I love E.E.Cummings' poetry, have done for a long time. Nothing makes me feel the way his words do. I did some illustrations about him in the first year in the greetings card project. Im not sure I did the best I could, but hey I might do more later on.
some of his poems I particularly like recently though:
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves, since Doom
(with white longest hands
neatening each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
- before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping through the morning)kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were.
here's a little mouse)and
what does he think about, i
wonder as over this
floor(quietly with
bright eyes)drifts(nobody
can tell because
Nobody knows, or why
jerks Here &, here,
gr(oo)ving the room's Silence)this like
a littlest
peom a
(with wee ears and see?
tail frisks)
(gonE)
"mouse",
We are not the same you and
i, since here's a little he
or is
it It
? (or was something we saw in the mirror)?
therefore we'll kiss; for maybe
what was Disappeared
into ourselves
who (look). , startled
