About E. E. Cummings
Edward Estlin Cummings was
born on October 14, 1894 in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He attended Harvard
University, where he received both a bachelor's degree in 1915 and a master's
degree in 1916. At Harvard, he was introduced to great poets who greatly
influenced his writing. His poems were first published in Eight Harvard Poets,
an anthology, in 1917.
During the 1950's, E.E
Cummings started touring colleges and universities to read his poetry and
lecture; his addresses at Harvard University evolved into an autobiographical
book.
In later years of Cummings,
he was generously awarded two Guggenheim Fellowships and the Bolligen Prize in
Poetry. A complete collection of his poetry, Poems, 1923-1954, was published in
1954, and his last volume of poetry, titled 95 Poems, appeared in 1959.
Cummings died on September 3, 1962 in New Hampshire after suffering a stroke.
Below is a collection of
some of his poems. Love is a beautiful feeling worth experiencing, do enjoy the
poems
Love
is A place – E.E Cummings
Love is a place
And through this place of Love
Move
(With brightness of peace)
All places
Yes is a world
And in this world of Yes
Live
(Skillfully curled)
All words
Your
Little Voice – E.E Cummings
Your little voice
Over the wires came leaping
And I felt suddenly
Dizzy
With the jostling and shouting of
Merry flowers
Wee skipping high-heeled flames
Courtesied before my eyes
Or twinkling over to my side
Looked up
With impertinently exquisite faces
Floating hands were laid upon me
I was whirled and tossed into
Delicious dancing
Up
Up
With the pale important
Stars and the humorous
Moon
Dear girl
How I was crazy
How I cried when I heard
Over time
And tide and death
Leaping
Sweetly
Your voice
Love
is more thicker than forget – E.E Cummings
Love is more thicker than forget
More thinner than recall
More seldom than a wave is wet
More frequent than to fail
It’s most mad and moonly
And less it shall unbe
Than all the sea which only
Is deeper than sea
Love is more always than to win
Less never than alive
Less bigger than the least begin
Less litter than forgive
It’s most sane and sunly
And more it cannot die
Than all the sky which only
Is higher than the sky
My
love – E.E cummings
My love
Thy hair is one kingdom
The king whereof is darkness
Thy forehead is a flight of flowers
Thy head is a quick forest
Filled with sleeping birds
Thy breasts are swarms of white bees
Upon the bough of thy body
Thy body to me is April
In those armpits is the approach of spring
Thy thighs are white horses yoked to a chariot
Of kings
They are striking of a good minstrel
Between them is always a pleasant song
My love
Thy head is a casket
Of the cool jewel of thy mind
The hair of thy head is one warrior
Innocent of defeat
Thy hair upon thy shoulders is an army
With victory and with trumpets
Thy legs are the trees of dreaming
Whose fruit is the very eatage of forgetfulness
Thy lips are satraps in scarlet
In whose kiss is the combinings of kings
Thy wrist
Are holy
Which are the keepers of the keys of thy blood
Thy feet upon thy ankles are flowers in vases
Of silver
In thy beauty is the dilemma of flutes
Thy eyes are the betrayal
Of bells comprehended through incense.
Somewhere
I have never travelled, gladly beyond - E. E. Cummings
Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond
Any experience, your eyes have their silence:
In your most frail gesture are things which enclose
me,
Or which I cannot touch because they are too near
Your slightest look easily will unclose me
Though i have closed myself as fingers,
You open always petal by petal myself as spring
opens
(Touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
Or if your wish be to close me, i and
My life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
As when the heart of this flower imagines
The snow carefully everywhere descending;
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
One of the greatest poets to have experienced and
written sweet notes about love. Feel free to share your ideas and thoughts in
the comment box below. Visit lovehealings.blogspot.com for more love poems and
quotes.
Related post:
Amazing Love Poems For You
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