i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings
This poetry serves as a symbol for the common language and knowledge base shared by those who visit this memorial. These quotes were chosen with precision to affect and remind those who read them. The site is a girl’s bathroom situated on a college campus. There is no doubt that the people who walk into those stalls already have a familiarity with the words viewed on these stalls.
A quick comparison between the writings on this year’s stalls and last year’s will show a definite shared knowledge base that already exemplifies a shared collective memory of poetry. The poetry from last year included Emily Dickenson, ee cummings, Edna St. Vincent Millay (all the poetry featured in this project). This year you can find Edgar Allen Poe, Wordsworth, the Bible, and even more ee cummings. These shared interests display a united audience, who can all contribute and gain from the writings. You can even see where other authors have responded positively to a previous writing.
“I feel like people share the things that resonate with them by writing them on a stall for a stranger to see. I feel connected to the doodler, and amused and grateful that contemplation can reach the most inane places. It puts me in a good mood. People are honest on stalls, and it’s great to see that someone chooses to write poetry over the typical number of sex partner questions.” Manjula
(written in pencil) suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door
ee cummings
"the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis"
you are whatever a moon has always meant
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