Notes on cummings

I have fallen in love with the poetry of e.e. cumings.

Anyone who knows me well would understand why the seemingly illiterate poet, first made me cringe. His work was hard to swallow, but still the words were surprisingly sweet. I read these poems over and over again. Eventually I stumbled upon a plethora of appreciation for what I would call the "indefinite errors" of cummings. Now when I read, I read not only the words, but the spaces; the irregular punctuation and impractical use of parenthesis. I no longer see these errors as errors, but as essentials to cummings abstract style.
His use of grammar and phonetics, (and/or lack thereof) is closer to literary genius than to illiteracy. Words and punctuation have been a meaningful way to express myself. Cummings and I have this in common, we write as we would speak. I have accepted the laws of the English language and have dedicated myself to upholding it in its purest form, it's just kind of a pet peeve of mine...
Cummings however, has managed to manipulate language more effectively than anyone else ever has. He forces language to cater to him, and his own form of expression. I would consider myself somewhat of an artist- and poetry, writing- they are arts.
I have now overcome my fear of illiteracy by remembering that art transcends all boundaries, all laws, all guidelines. "Since feeling is first, who pays any attention to the syntax of things?"

Anyway...I picked a few of my favorite ones out of my book...
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suppose

Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.

young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a piece of money held between
his thumb and first finger

(i say "will he buy flowers" to you
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i

say to you who are silent- "do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody about something les
roses les bluets
yes,
will He buy?
Les belles bottes-oh hear
, pas cheres")

and my love slowly answered I think so, But
I think I see someone else

there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender
likes flowers.

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"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country 'tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water.
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Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which woud be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard.

Humanity i love you because
when you're hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you're flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shop and because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
esecially in yur own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because ou are forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you
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Since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

Wholly to be a fool
While spring is in the world

My blood approves
And kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
Lady I swear by all the flowers. Don't cry
-The best gesture of my brain is
less than your eyelids' flutter which
says

We are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death I think is no parenthesis