black
grey
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Always the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.

E. E. Cummings

A poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Creation Existence Experience Movement Poet Possible
The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Artist Himself Learning Order
Most people are perfectly afraid of silence.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Afraid People Silence
Love is the whole and more than all.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Love One Liner
The eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Deep Eyes Myself One Liner Open
A politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Exception Man Politics
Somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond any 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 near.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Beyond Experience Eyes Happiness Myself Silence Touch Travel
The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Change Nature Soft Touch
You shall above all things be glad and young For if you’re young, whatever life you wear it will become you; and if you are glad whatever’s living will yourself become.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Deep Happiness Life Live Nature Transformation Wisdom Young
Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Born Light Moon Myself Spirit Stars Sun
The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Artist Himself Learning Order
An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Fight Intelligence Lost Person
You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Break Myself Play Thinking Toy
The eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Deep Eyes Myself One Liner Open
Notice the convulsed orange inch of moon perching on this silver minute of evening.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Appearance Minute Moon
It is with roses and locomotives that my poems are competing.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Competition Myself Poem Rose

Always the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.

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Always the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.

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