Catherine

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E.E. Cummings
“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”
E. E. Cummings, Selected Poems
tags: love

F. Scott Fitzgerald
“And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Charles Bukowski
“Do you hate people?”

“I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around.”
Charles Bukowski, Barfly

E.E. Cummings
“nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

-excerpt of #35 from "100 Selected Poems”
e.e. cummings

E.E. Cummings
“since the thing perhaps is
to eat flowers and not to be afraid”
E.E. Cummings, E.E. Cummings: Complete Poems 1904-1962

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Catherine
15 books | 2 friends

Catherine
910 books | 3 friends



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