Guest poem submitted by Anustup Datta :
(Poem #311) Untitled
"think of it: not so long ago this was a village" "yes; i know" "of human beings who prayed and sang, or am i wrong?" "no, you're not wrong" "and worked like hell six days out of seven" "to die as they lived: in the hope of heaven" "didn't two roads meet here?" "they did; and over yonder a schoolhouse stood" "do i remember a girl with blue- sky eyes and sun-yellow hair?" "do you?" "absolutely" "that's very odd, for i've never forgotten one frecklefaced lad' "what could have happened to her and him?" "maybe they walked and called it a dream" "in this dream were there green and gold meadows?" "through which a lazy brook strolled" "wonder if clover still smells that way; up in the mow" "full of newmown hay" "and the shadows and sounds and silences" "Yes, a barn could be a magical place" "nothing's the same, is it?" "something still remains, my friend, and always will" "namely?" "if any woman knows, one man in a million ought to guess" "what of the dreams that never die?" "turn to your left at the end of the sky" "where are the girls whose breasts begin?" "under the boys who fish with a pin"
One of the really original poets of the first half of the century, cummings is sadly labelled too often an 'experimenter with form'. This label tends to gloss over his worderfully evocative language and mastery of love poetry. Today's poem is not the most celebrated of his oeuvre, but captures the quiddity of his art - wonderfully constructed poetic scheme, beautiful use of words and images, poignancy of emotion - quite unconsciously, it raises a lump in your throat. Do read it aloud. Anustup.