amazing.
I fell in love today with e.e. cummings. I sat there reading poem after poem, just in awe of how amazing this stuff is.
The thing that's amazing about a poem is you can read it slowly, over and over, and instead of becoming old and stale like an overused tv show, it becomes more and more.
Last year i took AP english Literature, and I fell out of love with reading. I got so dragged down in the pathetic analysis and details and writing essays and ripping everything to orderly shreds. I forgot what it was like to simply read a poem.
One Shabat morning in Szfat, I sat up in my little hotel room till 11 AM
The window shutters were open above the broken air conditioner
The breeze seemed full of kaballah
The real kind, past Madonna turned Esther
My roomate was still sleeping or ambitiously awake for services
And I rested by the window and read Yehuda Amechai poems.
That was the closest to Sabbath peace that I think i've ever felt.
Finally, here's one poem to leave you with.
If
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn't a lie,
Life would be delight,-
But things couldn't go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn't be I.
If earth was heaven, and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I'd be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn't be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,-
Yet they'd all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn't be we.
ee cummings