Last week

I mean "last week" in two different senses:  First, I skipped the blog last week because I was mostly drunk in Chicago (drunk trying to get over how badly I was doing on the GDS exam); second, I found out in class today that this is going to be the last week we have to keep a blog.

Since I haven't done a week on a definite theme yet, I decided to do that for this week.  I have my copy of E.E. Cummings' Collected Poems here in my office (as opposed to most of my books, which are in boxes I still haven't unpacked after moving in August), so I'll do my theme week on that.

Contrary to the popular perception that Cummings was primarily an experimental poet, about two-thirds of all his poems are sonnets---the reason why I bought this book in the first place was that I wanted to learn from him how a sonnet works---so I'm posting a sonnet today.  This is the 92nd poem in his 1958 book "95 Poems":
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92

By E.E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                       i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)