ee_cummings like rain. no one could say anything more. 010515 ... melvinwang what a lowercase name 010515 ... recovering addict read his political satire it always puts me in stitches 010515 ... oh pee um maggie and milly and molly and may wend down to the beach (to play one day) and maggie discovered a shell that sang so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and milly befriended a stranded star whose rays five languid fingers were; molly was chased by a horrible thing which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and may came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world and as large as alone. for whatever we lose(like a you or a me) it's always ourselves we find at the sea 010516 ... silentbob "next to of course god america i love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh say can you see by the dawn's early my country 'tis of centuries come and go and are no more what of it we should worry in every language even deafanddumb thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry by jingo by gee by gosh by gum why talk of beauty what could be more beaut- iful than these heroic happy dead who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter they did not stop to think they died instead then shall the voice of liberty be mute?" He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water 010516 ... MollyCule no one, not even the rain, has such small hands 010606 ... unhinged i love that one...see: mike i read most of 'tulips' from 'tulips & chimneys' tonight this one is from '&''s sonnets-actualities VII i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss, i like kissing this and that of you, i like,slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz of your electric fur,and what-is-it comes over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs, and possibly i like the thrill of under me you so quite new 010606 ... Special K VII was the first love poem I sent to him. I printed it into the pages of a tiny little handmade book, bound in leather, cover ornamented with a small brass sun, illustrated with images of Paolo and Francesca. (I was, you see, caught up in the tempest.) I think that, at the time, it may have been too frank a gift, but it became a self-fulfilled prophesy in the course of our relationship. And damned if I didn't mean every single word of it. 010607 ... Dafremen Girls are silly that way..aren't they? 010607 ... Special K Hee hee, we sure are! *Giggle* ...But that doesn't do anything to diminish how much that guy and I dug each other. Hell, we still dig each other, which is good because we're spared that awkward "I said WHAT?!" misery of the post-relationship denial. 010607 ... Dafremen And WHO would want to diminish that?! 010607 ... Special K My point exactly. 010607 ... enriquecito she's pointy like that, dude. 010614 ... Annie111 i have found what you are like the rain (who feathers frightened fields) with the superior dust-of-sleep, wields easily the pale club of the wind and swirled justly souls of flower strike the aire in utterable coolness deeds of green thrilling light with thinned newfragile yellows lurch and press -inthe woods which stutter and sing And the coolness of your smile is stirring of birds between my arms; but i should rather than anything have (almost when hugeness will shut quietly) almost, your kiss. 011128 ... anti-social butterfly ygUDuh ydoan yunnuhstan ydoan o yunnuhstan dem yguduh ged yunnuhstan dem doidee yguduh ged riduh ydoan o nudn LISN bud LISN dem gud am lidl yelluh bas tuds weer goin duhSIVILEYEzum -e.e. cummings 011128 ... ClairE Annie, I have never read that one. He stopped capitalizing his name because one of his father's workers never did, and he was struck by the humility of the man. Or of the man's self_concept. I heart old e.e. 011128 ... sphinxradio 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) 011208 ... ClairE I quoted you in bed. 020107 ... Mind(e.e) I HEART ee i wish i was ee immortal reincarnated in my heart and words could come from up so many bells down! and fall onto my page like he and i were making love between time space knowing bodies just the words and the touch that's all that matters anyway 020330 ... eklektic some of the smartest most interesing people i know love ee_cummings 020403 ... Kate I wish I would have asked you to read me your favourite poem back then when we were still talking. You always carry your books with you. I think one day I'll write a book and maybe you'll carry it around too. 020421 ... kerry spinxradio, that is my favorite ee cummings poem.... "somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond" 020421 ... Kate I have currently been embarking on an e.e. cummings rampage... there are too many chalkboards at school that have a void which only an e.e. cummings poem can fill. Yesterday after track practice, I walked through the auditorium hallway and found a chalkboard on wheels that one of the choir classes had moved. This hallway is quite crowded during the schoolday. I wrote "Open your heart, I'll give you a treasure of tiniest world, a piece of forever" across the top and signed it "e.e. cummings". Tonight we had our final band concert, and everyone had to walk through that hallway with the chalkboard on the side, and as we were walking to the auditorium to preform, Jon quickly swiped his hand across the board, purposely erasing the "ings" in "cummings". So it read "e.e. cumm". Then when we walked out of the auditorium it read "e.e. cum". Tracee and I both laughed. I wonder if you saw it. I wonder if you'll see my quote written across the top of your 8th period health class, the room where we met for track today. I hope you do. Goodnight and sweet dreams, Steve. 020516 ... unhinged i was reading 'i six nonlectures' today (which i highly recommend to all blatherskites) and i found something that would have got the old man going. 'Fine and dandy: but so far as I am concerned, poetry and every other art was and is and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality. If poetry were anything --- like dropping an atombomb --- which anyone did, anyone could become a poet merely by doing the necessary anything; whatever that anything might or might not entail. But (as it happens) poetry is being, not doing. If you wish to follow, even at a distance, the poet's calling (and here, as always, I speak from my own totally biased and entirely personal point of view) you've got to come out of the measurable doing universe into the immeasurable house of being. I am quite aware that, wherever our socalled civilization has slithered, there's every reward and no punishment for unbeing. But if poetry is your goal, you've got to forget all about punishments and all about rewards and all about selfstyled obligations and duties and responsibilities etcetera ad infinitum and remember one thing only: that it's you ---nobody else--- who determine your destiny and decide your fate. Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else. Toms can be Dicks and Dicks can be Harrys, but none of them can ever be you. There's the artist's responsibility; and the most awful responisibility on earth. If you can take it, take it --- and be. If you can't, cheer up and go about other people's business; and do (or undo) till you drop.' e.e. cummings from 'i & their son; nonlecture two' i think i am going to send it to him next year. 020516 ... ClairE It's like keeping two magnets apart. My body feels all out of sorts. Like I told you, e.e. cummings was wrong. My body isn't something all different-new with yours. It's only then that it becomes what it's supposed to. When it's where it's supposed to be. 011225 020805 ... Kate My new fancy is translating e.e. cummings into Latin. Lily habet rosam nullam rosam habeo et ammitere est minor quam superare sed( amor est magis quam amor of course, I had to do your poem first. anyone lived in a pretty how town with up so many floating bells down... and Cassie's favourite lines, which Cindy didn't understand... 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 020805 ... girl_jane what_if_a_much_of_which_of_a_wind 020806 ... imposter revolutionary-visionary few have ever said it better 030907 ... imposter your little voice by 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 curtsied 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 030907 ... name u are cumming as in cum 060309 ... unhinged . i want to read him and ar_ammons czeslaw_milosz jim_carroll funny that's the writing i was into when i was a teenager 130308 what's it to you? who go blather from