sunlit dust motes within
windswept snowflakes without
a yard of moss invaded lawn
layered over with snow
reminds me of a time once spent
in despair, intuiting life's transcience.
sunlit dust motes within
windswept snowflakes without
a yard of moss invaded lawn
layered over with snow
reminds me of a time once spent
in despair, intuiting life's transcience.
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly.
--Shakespeare
I understand. I like.
Sometimes, watching the dust particles move is how I know I'm breathing.
I'm in love with The Vinegar Man and Mr. Tanner, but be careful, it could just as easily be you.
"If you're going to write you better have somewhere to come from." Flannery O'Connor
the poem itself,
–(good)(clever)(yes)—
imitation cummings?
[eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!]
if you (tres)&(pas)
upon another's grave,
style what becomes style…
Good Luck!
Pen
If you didn't understand that, you may wish to re-read e.e. cummings and see if you really understand him.
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Some of us laugh
Some of us cry
Some of us smoke
Some of us lie
But it's all just the way
that we cope with our lives...
this is a lovely poem whether or not it is in the style of E E Cummings. Lovely lines with a quiet confidence to them. Well done.
i admit that i titled the thread with haste. sorry if i stepped on some toes.
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly.
--Shakespeare
Some of us laugh
Some of us cry
Some of us smoke
Some of us lie
But it's all just the way
that we cope with our lives...