Thursday, April 09, 2009

April 9 - National Poetry Month - ee cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what is is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

ee cummings 1931

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Anonymous Michelle said...

Absolutely beautiful and sad too. I've always admired poets-someone who can convey such emotion with words, I think you have to be born with it! Anytime I tried to write one, it would be chock full of rhymes, lol. Just couldn't do it!

11:49 PM  
Blogger Mata H said...

Well we are blessed with so many fine writers -- and do not worry about rhymes -- some of the finest work in the world rhymes.

8:06 PM  

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