudge against normal punctuation", it was good to finally delve into his poetry properly. His joltingly rhythmic verse applies itself equally well to meditating on nature and human experience as it does to conveying the bitter sarcasm of his political satires, offering a bracingly unfamiliar experience of language itself.
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