Due to my disbelief  in  dogmas I’m going to concentrate on E.E. Cummings for some days now. He came to be my favourite poet since i first read about him, and it amazes me how he uses words. He might not be as “new” in terms of theme, even so I love his poetry. Reading any of his poems usually feels like hearing myself think, plain simple but true!

“you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body,to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
Looking into
your eyes Nothing,i said,except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever.

….and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl’s
breast,
lightly)
Do you believe in always,the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe,the rain answered”