Long Poems on Sylvia Plath
#SylviaPlath
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
14th Feb 2019 10:41pm
14th Feb 2019 10:41pm
Her Love Is A Madness
I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.’
-Sylvia Plath
When did I become mad,
the day I began loving you,
singing in my head how we
are one instead of two
Or crashing ashore in winters wrath,
rockweed wringing hands around
granite boulders moved only in storms
at highest peaks of existence
where you were there, only you and I
and the fullest moon ---
A lunacy!
Did you ever envision me
that I might...
But I grow old and I forget your name.’
-Sylvia Plath
When did I become mad,
the day I began loving you,
singing in my head how we
are one instead of two
Or crashing ashore in winters wrath,
rockweed wringing hands around
granite boulders moved only in storms
at highest peaks of existence
where you were there, only you and I
and the fullest moon ---
A lunacy!
Did you ever envision me
that I might...
#love
#sea
#beach #SylviaPlath
#beach #SylviaPlath
861 reads
9 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
20th Nov 2018 2:03am
20th Nov 2018 2:03am
Cemetary Walk In November
This is what it is to be complete,
it is horrible.’
-Sylvia Plath
Kicking through leaves
the whitened stones unannounce themselves
to rushing air, quiet, unreckoned,
pandering to a deceased moment
which endlessly repeats its
howling, repentant song.
I am never coming back, it says,
who would, not here, not ever.
Underfoot I notice trampled clothes
and a belt, an opened packet of something,
a whiskey bottle freezes gradually to
the patchy ground.
How unholy, lifes...
it is horrible.’
-Sylvia Plath
Kicking through leaves
the whitened stones unannounce themselves
to rushing air, quiet, unreckoned,
pandering to a deceased moment
which endlessly repeats its
howling, repentant song.
I am never coming back, it says,
who would, not here, not ever.
Underfoot I notice trampled clothes
and a belt, an opened packet of something,
a whiskey bottle freezes gradually to
the patchy ground.
How unholy, lifes...
#fall
#memorial
#graveyard #SylviaPlath
#graveyard #SylviaPlath
809 reads
11 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
1st Jun 2018 11:00pm
1st Jun 2018 11:00pm
Black Lake
It is a chilly God, a God of shades
Rises to the glass from his black fathoms’
- Sylvia Plath
‘Tis a black lake, one of indecision
Wherein the finished souls scream to the
Oblivion of bottomless trepidation.
Where here, they cannot turn back to
The fuzzy stasis of life itself ---
Aran-knit pleasantries
And a warm teacup on a
Green, knotty hillside and sheep in a mist,
Blank-eyed and innocent, no.
The hills have surpassed them a hundred times
And...
Rises to the glass from his black fathoms’
- Sylvia Plath
‘Tis a black lake, one of indecision
Wherein the finished souls scream to the
Oblivion of bottomless trepidation.
Where here, they cannot turn back to
The fuzzy stasis of life itself ---
Aran-knit pleasantries
And a warm teacup on a
Green, knotty hillside and sheep in a mist,
Blank-eyed and innocent, no.
The hills have surpassed them a hundred times
And...
#death
#spiritual
#SylviaPlath
836 reads
10 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
4th Apr 2018 2:40am
4th Apr 2018 2:40am
At Land's End
The future is a grey seagull
tattling in its cat-voice of departure.'
- Sylvia Plath
The grey-green abyss looks placid
In its stark rendition of loneliness.
It harbors creatures below the dim surface
With its pale streams of white light.
Are you down there, precious All-knowing?
The smell is heavy salt and brackish awareness;
It truly drowns the olfactory avoidance of it.
And it is in my mouth, too,
I can taste its chemical-laced brine, its metallics
As I become one with its...
tattling in its cat-voice of departure.'
- Sylvia Plath
The grey-green abyss looks placid
In its stark rendition of loneliness.
It harbors creatures below the dim surface
With its pale streams of white light.
Are you down there, precious All-knowing?
The smell is heavy salt and brackish awareness;
It truly drowns the olfactory avoidance of it.
And it is in my mouth, too,
I can taste its chemical-laced brine, its metallics
As I become one with its...
