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on 30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love by Richard Brautigan, on April 29, 2005Scott Adelmann is entirely correct.
I wish I had someone who could make me think I was never alone. That would rock out loud.
Brautigan was a god in his own rights. I can't believe he committed suicide. It's a tragedy; think of what he could have been. He could still be alive.
I shall have to read more Brautigan to satisfy my soul now. This is simply and beautifully done; I have never read poetry quite like it. It makes me feel real. -
on Sometimes I Am Alive Because With by e e cummings, on April 23, 2005I agree with the above comments. Cummings wrote some very heavy stuff on sex, but somehow still made it seem in such good taste. It makes me want to melt, the way he does it. He sounds like such a gentleman.
I rather like this one. It's so sweet and simple. How does Cummings do it? "the upward singular deepest flower which she carries in a gesture of her hips"--honestly, who else could write something so unconceivably wonderful, beautiful, brilliant?
I don't know a single person.
I would give this to my lover--if I had a lover. Unfortunately, I do not, and thus I weep at my pathetic existence. This poem shows me I'm really missing out. -
on the way to hump a cow is not by e e cummings, on April 23, 2005My friend and I read this the other day in a very old book we found, copyrighted in the '40's. It was awesome. We did a clapping game to it--like the "Miss Susie" one, if you know what I'm talking about. Maybe we're supposed to be more mature, but we're still kids and I think people should embrace their childhood and keep going full force with whatever makes them happy, and let me tell you, acting like a kid can sure make you happy.
Isn't Cummings brilliant? I love the way he messed with the words. He's so clever. If he was alive, I would show up at his house and be his mistress, now and forever. Not really, but I would probably stalk the poor guy.
Cummings is amazing.
"your hair coming down you
wanted to explode out of
what was holding you"
Those lines make me sad; they make me think of the past and it gets me all sick and pathetic-feeling. I love that he can get that reaction of me. "you were killed by knowing too much" And sometimes it feels like we know too much and it just seems to kill us... A toast to Bukowski.