E.E. Cummings Poetry

hate blows a bubble of despair

hate blows a bubble of despair into
hugeness world system universe and bang
-fear buries a tomorrow under woe
and up comes yesterday most green and young

pleasure and pain are merely surfaces
(one itself showing,itself hiding one)
life's only and true value neither is
love makes the little thickness of the coin

excerpt of this poem by e.e.cummings

I've recently found this poem. I think it's really interesting and funny but I don't understand some words. They seem to be written as they are pronounced.

from ygUDuh

ydoan
yunnuhstan

ydoan o
yunnuhstand dem
yguduh ged

yunnuhstan dem doidee
yguduh ged riduh
ydoan o nudn

LISN bud LISN

....

e.e.cummings

Thanks for the addition to thread, Mrs. Dalloway. You think the poem by e.e. that you posted is perhaps a disturbing memory or immitation of inebriated speech patern? He does a similar thing in the "cumrades" poem.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by quasimodo1

Thanks for the addition to thread, Mrs. Dalloway. You think the poem by e.e. that you posted is perhaps a disturbing memory or immitation of inebriated speech patern? He does a similar thing in the "cumrades" poem.

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Maybe it's an imitation. What do you think?

I think it may be an imitation to satirize some specific war (maybe Vietnam's war? because it says "yellow bastards"). I'm not really sure of the poem's meaning.

Most if not all of e.e.cummings is pre-Vietnam. The more you vocalize the piece, the more it seems to me a specific memory of boozespeak. There's a prejudice here. Not one of his happier works. Does it say yellow... in the part you didn't post? quasimodo1

Quote:

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Originally Posted by quasimodo1

Most if not all of e.e.cummings is pre-Vietnam. The more you vocalize the piece, the more it seems to me a specific memory of boozespeak. There's a prejudice here. Not one of his happier works. Does it say yellow... in the part you didn't post? quasimodo1

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If it's pre-Vietnam, why do you think he says "yellow bastards" and "we're going to civilize them"? What is the meaning?

Yes, at the end of the poem it says yellow. But I've posted it... now it appears "..." instead of the end of the poem...

To Mrs. Dallaway: Let me do a little checking; got to be in the critical lit. quasimodo1

Quote:

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Originally Posted by quasimodo1

To Mrs. Dallaway: Let me do a little checking; got to be in the critical lit. quasimodo1

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Thanks Quasiomodo ;)

http://homepages.wmich.edu/~cooneys/....comments.html To Mrs. Dallaway: Older asian connection. These comments are quite interesting. quasimodo1

Quote:

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Originally Posted by quasimodo1

http://homepages.wmich.edu/~cooneys/....comments.html To Mrs. Dallaway: Older asian connection. These comments are quite interesting. quasimodo1

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So it's because the WWII bomb to Japan... Thanks!

Just one more thing to say about this poem. Cummings seems to be critical with the people who speak in the poem. By the way Cummings wrote it, it seems he is making fun of them (if you compare it with the fact that those people feel that they are better that Japanese people and that they are mocking as well).

well, I thought that when I read the poem.

To Mrs. Dalloway: Yes that's exactly my view now that you pointed to the asian reference. He runs the spectrum from intense personal poems, satire and humour. Thanks for adding to the thread. Now to find something by Dylan Thomas that's hopefully fresh. quasimodo1

Could you post the whole poem? I don't understand a single word! Please interpret for me!

This topic, especially the part about COPYRIGHT explains why poems posted by people have been edited:

http://www.online-literature.com/for...ad.php?t=17515

Ok, Logos thanks and sorry!

Tinustijger, Quasimodo posted a link where you can read the whole poem, the way it is written and also some opinions. I said it may be related to the Second World War. It's a conversation between soldiers, maybe two, speaking about Japanese people. The intention of Cumming was satirise the superiority american soldiers feel towards Japanese people. That's why he wrote the poem with the way the soldiers speak. They are making fun of Japanese and Cummings at the same time is making fun of the soldiers. I think it makes them stupid though they think the stupid and inferior people are the Japanese ones.

