e. e. cummings Quotes About Fathers

Quotes about: Fathers

• if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have
  one. It will not be a pansy heaven or
  a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but
  it will be a heaven of blackred roses
  my father will be(deep like a rose
  tall like a rose)
  standing near my
  swaying over her
  (silent)
  with eyes which are really petals and see
  nothing with the face of a poet really which
  is a flower and not a face with
  hands
  which whisper
  This is my beloved my
  (suddenly in sunlight
  he will bow,
  and the whole garden will bow)

  e. e. cummings

  Mother, Father, Flower

  E. E. Cummings (2013). “Like a perhaps hand: Poems. Gedichte”, p.28, C.H.Beck

• my sweet old etcetera aunt lucy during the recent war could and what is more did tell you just what everybody was fighting for, my sister isabel created hundreds (and hundreds) of socks not to mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers etcetera wristers etcetera, my mother hoped that i would die etcetera bravely of course my father used to become hoarse talking about how it was a privilege and if only he could meanwhile my self etcetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of Your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera)

  e. e. cummings

  Mother, Dream, Sweet

  e. e. cummings (2014). “100 Selected Poems”, p.25, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

• At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.

  e. e. cummings

  Children, Father, America

• Certainly the most obvious . . . example of the strictly infantile essence of America's all-conquering mentality greets our eyes daily, anywhere and everywhere, in the guise of the tabloid newspaper. The tabloid newspaper actually means to the typical American of the era what the Bible is popularly supposed to have meant to the typical Pilgrim Father: viz. a very present help in times of trouble, plus a means of keeping out of trouble via harmless, since vicarious, indulgence in the pomps and vanities of this wicked world.

  e. e. cummings

  Father, Mean, Eye

• my
  mother hoped that
  
  i would die etcetera
  bravely of course my father used
  to become hoarse talking about how it was
  a privilege and if only he
  could

  e. e. cummings

  Mother, Father, Talking

  E. E. Cummings (1994). “Selected Poems”, p.141, W. W. Norton & Company

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