E.E. Cummings profile picture

E.E. Cummings

About Me


Why do you paint?
For exactly the same reason I breathe.
That’s not an answer.
There isn’t any answer.
How long hasn’t there been any answer?
As long as I can remember.
And how long have you written?
As long as I can remember.
I mean poetry.
So do I.
Tell me, doesn’t your painting interfere with your writing?
Quite the contrary: they love each other dearly.
They’re very different.
Very: one is painting and one is writing.
But your poems are rather hard to understand, whereas your
paintings are so easy.
Easy?
Of course--you paint flowers and girls and sunsets; things
that everybody understands.
I never met him.
Who?
Everybody.
Did you ever hear of nonrepresentational painting?
I am.
Pardon me?
I am a painter, and painting is nonrepresentational.
Not all painting.
No: housepainting is representational.
And what does a housepainter represent?
Ten dollars an hour.
In other words, you don’t want to be serious--
It takes two to be serious.
Well let me see...oh yes, one more question: where will
you live after this war is over?
In China; as usual.
China?
Of course.
Wherabouts in China?
Where a painter is a poet.
The day of spoken lyric is past. The poem which has at
last taken its place does not sing itself; it builds
itself, three dimensionally, gradually, subtly,
in the consciousness of the experiencer.

My Interests

I'd like to meet:

Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, Amy Lowell, John Dos Passos, Marianne Moore

My Blog

I sing of olaf

i sing of Olaf glad and bigwhose warmest heart recoiled at war:a conscientious object-orhis wellbelovéd colonel(trigwestpointer most succinctly bred)took erring Olaf soon in hand; but--though an host ...
Posted by on Mon, 28 May 2007 13:59:00 GMT

Poetry

Someone (i won'tsaywho) wantedtoknow how allmypoetry shouldberead                         To...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 13:34:00 GMT

anyone lived in a pretty how town

anyone lived in a pretty how town(with up so floating many bells down)spring summer autumn winterhe sang his didn't he danced his did.Women and men(both little and small)cared for anyone not at allthe...
Posted by on Mon, 19 Mar 2007 11:34:00 GMT

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyondany 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 nearyour ...
Posted by on Fri, 16 Mar 2007 10:11:00 GMT

if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have

if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) haveone. It will not be a pansy heaven nora fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley butit will be a heaven of blackred rosesmy father will be(de...
Posted by on Thu, 15 Mar 2007 10:05:00 GMT

"next to of course god america i

"next to of course god america ilove you land of the pilgrims' and so forth ohsay can you see by the dawn's early mycountry  'tis of centuries come and goand are no more what of it we should worr...
Posted by on Wed, 14 Mar 2007 09:53:00 GMT

the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls

the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished soulsare unbeautiful and have comfortable minds(also, with the church's protestant blessingsdaughters,unscented shapeless spirited)they believe in Christ and...
Posted by on Tue, 13 Mar 2007 09:44:00 GMT

Buffalo Bill's

Buffalo Bill'sdefunct         ;    who used to         &nbs p;  ride a watersmooth-silver &nb...
Posted by on Mon, 12 Mar 2007 17:02:00 GMT

in Just-

Iin Just-spring       when the world is mud-luscious the littlelame balloonmanwhistles     far     and weeand eddieandbill comerun...
Posted by on Fri, 19 Jan 2007 21:05:00 GMT