I asked if the poem was about Vietnam but Quasimodo said that the poems of Cummings were written before Vietnam's War. So, that's why I think it can be about Japanese.

I hope it helps. Read the whole poem in the website and tell us your opinion please :)

by e.e.cummings
up into the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it

you will(kiss me)go

out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it

(kiss me)you will go

on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it
...........................................excerpt

If you look at the poem "yguduh", you can see that the lines written draw a soldier.

[somewhere i have never travelled]


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 skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose




..............first part of this poem by e.e.cummings

she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my



{excerpt from this poem} .........by e.e.cummings

...that poem is everything i like abt eec...thanks qm1

............JEHOVAH BURIED, SATAN DEAD................
Jehovah buried,Satan dead,
do fearers worship Much and Quick;
badness not being felt as bad,
itself thinks goodness what is meek;
obey says toc,submit says tic,
Eternity's a Five Year Plan:
if Joy with Pain shall hand in hock
who dares to call himself a man?

go dreamless knaves on Shadows fed,
your Harry's Tom,your Tom is Dick;
while Gadgets murder squack and add,
the cult of Same is all the chic;
by instruments,both span and spic,
are justly measured Spic and Span:
to kiss the mike if Jew turn kike
who dares to call himself a man?

{excerpt from this poem by e.e.cumminngs}

WHEN SERPENTS BARGAIN


when serpents bargain for the right to squirm
and the sun strikes to gain a living wage -
when thorns regard their roses with alarm
and rainbows are insured against old age

when every thrush may sing no new moon in
if all screech-owls have not okayed his voice
- and any wave signs on the dotted line
or else an ocean is compelled to close


{two stanzas of this poem by e.e.cummings}

this(let's remember)day died again and
.................................................. .

this(let's remember)day died again and
again;whose golden,crimson dooms conceive

an oceaning abyss of orange dream

larger than sky times earth:a flame beyond
soul immemorially forevering am-
and as collapsing that grey mind by wave
doom disappeared,out of perhaps(who knows?)

eternity floated a blossoming


{part of this poem by e.e. cummings}

deciphering meaning in much of the poetry of e e cummings is all the more difficult without researching the man and trying to understand some of the connections that he was making. well schooled in traditional literary and poetic forms--he not only "graduated magna cum laude in Literature, especially in Greek and English" from harvard, he taught there. cummings was also a painter. his artwork, paintings, sketches and the like, far outweighing his poetry in sheer volume. as much fun as it is to read what people try to do with his poem "l(a)," setting a copy of the poem next to a copy of marcel duchamp's "nude descending a staircase" should provide an entirely different perspective on the man and his work. a book, e e cummings revisited, written by richard s kennedy is beyond insightful. along with several other authors, particularly poets, we do no small disservice to their work by not investigating as fully as possible just what they thought of their world and their art.

What a coincidence,

I have these questions about the poem I can't really answer...
could anyone help me??

1. Explain 'mud-luscious' (lines 2-3).
2. Explain 'puddle-wonderful' (line 10).
3. What meanings does 'wee' (lines 5 and 24) have?
4. Explain the shift from 'lame' (line 4) to 'goat-footed' (line 20).
5. What does the balloon-man represent for the children?
6. Explain the title.

Here is PART of the poem in just-

E.E. Cummings

(1894-1963)

in Just-


in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it’s
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and


....


I know maybe its sounds really lame, but english is not my first language and I'm studying literature now, I really do hope I could make it because I am going to try really hard.... :D

thx!

To SweetKaren: This is one of my favorites by e.e. You will find most of your answers in this collection of critical essays. Hope this was helpfull, but remember it's just a resource. http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poe...ngs/injust.htm ..............quasimodo1

Thx for the link. It is helpful, but it doesn't answer all my questions (or is it?) I just read them once and I guess I should re read them to be able to digest all the information. Why cant people write in normal english lol. I would be really happy if someone could help me explaining it in a way I could understand it.

