BYS FLUTTERFULLY IF
(endbegi ndesignb ecend)tang
BIRDS BECAUSE AGAINS
o(into whe)re f
GLIB SCARCELYEST AMONGS FLOWERING
I’m sorry but I really didn’t understand what this poem was supposed to mean?
really dont understand why its all a bunch of letters but whatever your the poet noot i
i dont understand it
(SNOW) cru (is wing Hi) sperf ul lydesc BYS FLUTTERFULLY (IF end begin design) becend tang lesp ang les (of Come go CRINGE WITHS) lilting lyful of! s r (BIRDS BECAUSE AGAINS remarkable) sh? y&a (from no into where find) nd (Are) GLIB (SCARCELY-EST AMONGS FLOWERING)
It funny how some people think ee cummings in alive. He died a long time ago!
Modern literature very much places the onus of interpretation on the reader; sometimes poems can be encypted, there to be solved like teasing crossword puzzles. More often however, the process of decoding a poem is simply an effort to assume the viewpoint of the poet. “SNOW” is a confusing poem to read because it doesn’t ‘read’; when held up against the orthodox poetic tradition, ee cummings’ “SNOW” simply looks childish. Like “L(a” and “in Just-“, the form of the poem reminds one of the illiterate scribbling of newly-learned letters written randomly in crayon on the page of a kintergarten scrap book. However, on closer inspection, there is balance within its disarrayed format. Whole words are hidden within the jumble; they shine like beacons on a dark runway: they are not to be treated as keys to a secret door, but nevertheless something tangible to cling on to amid initial confusion: cruising, whisper, fully, FLUTTER, FULLY, IF, end, begin, design, tangle, spangle, Come, go, CRINGE, WITH, lilt, of, BIRDS, BECAUSE, AGAIN, mark, able, from, no, into, where, find, are, GLIB, SCARCELY, AMONG, FLOWERING are the words that can be picked out whole from the poem. If we are to work off concepts and imagery (to deduce an ‘argument’ put forward by the poem at this stage would be premature), already antitheses present themselves. The apposition of “end” and “begin” (in that order, a reversed chronology), the contradiction of come and go, fully (twice) and scarcely, the incongruity of birds, flowering, fluttering and lilting in a poem entitled “snow”.
These contradictions create another level of confusion; the poet is not lost, but acutely aware that these opposing forces exist, that they ArE. The broken images of the poem suggest a bewildered author who is unable to decide which end of the spectrum to “mark” himself, if indeed one’s self is actually “markable” on a graph: his poem is itself fluttering between two antipodes. The form of the poem is reminiscent with falling snowflakes in Winter; each one is different in the same way that the layout of the words within the lines appears unique. The tone of the poem is more summary and “flowering.” I am content to draw a conclusion of lack of identity from the conflicts within the poem, but to picture a scene flowering winter wonderland is odd. I will admit that e.e.cummings might be pointing towards the fertility of his imagination in Winter, but I like the idea that the poem is not just about SNOW, but about NOW. If ‘read’ with the poet’s (or anyone’s) transience in mind, sense can be gained from the poem as opposed to Boggle-esque word-spotting. We start off with the relaxed image of “cruising”. The pace is slow, and the word is spread over three lines. The mood descends to a rapid awareness of cyclical liminality. As soon as something finishes, something else is designed and begun straight away (hence the enjambed “end begi n”). The poet is repressed – the hidden “w Hi/aper” of the first “stanza” is reaffirmed by the “s)h” of the last- from start to finish, yet he still manages to get to the end, still manages to put his thoughts down on paper, even if he hasn’t the courage to spell it out for everyone to read. Yet it can be heard; by reading the poem aloud, the apposition between gargle and fully formed words is audible. The Poet leaves us with an un-fully formed array of sentiments so dense that it flowers individually within the consciousness of its reader.
that was amazing…it was like i understood but i didnt know…instead of reading it i felt it, who says words have to be in order to make sense?!?!?! i think it was an inspiration…dont let bad comments bring you down if you confident to write something like that then surely you can ahndle critezism not that them lyrics would deserve that!
What are u tryin’ to say?I like the other 1’s,but I don’t understand this 1.Its like if u did it fast and put whatever.KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!(Hey! I’m not telling u 2 stop writing poems).
i like cummings poems. they are always fascinating. i’ve got a feeling that it is snowing though i cannot make any sense from the words in this poem “snow”. that’s ok, right? does anybody could tell me how to put the words in a reasonable order? i believe there exists one.
Daes any one know what that was about? it’is just a whole buch of letters.
Cummings seems to always unententionally bind the reader into trying to figure out his poety. But I believe it is not meant to be figured or read in a way that YOU are “making up.” Since the poem is titled “Snow,” then I believe Cummings is trying to get across the appearance of snow and maybe a few words here and there.
Look at it as snow on the page. I imagine the “words” in capitals are anagrams, but I’m not quite sure.
Most of what Cummings did wasn’t meant to be read conventionally, so don’t worry about that too much.
this poem is oneof the stranger poems ive herd but after i tought about it it kind of makes sense. if you don’t get it just think about it alot.
I think this poem is very wierd. I mean, it just babbles out a few words that sort of make sense, and has over 3 titles. I just dont get it. Maybe one of you guys could help me out here? Also I love America, even though I love Canada more ;D
I think that this poem is very strange eh. When i first saw it, I wasnt sure it was even poetry! But after reading it over again, i saw some words that made sense. Now I like this guy’s work! Yup, this poem is awesome!
Reading a poem like this reminds me of reading music. The words are all there, just chopped up to make a rhythm. The lines written ALL IN CAPITALS are a different voice to the rest of the poem, which is interrupted by the other lines; it would probably take 2 or 3 people to read this aloud.
Yes I would like to comment on the last persons comment. I am first confused by the question of whether this poem is gay or not… should this not be an !!! ? Just curious as I am not from america…. And also I think that you should not judge others poems because they are obviously good enough to be published so HA! That is all, thank you america.
I think the author is trying to give emotion to the everlasting beauty of American society. He uses different methaphors which vigorously help the CHICKEN!
that’s the beauty of cummings! he wants you to stare at it and stare at it. i see almost all of his work as a wonderful puzzle. “cruising whisper” look at his words like little visuals… like an artsy film that almost makes you want to cry and laugh at the same time.
I can’t figure out this poem. Does anyone have some guidance?