Michael Shepherd

Rookie (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

0189 A Maybe Tribute To E E Cummings - Poem by Michael Shepherd

it was the sound of
the daffodils
growing
that woke
the ear of their ear

on the sun’s birthday

and the lilacs of the scent
said it’s time to wake up
so we can dream

and the amazing
of the roses
woke the eye of their eye

and the words tumbled out of bed
and took an April shower
and dressed by the wrong which was right

shook out the box
of breakfast food called freedom
and rush-houred street-wise see them
words came tumbling

dogs they grinned with mastered feelings
cats were caught off-guard washed
to recover their dignity pretty girls felt prettier

as the words sang
no-ones became someones
anyones became everyones

nothing was as it was
because was wasn’t
and isness filled the air

the words danced in the squares
and smiles peopled
the words laughed through the graveyards
dancing on dead minds

laughed through the brothels
making tired whores to smile and
schoolmasters ate their words
in the eyes of their pupils

and the words shouted through the letterboxes
of critics called nameless shameless blameless
come out and play tomorrow with your
yesterday

words played leapfrog round the toadstools
with each’s other
hand in hand with strangers
laughing till they cried
crying till they laughed

all day it was all day
and therefulness and thenfulness
until the words had scattered
hello among humanunkind

and forming perfectly irregular lines
danced a song and sang a dance
at sunfall dayset nightrise
all happy tired like children
into a farm
called joy


Comments about 0189 A Maybe Tribute To E E Cummings by Michael Shepherd

  • (4/11/2006 5:27:00 PM)


    Amazing! ! ! ! What a fine tribute, this one sings with the joy of life, it bursts through the screen and grabs your heart, I am absolutely in awe of such works as these, You have a true wonder here, Thankyou so much for sharing this one 10,10,10,10
    Love from Duncan
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  • (3/31/2006 9:59:00 AM)


    Let 'er rip Michael - this one joyful katoon. (Report) Reply

  • (3/30/2006 9:13:00 PM)


    A poem like this one makes you feel free. I love ee cummings... Delightful! (Report) Reply

  • (3/30/2006 9:54:00 AM)


    You captured him just right, Miichael...his light-hearted play with words, his teasing the reader with paradox...nice job.

    Raynette
    (Report) Reply

  • (3/30/2006 7:53:00 AM)


    MS, this is the first poem I've read today, and I shall roll it around on my tongue for the rest of the morning. As you know, I have been studying ee cummings out of my own curiosity, and this is not only a tribute to his shimmering wordplay, but I dare say it flows faster and smoother than some he's written. Definitely a new favorite, and a perfect read for this perfect Spring day. Thank you! (Report) Reply

  • (3/30/2006 7:50:00 AM)


    Yes, excellent is the word. I can tell you had fun writing this tribute. Writing in the style of a well-known writer is always a good excercise. I can see how your poem is influenced by cummings. But your own voice is there loud and clear. It's a good poem in its own right. (Report) Reply

  • (3/30/2006 7:22:00 AM)


    oh my god. maybe the best poem of yours i've ever seen. the words just ran down the page. i have never read any ee cummings in fact i know nothing at all of him but the discussions in recent days have intrigued me and this poem has sealed it for me: i have to read some ee cummings! btw, i don't know cummings but i know o'hara and this has the same breathless joy in its release that o'hara's best work has; a real good job michael, absolutely splendid. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 30, 2006

Poem Edited: Friday, July 14, 2006


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