What I know so far
What does the balloon-man represent for the children? He's rendition of Pan, the god of the goatherds and shepherds.

And I can't even explaining the title of the poem?
I wonder If i will ever make it for next week exam:bawling:

Ok, about "in Just" by e.e.cummings...All his poems are titled by the first line, so it need not be interpreted or analyzed. Your mention of Pan (or the Faun) is probably something e.e. intended but the piece is an expression of delight in a moment, in a season...the old "slice of life" type poetry but with cummings' super-creative use of common words and expressions in brand new ways. It also celebrates childhood with it simple and pure feelings about experience. It is not the most complex thing he wrote by a long shot and you don't need to go at it like it is T.S. Eliot. Relax a little, it's not heavy poetry or philosophy. quasi

Hmm... I kind of understand it now. However I have 2 more questions if you dont mind.

Does 'wee' has meaning at all??
And if someone ask you about e.e cummings writing style, what would you answer??

Thanks a bunch!

onomatopoeia, if you have a dictionary, look up this word and it tells you about the "wee" expression (also meaning small and far away). If asked about e.e.cummings writing style, he created a whole new style for poetry which has changed contemporary poetry forever, it is exploratory, unique and kind of a new standard for poetic license. Anything else? quasi

He also doesn't really pay attention to the rules of conventional poems, like stanza and rhymes??

Thx anyway for now, im off to bed. Gonne back to study tomorrow

Taimi Olsen
LANGUAGE AND SILENCE IN THE ENORMOUS ROOM (1922)
[Spring 1 (1992): 77-86]


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although The Enormous Room [1] is typically grouped with in Dos Passos' Three Soldiers and Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms as fiction of World War I, E. E. Cummings created more than a "war" novel. The Enormous Room leads the modernist movement in rejecting genre traditions and adopting an innovative prose style. Cummings questions the assumptions of literary meaning by examining the effectiveness of various modes of communication, and he challenges traditional discourse through his unconventional and often disjointed poetic. For Cummings, the subject matter of The Enormous Room, the silent and "indescribable" essence of things, demands new methods of expression. Cummings reworks literary forms, linguistic signs and standard thematic structures, in order to express this silence.
As protagonist, narrator, and author, Cummings reconstructs reality through his assertion of linguistic freedom. Essentially, The Enormous Room concerns what Ferdinand de Saussure terms associative relationships in language. Normally, as Jameson explains, syntagmatic, or horizontal, meaning governs the sentence through "a succession of meaning-units or words in time." [2] Associative meaning, however, comes from outside the immediate context of the sentence. Cummings breaks out of sequential sentence structure through the use of typography, rhyme, and the associative meanings of words in order to change the nature of the sentence.
..........

http://www.gvsu.edu/english/cummings/Olsen1.html

This work of e.e.cummings is a result of his imprisonment in France during the Great War. There is much more to this story but one of the poems known by e.e.cummings and others in this prison/asylum is this one: THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET

by
Samuel Woodworth



--------------------------------------------------------------------------


How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,

When fond recollections present them to view !

The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild wood,

And every loved spot which my infancy knew;

The wide-spreading pond, and the mill which stood by it,

The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell;

The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it,

And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well;

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-cover'd bucket, which hung in the well.


That moss-cover'd vessel I hail as a treasure;

For often, at noon, when return'd from the field,

I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,

The purest and sweetest that Nature can yield.

How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing !

And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell;

Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,

And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well;

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-cover'd bucket arose from the well.


How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,

As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips !

Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,

Though fill'd with the nectar that Jupiter sips.

