E.E Cumming Poem Analysis

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  • Topic: Love, Sonnet, E. E. Cummings
  • Pages : 3 (1119 words )
  • Download(s) : 1215
  • Published : May 3, 2012
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I carry your heart with me

The poem I have chosen to interpret is called “I carry your heart with me”, written by E.E Cummings. I chose this one for several reasons. First of all, I must admit that I really like talking about love and deep feelings. Then, after reading this particular poem, I was reminded of another one of Cumming’s ardent: "Unless you love someone, nothing else makes sense.”I realize that the author is saying something that I have already faced: someone you loved.

The poem is all about love in its purest form. It represents all kinds of love, love for yourself, love for you child, love for a sibling or parent, even love for a close friend. To me, this poem is a true representation of how, as human beings, we thrive on love. As a lover, I know that where there is love there is a connection to those around us and there is hope. It conveys the message that we are never alone because in the end of the beginning, depending on how you look at it, we all come from love. Even though E.E. Cummings wrote more than 2900 poems, he was also a painter and a true artist at heart. Consequently, he suffered deeply from his father’s death, which “allows” him to talk about love and losses. After this, on can first decribe this poem by this simple sentence: “no matter where you go, love is always there”.

I totally agree with him, and I’m actually happy that someone wrote something about love so deeply. It made me think about my ex-girlfriend, whom I still love so much. I think about her every single day, even if the last time I talked to her was three years ago. I moved to India to do volunteer work for a year, then New York to study, and finally Austin to study again, all the while she is still in France. However, she still consumes my thoughts day and night. It is because I am still in love with her that the feeling of love overwhelms me. And when I think of her my mind races and my palms grow moist, but love, just like everything in life, is ephemeral....
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