when faces called flowers

I love imagining a lusty young soldier reciting these words to his coquettish young quarry. "Alive we're alive dear it's (kiss me now) spring!" Too fun this is. Again, try to ignore the amateur who flubbed up the words in this recording . . .

when faces called flowers float out of the ground

and breathing is wishing and wishing is having-
but keeping is downward and doubting and never
-it's april(yes,april;my darling)it's spring!
yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can fly
yes the little fish gambol as glad as can be
(yes the mountains are dancing together)

when every leaf opens without any sound
and wishing is having and having is giving-
but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense
-alive;we're alive,dear:it's(kiss me now)spring!
now the pretty birds hover so she and so he
now the little fish quiver so you and so i
(now the mountains are dancing, the mountains)

when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)

in Spring comes

I didn't have the heart to knock these whimsical creations from the side of the house. I know July doesn't count as spring and cicadas are summer phenomena, but these photos harmonize with this e.e. cummings poem in a way my voice never will.

in

Spring comes(no
one
asks his name

a mender
of things

with eager
fingers(with
patient
eyes)re

-new-

ing remaking what
other
-wise we should
have
thrown a-

way(and whose

brook
-bright flower-
soft bird
-quick voice loves

children
and sunlight and

mountains)in april(but
if he should
Smile)comes

nobody'll know

in Just-spring

in Just-

spring when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far and wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles

far

and

wee

-e.e. cummings

Spring is like a perhaps hand

My favorite poem of the set, but also the most difficult to sing. Excuse my inaccuracies. Could this "perhaps hand" please place a few more millimeters of space between my tongue and soft palate without breaking anything?

Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.

-e.e. cummings

who knows if the moon's a balloon

What would e.e. cummings have thought of having his poetry set to music? Chances are he'd be pretty pissed, and I wouldn't blame him. I think there are few if any composers who can match his avant garde and satirical style. It's my humble opinion that Dominic Argento comes pretty close. Don't take my word for it, though. Also, try to ignore the singer, if you can.