And now, far removed from the loved situation,

The tear of regret will intrusively swell,

As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,

And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well;

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-cover'd bucket, which hangs in the well.

e.e cummings is a master of enjambment, and he uses it freely (too freely i suppose)=D

i don't think he's my favourite:D sorry....

then again, I don't have any favourite poets
I like Those Winter Sunday from Robert Hayden though

104 Irving Street, Cambridge, December 8, 1917.

President Woodrow Wilson, White House, Washington, D. C.

Mr. President:

It seems criminal to ask for a single moment of your time. But I am strongly advised that it would be more criminal to delay any longer calling to your attention a crime against American citizenship in which the French Government has persisted for many weeks—in spite of constant appeals made to the American Minister at Paris; and in spite of subsequent action taken by the State Department at Washington, on the initiative of my friend, Hon. ——.

The victims are two American ambulance drivers, Edward Estlin Cummings of Cambridge, Mass., and W—— S—— B——....

More than two months ago these young men were arrested, subjected to many indignities, dragged across France like criminals, and closely confined in a Concentration Camp at La Ferte Mace; where, according to latest advices they still remain—awaiting the final action of the Minister of the Interior upon the findings of a Commission which passed upon their cases as long ago as October 17.

Against Cummings both private and official advices from Paris state that there is no charge whatever. He has been subjected to this outrageous treatment solely because of his intimate friendship with young B——, whose sole crime is—so far as can be learned—that certain letters to friends in America were misinterpreted by an over-zealous French censor.

It only adds to the indignity and irony of the situation to say that young Cummings is an enthusiastic lover of France and so loyal to the friends he has made among the French soldiers, that even while suffering in health from his unjust confinement, he excuses the ingratitude of the country he has risked his life to serve by calling attention to the atmosphere of intense suspicion and distrust that has naturally resulted from the painful experience which France has had with foreign emissaries.

Be assured, Mr. President, that I have waited long—it seems like ages—and have exhausted all other available help before venturing to trouble you.

1. After many weeks of vain effort to secure effective action by the American Ambassador at Paris, Richard Norton of the Norton-Harjes Ambulance Corps to which the boys belonged, was completely discouraged, and advised me to seek help here.

2. The efforts of the State Department at Washington resulted as follows:

i. A cable from Paris saying that there was no charge against Cummings and intimating that he would speedily be released.

ii. A little later a second cable advising that Edward Estlin Cummings had sailed on the Antilles and was reported lost.

iii. A week later a third cable correcting this cruel error and saying the Embassy was renewing efforts to locate Cummings—apparently still ignorant even of the place of his confinement.

After such painful and baffling experiences, I turn to you—burdened though I know you to be, in this world crisis, with the weightiest task ever laid upon any man.

But I have another reason for asking this favor. I do not speak for my son alone; or for him and his friend alone. My son has a mother—as brave and patriotic as any mother who ever dedicated an only son to a great cause. The mothers of our boys in France have rights as well as the boys themselves. My boy's mother had a right to be protected from the weeks of horrible anxiety and suspense caused by the inexplicable arrest and imprisonment of her son. My boy's mother had a right to be spared the supreme agony caused by a blundering cable from Paris saying that he had been drowned by a submarine. (An error which Mr. Norton subsequently cabled that he had discovered six weeks before.) My boy's mother and all American mothers have a right to be protected against all needless anxiety and sorrow.

Pardon me, Mr. President, but if I were President and your son were suffering such prolonged injustice at the hands of France; and your son's mother had been needlessly kept in Hell as many weeks as my boy's mother has—I would do something to make American citizenship as sacred in the eyes of Frenchmen as Roman citizenship was in the eyes of the ancient world. Then it was enough to ask the question, "Is it lawful to scourge a man that is a Roman, and uncondemned?" Now, in France, it seems lawful to treat like a condemned criminal a man that is an American, uncondemned and admittedly innocent!

