"Poetry and every other art was and is and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality."
~ e.e. cummings
~ e.e. cummings
All in green went my love riding on a great horse of gold into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling the merry deer ran before. Fleeter be they than dappled dreams the swift sweet deer the red rare deer. Four red roebuck at a white water the cruel bugle sang before. Horn at hip went my love riding riding the echo down into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling the level meadows ran before. Softer be they than slippered sleep the lean lithe deer the fleet flown deer. Four fleet does at a gold valley the famished arrow sang before. Bow at belt went my love riding riding the mountain down into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling the sheer peaks ran before. Paler be they than daunting death the sleek slim deer the tall tense deer. Four tell stags at a green mountain the lucky hunter sang before. All in green went my love riding on a great horse of gold into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling my heart fell dead before.
I love e.e. cummings! I hadn't read this one, though; nice choice.
ReplyDelete-UM
who KNEW he painted?!
ReplyDeleteAloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral
Beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteHe's my favorite poet - and I didn't know he painted either!
ReplyDeleteYet another example of the multi-talented genius. Lovely poem and painting.
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite poets - I didn't know hw painted!
ReplyDeleteHere is one my favorites of his:
maggie and milly and molly and may
went 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;
and 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 in the sea.
Steve, that is one of my favorites of his as well! I love (love love love) the last few lines. Once, in a naive moment, I thought I might get a small tattoo of either the line "as small as a world and as large as alone," or else the last couplet. But I quickly dropped the idea for the sake of my dear mother (Sphinx), who no doubt lies in bed each night and prays to the Pagan gods that neither my sister nor I ever stamp her fine work with inky obscenities...or even with inky poetry by a true genius.
ReplyDelete...In her defense, it is literally the one thing she has been overbearing about in her parenting. ;-)
IN ANY CASE, a beautiful poem, for which I share your fondness, Mr. Emery.
-U