e e cummings, 5 of 100 gifts

From e e cummings, five of 100 Selected Poems (a birthday gift from son, Adam.) You do have to keep working with cummings' poetry, mining the alternatives and possibilities, rethinking the pieces and the whole. But if you do, it just keeps on giving and surprising. It is surely worth it! 

#83 

yes is a pleasant country:

if's wintry

(my lovely)

let's open the year 

both is the very weather

(not either)

my treasure,

when violets appear 

love is a deeper season

than reason:

my sweet one

(and april's where we're)

#80 

nothing false and possible is love

(who's imagined,therefore limitless)

love's to giving as to keeping's give;

as yes is to if,love is to yes 

must's a schoolroom in the month of may:

life's the deathboard where all now turns when

(love's a universe beyond obey

or command,reality or un-) 

proudly depths above why's first because

(faith's last doubt and humbly heights below)

kneeling,we--true lovers--pray that us

will ourselves continue to outgrow 

all those mosts if you have known and I've

only we our least begin to guess

#84

all ignorance toboggans into know

and trudges up to ignorance again:

but winter's not forever,even snow

melts;and if spring should spoil the game, what then? 

all history's a winter sport or three:

but were it five,i'd still insist that all

history is too small for even me;

for me and you,exceedingly to small. 

Swoop(shrill collective myth)into thy grave

merely to toil the scale to shrillerness

per every madge and mabel dick and dave

--tomorrow is our permanent address 

and there they'll scarcely find us(if they do,

we'll move away still further: into now

#92 

no time ago

or else a life

walking in the dark

i met christ 

jesus)my heart

flopped over

and lay still

while he passed(as 

close as i'm to you

yes closer

made of nothing

except loneliness

#65 

love is the every only god 

who spoke this earth so glad and big

even a thing all small and sad

man,may his mighty briefness dig 

for love beginning means return

seas who could sing so deep and strong 

one queerying wave will whitely yearn

from each last shore and home come young 

so truly perfectly the skies

by merciful love whispered were,

complete its brightness with your eyes 

any illimitable star