Very respectfully, EDWARD CUMMINGS

copy and pasted from http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext05/8enrm10.txt

{this letter concerns the author and his friends trying to gain exit from the French asylum/prison- the imprisonment being the source of "The Enormous Room". This letter written by e.e.cummings' father}

"You are Irish?"--"No," I said, "American."--"You are Irish by
family?"--"No, Scotch."--"You are sure that there was never an Irishman
in your parents?"--"So far as I know," I said, "there never was an
Irishman there."--"Perhaps a hundred years back?" he insisted.--"Not a
chance," I said decisively. But Monsieur was not to be denied: "Your name
it is Irish?"--"Cummings is a very old Scotch name," I told him fluently,
"it used to be Comyn. A Scotchman named The Red Comyn was killed by
Robert Bruce in a church. He was my ancestor and a very well-known
man."--"But your second name, where have you got that?"--"From an
Englishman, a friend of my father." This statement seemed to produce a
very favorable impression in the case of the rosette, who murmured: "_Un
ami de son pere, un Anglais, bon!_" several times. Monsieur, quite
evidently disappointed, told the moustache in French to write down that I
denied my Irish parentage; which the moustache did.

"What does your father in America?"--"He is a minister of the gospel," I
answered. "Which church?"--"Unitarian." This puzzled him. After a moment
he had an inspiration: "That is the same as a Free Thinker?"--I explained
in French that it wasn't and that _mon pere_ was a holy man. At last
Monsieur told the moustache to write: Protestant; and the moustache
obediently did so.

From this point on our conversation was carried on in French, somewhat to
the chagrin of Monsieur, but to the joy of the rosette and with the
approval of the moustache. In answer to questions, I informed them that I
was a student for five years at Harvard (expressing great surprise that
they had never heard of Harvard), that I had come to New York and studied
painting, that I had enlisted in New York as _conducteur voluntaire_,
embarking for France shortly after, about the middle of April.
{This excerpt from "The Enormous Room" by e.e.cummings is part of his initial interrogation prior to six+ months incarceration}

Hi Quasimodo, glad to see you kept this thread active. There is some really good stuff here. You have filled up 14 pages of cummings - good for you!
These letters are particularly interesting. Not too long ago I picked up Cumming's book called "The Enormous Room", which I believe deals with this time in Cumming's life. I was lucky to find the book free at my library when they were clearing out a certain area to make room for newer books. I have not read it yet. Wondering if anyone has?

One of these days (when I can find the time) I am going to copy all the poetry entered into this thread and burn to a CD or keep it on my hard-drive.

Q - keep up the good work! J

Oops, just read a few pages back and see you did mention the book. My mistake.

EN ROUTE

I put the bed-roll down. I stood up.

I was myself.

An uncontrollable joy gutted me after three months of humiliation, of
being bossed and herded and bullied and insulted. I was myself and my own
master.

In this delirium of relief (hardly noticing what I did) I inspected the
pile of straw, decided against it, set up my bed, disposed the roll on
it, and began to examine my cell.

I have mentioned the length and breadth. The cell was ridiculously high;
perhaps ten feet. The end with the door in it was peculiar. The door was
not placed in the middle of this end, but at one side, allowing for a
huge iron can waist-high which stood in the other corner. Over the door
and across the end, a grating extended. A slit of sky was always visible.

Whistling joyously to myself, I took three steps which brought me to the
door-end. The door was massively made, all of iron or steel I should
think. It delighted me. The can excited my curiosity. I looked over the
edge of it. At the bottom reposefully lay a new human turd.

I have a sneaking mania for wood-cuts, particularly when used to
illustrate the indispensable psychological crisis of some outworn
romance. There is in my possession at this minute a masterful depiction
of a tall, bearded, horrified man who, clad in an anonymous rig of goat
skins, with a fantastic umbrella clasped weakly in one huge paw, bends to
examine an indication of humanity in the somewhat cubist wilderness
whereof he had fancied himself the owner....
{excerpt from Part II of "The Enormous Room" by e.e.cummings}