#sea
#beach
#SylviaPlath
990 reads
8 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
15th Feb 2018 8:23pm
15th Feb 2018 8:23pm
Dark Fruit
In this light the blood is black,
Tell me my name.'
- Sylvia Plath
I forgot who I was under a tree,
The garish light
Filtered by fractured leaves.
The white knuckles at dawn,
Those dumb uncertainties.
Who is it? I say.
I am halfway to Moonrise ---
A quickening of utterances
Ushers me to the occasion
Of my own acquiescing.
I remember too much
To abort this freedom.
.....
Tell me who I am,
Oh, furtive seekers...
Tell me my name.'
- Sylvia Plath
I forgot who I was under a tree,
The garish light
Filtered by fractured leaves.
The white knuckles at dawn,
Those dumb uncertainties.
Who is it? I say.
I am halfway to Moonrise ---
A quickening of utterances
Ushers me to the occasion
Of my own acquiescing.
I remember too much
To abort this freedom.
.....
Tell me who I am,
Oh, furtive seekers...
#dark
#SylviaPlath
1049 reads
14 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
21st Dec 2017 11:07pm
21st Dec 2017 11:07pm
Electra Dreams
(1)
In my electric dreams, Daddy
always cared for me,
his neon promises delivered.
Words and notions, tears
never found such absorbent
sympathetic ears.
His grotto of love was
everflowing and cascadant;
never was anyone else above
me.
Especially when Mom left him,
Oh, I shined like a diamond ring
he wore on his pinkie.
But Daddys have their secrets;
his was how much he needed me;
I heard his eyes whisper it.
And I couldn’t stand the pain,
couldn’t bear the rain but ...
In my electric dreams, Daddy
always cared for me,
his neon promises delivered.
Words and notions, tears
never found such absorbent
sympathetic ears.
His grotto of love was
everflowing and cascadant;
never was anyone else above
me.
Especially when Mom left him,
Oh, I shined like a diamond ring
he wore on his pinkie.
But Daddys have their secrets;
his was how much he needed me;
I heard his eyes whisper it.
And I couldn’t stand the pain,
couldn’t bear the rain but ...
#father
#SylviaPlath
698 reads
2 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
18th Oct 2017 10:34pm
18th Oct 2017 10:34pm
Moon Of Steel
It is a heart,
This holocaust I walk in,
O golden child the world will kill and eat. ‘
- Sylvia Plath
(1)
Oh, caustic dream,
Coiled neatly as a spring,
How you wait.
You release your deities
Marrow to holiness ---
A sacrificial precipitate.
The gentle creature
Stirs in a basin of
Hollowed out containment
Awaiting the lactation of
A thousand milky stars,
And I saw it,
Numbingly fortunate on
A crisp, linen sheet
Stained by heresy. ...
This holocaust I walk in,
O golden child the world will kill and eat. ‘
- Sylvia Plath
(1)
Oh, caustic dream,
Coiled neatly as a spring,
How you wait.
You release your deities
Marrow to holiness ---
A sacrificial precipitate.
The gentle creature
Stirs in a basin of
Hollowed out containment
Awaiting the lactation of
A thousand milky stars,
And I saw it,
Numbingly fortunate on
A crisp, linen sheet
Stained by heresy. ...
#dark
#SylviaPlath
762 reads
4 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
14th Sep 2017 10:53pm
14th Sep 2017 10:53pm
The Forgetting
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets. '
-Sylvia Plath
(1)
Here, where the sea
Meets the sky
How I drift, drift away,
Forgetting it all somehow.
I am a zephyr ---
Painted blue to match
The sky.
How the nascents are
Overwhelming, the clouds
Copious with this
Cotton ---
Peeling from a harvest of
Forgotten dreams;
Goals.
How I wrote of this place
When dawn found me
Suspended in red-auburn
Embellishment ---
The Moons final...
-Sylvia Plath
(1)
Here, where the sea
Meets the sky
How I drift, drift away,
Forgetting it all somehow.
I am a zephyr ---
Painted blue to match
The sky.
How the nascents are
Overwhelming, the clouds
Copious with this
Cotton ---
Peeling from a harvest of
Forgotten dreams;
Goals.
How I wrote of this place
When dawn found me
Suspended in red-auburn
Embellishment ---
The Moons final...
