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31 December 2013
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06 July 2013
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A bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where you’re still dreaming but it’s slowly slipping? I wish we could feel like that more often. I also wish I could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere I like. I wish that people didn’t always say ‘just wondering’ when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. And I wish I could get lost in the stars.

Listen, there’s a hell of a good universe next door, let’s go.

— e. e. cummings (via wordsthat-speak)
10 June 2013
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literature meme ∙ [1/8] poetry ∙ [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] (e.e cummings)
read in full here

literature meme ∙ [1/8] poetry ∙ [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] (e.e cummings)

read in full here
15 May 2013
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ARTIST: E.E. Cummings
TRACK: somewhere I have never travelled,gladly beyond
ALBUM:
649 plays
06 April 2013
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21 February 2013
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e. e. cummings

e. e. cummings

20 February 2013
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(exists no miracle mightier than this: to feel)

— e.e. cummings  (via likeafieldmouse)
28 January 2013
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— e.e. cummings

— e.e. cummings

11 January 2013
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ee cummings - (once like a spark)

ee cummings - (once like a spark)

14 December 2012
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somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond, e.e. cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond, e.e. cummings

11 November 2012
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“supposing i dreamed this)” by e.e. cummings
from is 5(published 1926 by Liveright)Note: Please note the parentheses in the first and second-to-last line, and then boom.

“supposing i dreamed this)” by e.e. cummings

from is 5
(published 1926 by Liveright)

Note: Please note the parentheses in the first and second-to-last line, and then boom.

04 November 2012
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I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
to dash against the darkness

— e. e. cummings (via forneverrmore)
31 October 2012
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09 October 2012
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e.e. cummings, “if I have made, my lady, intricate”

sharingpoetry:

If I have made, my lady, intricate
imperfect various things chiefly which wrong
your eyes (frailer than most deep dreams are frail)
songs less firm than your body’s whitest song
upon my mind - if I have failed to snare
the glance too shy - if through my singing slips
the very skilful strangeness of your smile
the keen primeval silence of your hair

- let the world say “his most wise music stole
nothing from death” -
                      you will only create
(who are so perfectly alive) my shame:
lady whose profound and fragile lips
the sweet small clumsy feet of April came

into the ragged meadow of my soul.