Guest poem submitted by Kamalika Chowdhury :
(Poem #1635) In Just- in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
|
The Minstrels has a fair representation of Edward Estlin Cummings' work. I can't add much to what has been variously said about the unique blend of playful lyric, roller-coaster rhythm and the underlying wondrous melody that spells Cummings. However, I think this poem deserves a mention, if only for the world of innocence and sheer magic it effortlessly conjures. It's like tumbling down the rabbit hole into a "mud-luscious", "puddle-wonderful" spring. IMHO, this poem showcases some of the artist's most tangible uses of tone and space. Note the eye-catching momentum of the "goat-footed balloonMan". Its just as easy to see bubbles stretch in liquid, drawn-out vowels, hear the fading resonance of the whistle's "wee" and feel the "spring" when "bettyanddisbel come dancing". I have always felt that Cummings cannot be read at one go; his poetry always demands at least a second-look. One reads the poem to absorb its flow, and then again to spot its cleverly disguised nooks and crevices. In typical Cummings style, even within the child-like naiveté of "In Just-", there are shadows - nuances of transience, poignancy, perhaps loss. Interpretations ranging from lurking evil (à la balloonman) to a permeating sense of regret have been propounded. But to my perspective, the poem reads as a sort of far-away, dreamy farewell to carefree just-spring. Regards, Kamalika. [Minstrels Links] e. e. cummings: Poem #56, pity this busy monster, manunkind Poem #139, Buffalo Bill's/ defunct Poem #214, Where's Madge then, Poem #311, Untitled Poem #454, If I have made, my lady, intricate Poem #492, Poem 42 Poem #619, somewhere i have never travelled Poem #769, what if a much of a which of a wind Poem #945, O sweet spontaneous Poem #1072, next to of course god america I Poem #1132, if everything happens that can't be done Poem #1260, anyone lived in a pretty how town Poem #1536, All in green went my love riding Poem #1581, Little Tree Poem #1628, suppose
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