e.e.Cummings, The Painter

I just learned that Cummings was a painter to start with. I think he made the right decision to switch to poetry. Here are examples of both.

Narsturtiums and Marigolds

My Mind Is
my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and
taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and
chipping with sharp fatal tools
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of
chrome and execute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am
becoming something a little different, in fact
myself
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet
bellowings.