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.
Tom, I kant belive your so intellugent. Yur mind must way a ton for sure. I gess Shakespeare can allso suk yur left nut because half uv what he rote was also in blank verse. In case you’re wondering, no I don’t really think you know shit about poetry or anything else for that matter. The first part of this comment was written in language I knew you’d understand.
i mean come on what the hell is this guy talking about ? if ur gonna make poetry make it good. make it rhyme make it have a good meaning something almost everyone can understand all these poems seriously suck my left nut
in a world where you can step outside and be stripped down to the simplest of being, yourself lost…it is important to love the one who made it all disappear. even if that one is no longer with you.
If you know Cummings history, you know that he had been married three times. His first marriage had to have been the hardest. He didnt just loose his wife, but his daughter. Also he was not expecting this divorse. I believe this poem symbolises that way Cummings felt after his wife left with his daughter. He missed them…both…..Bee
to have lost a loved one and to write about it without being so obvious and casual with the wording so that in too much simplicity, like “my wife died last night”, the moment would be lost, for there must be some obscurity and yet a direct cord to the sentiment, is something this poet has mastered. Cummings, you are so good at this.