My dear friend and champion of peace, Ann Keeler Evans has been reminding me lately about the importance of being present, and in-the-moment. But after starting the new year with a bad cold, followed by a knock-out horrible bout of the flu virus, I found myself needing a little bit of hope. And she’s right, as I feel better, it’s easier to be present. But this week I was looking at previous spring posts, and the milder days associated with them.
Love, so often associated with spring, with bees and birds, this got me to thinking of our new-ish Thursday Love Poem feature, inspired by the flagship poem of lot, “Thursday,” by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
It’s rather an anti-love poem, a thumb-your-nose-at-love-poem, a men-have-treated-us-like-this-for-eons-and-now-it’s-my-turn-poem. But a poem need not be anti-love to qualify for the Thursday Love Poem slot. It only needs to make us think, or as I once said, squint our eyes, stand on our heads, and glance sideways at the whole circus of love. It’s got to be different, and in doing so, it’s got to stretch the mind as well as the heart.
I think these two poems by modern master E. E. Cummings succeed in doing just that. Hey, how about that–two for the price of one! This first one was recorded almost two years ago for my personal Record-a-Poem-a-Day-Challenge during 2012’s National Poetry Month in April. I was experimenting with making the video mimic what the poem was doing. Some loved it while others were decidedly unimpressed. Still, it’s about Spring, about Time and it’s seeming predictability, while pointing out that flowers, birds and bees do not use clocks.
The second one below it has never been on this blog before, though I had recorded it on my balcony in July of 2011 and had uploaded it to my YouTube channel where it too received mixed reviews. It was a request from a sexy teacher-friend and so I was attempting to be kinda mock-sexy. I think some people took my stance (Come on, shades? Don’t you recognize a poser making fun of posers when he poses?) a bit too seriously. I was trying to capture the poet’s brilliance whilst poking fun at the drama of it all, hoping it worked. Well, for some it did, but others. . . Ah, you can’t roll sixes every time.
I hope these two springy poems about love help to thaw your cold, winterized heart. Unless of course you live south of the equator, in which case I am far to envious to even talk to you right now.
Related articles
David J. Bauman 
Since Feeling is First—stunning (couldn’t imagine it without the shades).
LikeLike
And this is why I love you! Thank you, Kelvin, you are like a surgeon the way you stitch up my wounded ego.
LikeLike
David, you made me think and smile again. Brilliant! Keep poking fun at the drama. I will too, taking care that it doesn’t blow up in my face…..as it sometimes does. Sigh. ha ha 🙂
LikeLike
Yes, always careful. Thank you!
LikeLike
Very brave and wonderful readings of difficult poems. You get his words in your mouth and hand them over to us. so sweet. Thanks!
LikeLike
Thanks, dear! If I were to record 9 again I might read it differently. As it was I was experimenting with his line endings which really stretch my imagination. But I really enjoyed the visuals and especially enjoyed how “feeling is first” turned out.
LikeLike
As is most often the case, your readings I believe were true to the poet’s intent.
LikeLike
That means a lot to me, Charles, because for all my talk about reader response, I think every poet really is striving for something that he or she hopes the reader will connect with.
LikeLike
Very cute. I enjoyed these. Love Cummings.
LikeLike
Thanks, Deborah! I do too.
LikeLike