#sea
#sky
#SylviaPlath
655 reads
2 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
18th Aug 2017 10:46pm
18th Aug 2017 10:46pm
Under Stones
I am terrified of this dark thing
That sleeps in me
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.'
-Sylvia Plath
(1)
What would it take to
Tap into me, The World ---
A great Mother-Tree.
For I am sunk beneath stones
An infiltration of what you
Cannot see ---
I am at this very bottom,
I know how you fear me.
A transformational ruse,
A standard of legacies;
Wrought by curiosity.
How I meld into this fray,
Dug deep by moles...
That sleeps in me
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.'
-Sylvia Plath
(1)
What would it take to
Tap into me, The World ---
A great Mother-Tree.
For I am sunk beneath stones
An infiltration of what you
Cannot see ---
I am at this very bottom,
I know how you fear me.
A transformational ruse,
A standard of legacies;
Wrought by curiosity.
How I meld into this fray,
Dug deep by moles...
#trees
#nature
#SylviaPlath
770 reads
8 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
29th Jun 2017 11:36pm
29th Jun 2017 11:36pm
The Veil
If you only knew how the veils were
killing my days ' -Sylvia Plath
(1)
Lift the veil ---
The secret is revealed.
The numbing millennia
Cannot shake its
Vestiges.
It slithers a substance
Flaccid as a January morn,
Stiffening its shimmering
Substitutions.
It has a heart
As secrets do, it wears a
Suit of grey; its weatherproof
Guaranteed not to fail
Anytime soon.
The still air preys upon it
To silence its last shriek;
To become the Earths' sweetheart
In...
killing my days ' -Sylvia Plath
(1)
Lift the veil ---
The secret is revealed.
The numbing millennia
Cannot shake its
Vestiges.
It slithers a substance
Flaccid as a January morn,
Stiffening its shimmering
Substitutions.
It has a heart
As secrets do, it wears a
Suit of grey; its weatherproof
Guaranteed not to fail
Anytime soon.
The still air preys upon it
To silence its last shriek;
To become the Earths' sweetheart
In...
#death
#SylviaPlath
808 reads
7 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
14th Jun 2017 10:04pm
14th Jun 2017 10:04pm
Adrift
I am too pure for you or anyone.
Your body
Hurts me as the world hurts God. '
- Sylvia Plath
(1)
A candles credulosity
Cast away to repair
Tentacles of green
Airspray.
Salt of the earth
Eaten red, a blare
Sickens the heart of Mary.
I need not your abysmal
Tunnel of depravity deepening
Creeping on air,
Destitute;
Rising serpentine swath
Of indignant hair.
Silken wafer
Body of oneness,
Leave, leave ---
Break the surface
To sink...
Your body
Hurts me as the world hurts God. '
- Sylvia Plath
(1)
A candles credulosity
Cast away to repair
Tentacles of green
Airspray.
Salt of the earth
Eaten red, a blare
Sickens the heart of Mary.
I need not your abysmal
Tunnel of depravity deepening
Creeping on air,
Destitute;
Rising serpentine swath
Of indignant hair.
Silken wafer
Body of oneness,
Leave, leave ---
Break the surface
To sink...
#SylviaPlath
845 reads
3 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
28th Apr 2017 6:31pm
28th Apr 2017 6:31pm
I Am Not Dust
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary
The trees of the mind are black.
The light is blue.' - Sylvia Plath
(1)
Under the dew
There is a place ---
Cold, dark and wild,
Embued with peace.
The moon is aware of it
In its pale knowing;
It is blue-black, A-ghast.
I came from the dirt to
Return to wintering
Here, where I no longer
Drip red ---
Blunt razor in hand like
The space in between
My thoughts ---
I need no pardon here
From...
The trees of the mind are black.
The light is blue.' - Sylvia Plath
(1)
Under the dew
There is a place ---
Cold, dark and wild,
Embued with peace.
The moon is aware of it
In its pale knowing;
It is blue-black, A-ghast.
I came from the dirt to
Return to wintering
Here, where I no longer
Drip red ---
Blunt razor in hand like
The space in between
My thoughts ---
I need no pardon here
From...
#SylviaPlath
#graveyard
947 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Poems on Sylvia Plath
#SylviaPlath is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
