You know, i was writing a perfectly nice blog but then i had a perfectly not nice thing happen to me and now I’m leaning on the vodka a little too heavily and cursing a little too heavily and heart is too heavily down, so here’s another of my favourite cummings poems that kind of fits the mood I’m in, as I didn’t post yesterday and I don’t want that to become a habit. And vodka and frangelico is the bomb people, the bomb.
this mind made war
being generous
this heart could dare )
unhearts can less
unminds must fear
because and why
what filth is here
unlives do cry
on him they shat
they shat encore
he laughed and spat
( this life could dare
freely to give
as gives a friend
not those who slave
unselves to lend
for hope of hope
must coo or boo
may strut or creep
ungenerous who
ape deftly aims
they dare not share )
such make their names
( this poet made war
whose naught and all
sun are and moon
come fair come foul
he goes alone
daring to dare
for joy of joy )
what stink is here
unpoets do cry
unfools unfree
undeaths who live
nor shall they be
and must they have
at him they fart
they fart full oft
( with mind with heart
he spat and laughed
with self with life
this poet arose
nor hate nor grief
can go where goes
this whyless soul
a loneliest road
who dares to stroll
almost this god
this surely dream
perhaps this ghost )
humbly and whom
for worst or best
( and proudly things
only which grow
and the rain’s wings
the birds of snow
things without name
beyond because
things over blame
things under praise
glad things or free
truly which live
always shall be
may never have )
do i salute
( by moon by sun
i deeply greet
this fool and man
- ee cummings
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