love is a place

love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places

yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds

-E. E. Cummings, 1935

- - - - -


I still don't know what to make of this. But that's my goal. To make a poem that seems so profoundly awkward that once you finish reading it, you just say to yourself, "What the eff??" Yet it can still kindle commotion and explications.

What I DID make of this: love is a place that people want to "go" to, where they feel secure (like home itself). I guess sort of like how people want to go to heaven. Love is not created, but just THERE, and can be discovered.

"Yes is a world." And when you live in a world where everyone is granted all their desires, all people (assumed as "all worlds") will thrive in unity.

But I could be wrong. I seriously don't know what this is about.


My source: How to Reduce the Ego