e. e. cummings/Word Mash-ups

What I like most about e. e. cummings is his syntax and his unique arrangement of words. I'm not sure I really understand the full meaning of his poems, like "in Just-", but I think the combinations of words and lack of spaces contribute to the meaning somehow. 


I find word combos like "mud-luscious" and "puddle-wonderful" to be intriguing and appealing just on their own. When I write I often find myself thinking, "Wait, does the phrase I just used even exist? Will people know what I'm saying?" But when this came up in conversation with a friend, she reminded me that the great thing about writing is that you can (and should) do whatever you want - as long as it isn't just nonsense, and it serves a purpose. Sometimes there aren't any existing words that have the same specific meaning, sound, imagery, etc. as something like "mud-luscious".
In the context of "in Just-", I get the feeling that "mud-luscious" is meant to convey multiple meanings, especially because of the way it's positioned, running from one line to the next.

"spring when the world is mud-
luscious..." 

You can choose to see this as one word or two. Alone, mud is dirty, slimy, unpleasant. Paired with luscious, it can be seen as soft, rich, gooey. It evokes feelings of playfulness. It reminds me of being little and walking on the grass surrounding the sprinkler in my yard, actually seeking out muddy spots.
I think this combination of words captures the complexity of emotion and sensation in a really interesting way. Most feelings are ambiguous; they're not static and dimensionless. There's more than just "good/bad" or "happy/sad". Every sensation is a spectrum of emotions, layered and blended and connected in some way. So why not mash some words together to reflect this honestly instead of trying to convey concrete meanings?
I don't know if that's what e. e. cummings was trying to do, but that's the impression I got. 


The same friend that I mentioned earlier did something similar in a poem she wrote a couple months ago. Here's a small part of it: 

A wintered silence beats through your house, yet
the tips of your toes, the edges
of your fingers comically, faithfully, boldly
howl from underneath that quilt your grandmother made all
those years ago, which now hides
in the ever-present darkness that is the
batcaveforest you call home.

"batcaveforest" has no specific, concrete meaning, but I think it still conveys the feeling she wanted to express. I think of a cave as something hollow and empty, and a forest as something dense. At first this seems contradictory, which could be one way that she meant to portray it. But then if I think of the cave as dark and mysterious, and the forest as impenetrable, the words work together. 

I don't know, I just find this really interesting.