Wednesday 15 May 2013

Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond

someplace i decl ar n of all quantify travelled,gladly beyond by e.e.cummings somew present i withdraw n ever so travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their whitewash: in your most imperfect gesture are things which precede me, or which i cannot pip because they are withal near your slightest odor easily will un windup me though i have shut myself as fingers, you open forever prime petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first of all rose or if your neediness be to close me,i and my life will shut very(prenominal) attractively,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everyplace descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this slice equals the power of your intense delicacy:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering clog and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is near you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the persona of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not level the rain,has such small hands I have copied this metrical composition here with all the idiosyncrasies that e.e. cummings is illustrious for (like the liberties he takes with punctuation, for example), but (of course) there is much more thats idiosyncratic here than meets the eye.
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Yet senseless as the words of the poem whitethorn seem when interpreted literally, they amount to a beautifully intense expression of a mans love for a fair sex (in this case, of e.e. cummingss love for his wife). What the reader (who earnings resisting what at first may look like remaining and unfamiliar metaphors) can speedily see is just how terrifically and uniquely love is describe here, so that the reader may actually experience it with the vocalizer of the poem in such as way as if it were the first time ever anyone ever fell in love. Such is the power of poetry. The hoyden is to stop resisting it. The trick is to recognize, implicitly, that the lyric poem of poetry is simply our habitual language renewed and intensified. It is as if...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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