Much like most of his contemporaries, ee cummings examines the idea of relationships bringing us back to where we came from, or traveling with us, in his poem "i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)" In this poem, cummings proclaims that love can become home and when it does, we take it with us where ever we may roam.
Much like Edgar Allen Poe in Annabelle Lee, when he discusses his love, it is clear that cummings is devoted to the person to whom he created the poem. In real life, fragments of ourselves stick to those around us, making our effect on the world around us far more eternal than if we were able to go through life unconnected to the people who touch us. While leaving behinds fragments of self can sometimes be a painful and even agonizing experience, it also allows us to reach beyond the grave, as Poe's devotion to his young cousin proved. Although she was gone, she remains remembered forever because of the greatness of his love.
So too with cummings love...whomever it was, he immortalized the fragments of self she left behind inside him in this epic romance of a sonnet.
I love poetry because just like interpersonal relationships, it can leave behind fragments and pieces of itself, stuck to us and forever changing the fabric of the tapestry that represents who we are.
This, in my opinion, makes every life like a patchwork quilt...a history of who we were, who we will be, who we loved, who loved us, the good days, the bad days, the foreverness.
In literature we read it in words, in the beauty of connecting them like pearls on a thread only so long as the story. In life? The pearls can string out covering a hundred years in some cases.
Who do you carry in your heart (like my pirate captain) ...and who carries you in theirs?
About the author:
Virginia Nelson believed them when they said, “Write what you know.” Small town girl writing small town romance, her characters are as full of flaws, misunderstandings, and flat out mistakes as Virginia herself. When she’s is not writing or plotting to take over the world, she likes to hang out with the greatest kids in history, play in the mud, drive far too fast, and scream at inanimate objects. Virginia likes knights in rusted and dinged up armor, heroes that snarl instead of croon, and heroines who can’t remember to say the right thing even with an author writing their dialogue. Her books are full of snark, sex, and random acts of ineptitude—not always in that order.
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