All Poems
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Picasso... (XXIII)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
Picasso
you give us Things
which
bulge:grunting lungs pumped full of sharp thick mind
Poem, Or Beauty Hurts Mr. Vinal
© Edward Estlin Cummings
take it from me kiddo
believe me
my country, 'tis of
what if a much of a which of a wind... (XX)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
what if a much of a which of a wind
gives the truth to summer's lie;
bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun
and yanks immortal stars awry?
ecco a letter starting"dearest we"
© Edward Estlin Cummings
ecco a letter starting"dearest we"
unsigned:remarkably brief but covering
one complete miracle of nearest far
yes is a pleasant country... (XXXVIII)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
yes is a pleasant country:
if's wintry
(my lovely)
let's open the year
if i have made,my lady,intricate
© Edward Estlin Cummings
-let the world say "his most wise music stole
nothing from death"-
you only will create
(who are so perfectly alive)my shame:
lady through whose profound and fragile lips
the sweet small clumsy feet of April came
a clown's smirk in the skull of a baboon
© Edward Estlin Cummings
Hell(by most humble me which shall increase)
open thy fire!for i have had some bliss
of one small lady upon earth above;
to whom i cry,remembering her face,
i have never loved you dear as now i love
Thy fingers make early flowers of... (IV)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
Thy fingers make early flowers of
all things.
thy hair mostly the hours love:
a smoothness which
here is little Effie's head
© Edward Estlin Cummings
here is little Effie's head
whose brains are made of gingerbread
when judgment day comes
God will find six crumbs
Now i lay(with everywhere around)... (44)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
Now i lay(with everywhere around)
me(the great dim deep sound
of rain;and of always and of nowhere)and
what a gently welcoming darkestness--
Epithalamion
© Edward Estlin Cummings
I.Thou aged unreluctant earth who dost
with quivering continual thighs invite
the thrilling rain the slender paramour
to toy with thy extraordinary lust,
dead every enourmous piece
© Edward Estlin Cummings
dead every enourmous piece
of nonsense which itself must call
a state submicroscopic is-
compared with pitying terrible
some alive individual
there is a here and... (19)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
so aged the ocean
wanders the streets are so
ancient the houses enter the
suppose... (VIII)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a pierce of money held between
his thumb and first finger
If you can't eat you got to
© Edward Estlin Cummings
If you can't eat you got tosmoke and we aint got
nothing to smoke:come on kidlet's go to sleep
if you can't smoke you got toSing and we aint gotnothing to sing;come on kid
let's go to sleepif you can't sing you got to
Skating (4)
© Edward Estlin Cummings
Spring is past, and Summer's past,
Autumn's come, and going;
Weather seems as though at last
We might get some snowing.
but mr can you maybe listen there's
© Edward Estlin Cummings
but mr can you maybe listen there's
me &
some people
and others please
don'tconfuse.Some
people
here's to opening and upward
© Edward Estlin Cummings
here's to opening and upward, to leaf and to sap
and to your(in my arms flowering so new)
self whose eyes smell of the sound of rain
Jehovah buried,Satan dead,
© Edward Estlin Cummings
King Christ,this world is all aleak;
and lifepreservers there are none:
and waves which only He may walk
Who dares to call Himself a man.
