MovieChat Forums > General Discussion > A Poem For An Exceptional Man Who Died

A Poem For An Exceptional Man Who Died

posted 6 years ago by R_Kane (15828)
3 replies | jump to latest

Not everyone fits smoothly into this world, and that’s a good thing. This is one of my favorite poems. For dewey.

anyone lived in a pretty how town

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone by anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes

Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

- e. e. cummings

The exceptional so often passes unremarked, wooshing over the heads of someones and everyones. Not here. Not today. He and I were not friends. We did not always, perhaps not often, agree; but I respected him.

[–] thewaitress (1616) 6 years ago

-hugs- :)

[–] R_Kane (15828) 6 years ago

-hugs back-😁

[–] Stratego (30595) 6 years ago

Thank you, Arcane. My knowledge of poetry is extremely limited, but if I think of American poets, Dickonson and Whitman immediately pop into my head. The first is too depressive, so I'll go with the latter:

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you."

"You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you."

The poem goes on and on of course, but these are the best parts. I think they fit Dewey. From what I've been told, I think there's much more you would've admired about him.