I read a poem about truth

I read a poem about truth
by e.e. and it spoke to me
in a way only an angel can
whisper warnings
in only a way messengers
of fate zipsingerly weave
tales and spill knowledge
onto the floor I am standing on.
So truth is here?
Truth is here.
If I walked backwards
Truth is here.
If I sidestepped and
moved sideways
truth is here.
he said it
I believe it
follow no path
make no stretch of
just believe
in the mullings of madness
that there is either no truth
at all
truth is
here__ .
and here_______ .


here_______________ .


{{written in e.e.cummings style}}


Memory is more fragile than porcelain

more strong than granite’s soul

more stuck on repeat than mockingbird

more weightless then summer’s gold

it is maddeningly vivid and vivacious

and sanely it nevermore is

than all the stars flickering in violent

contraction are beautiful

Memory is less forever than rainbows

less forgetful than why

less remembered than sometimes

less hopeful than unhurt

It is always loud in soft places

and never quiet in traffic jams

or when all the night has

covered land, and see and eyes

Memory is tougher than hide

more weaker than shattered glass

and only when cats have tongues

will memory ever be unlast