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I was always interested in poetry, but didn’t read e. e. cummings’ work until recently. Love it! He’s eccentric, unique, authentic, to-the-point, lyrical. “Humanity, i love you”, for example, shows his genius. Changing paragraphs in the middle of a sentence. Imagining a “soul” “dangling from a watch-chain”. Yes, we do pawn our intelligence. Yes, we do make poems in the lap of death. And cummings is the only one who sees the truth of our existence as it is.

Poets are the ultimate saviors of humanity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would 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 shops and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your 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 you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you

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Embracing my angry self

I scream

I yell

I retort

I explain

I argue

Embracing my depressed self

I cry

I sleep

I hide

I die

I shiver

Embracing my Buddha self

I witness

I observe

I feel

I meditate

I forgive

Embracing my non-self

I exist

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while you were pursuing one wounded woman after another, consoling her, encouraging her, supporting her, being betrayed by her, saving her, financing her, loving her, making love to her, praying for her, demonizing her, scolding her, mothering her, fathering her, deityfying her, begging her, curing her, being manipulated by her, reading to her, crying for her, losing her, finding her, meditating for her, writing to her, suffering for her, being confused by her, losing your sanity over her,

i was here,

waiting,

for you.

i did not require nor wanted to be saved.

you were ambivalent at best when i asked about us in a relationship.

i compromised.

your marital search is returning no results.

you won’t compromise.

who you want, you won’t find.

what you think you want has never been good for you.

if you truly wanted a synchronous unconditional mutual fulfilling spiritual poetic truthful authentic playful generous love, you might have given me: a chance.

not that half-hearted morning after the soul touching night that we made love.

here we are.

you continue your fruitless search.

i learn to live with and love another, while loving you.

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