Poems Inspired by Sylvia Plath
#SylviaPlath
Poems inspired by Sylvia Plath. Here you'll find poetry using the style, themes or characters found in poems and short stories by Sylvia Plath. Along with poems about Plath herself, including praise, criticism and memorials.
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
880 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
1016 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
1092 reads
14 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
19th Jan 2018 7:25pm
19th Jan 2018 7:25pm
Banished Words
Hush, do you hear the sound
of my churning mantras
sullen in their mediocre drudgery?
Can you mouth the severances
that spoke a language I created to
breathe on its own?
Will you inhale it to spew it forth
to rebirth the futile creature as
drivel runs on a page baptised
by my tears?
As pages ripped from the
testament of my heart ---
How the roots of my evil
are those words.
Shall I tear and burn
this libel I created, this
life I berated?
Will you hate it too as you ...
of my churning mantras
sullen in their mediocre drudgery?
Can you mouth the severances
that spoke a language I created to
breathe on its own?
Will you inhale it to spew it forth
to rebirth the futile creature as
drivel runs on a page baptised
by my tears?
As pages ripped from the
testament of my heart ---
How the roots of my evil
are those words.
Shall I tear and burn
this libel I created, this
life I berated?
Will you hate it too as you ...
#SylviaPlath
#LifeAsAWriter
621 reads
2 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
738 reads
2 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
21st Dec 2017 11:04pm
21st Dec 2017 11:04pm
The Undoing
Born green we were
to this flawed garden,
but in speckled thickets, warted as a toad,
spitefully sulks our warden,
fixing his snare
which hauls down buck, cock, trout, till all most fair
is tricked to faulter in split blood ‘
- Sylvia Plath
.....
Warped existence;
trampled on gentleness ---
the white violet
shuns its reflection
and we; entangled
shed our efficacies.
Split from timbre
of a forests unmaking
we; unmoved ...
to this flawed garden,
but in speckled thickets, warted as a toad,
spitefully sulks our warden,
fixing his snare
which hauls down buck, cock, trout, till all most fair
is tricked to faulter in split blood ‘
- Sylvia Plath
.....
Warped existence;
trampled on gentleness ---
the white violet
shuns its reflection
and we; entangled
shed our efficacies.
Split from timbre
of a forests unmaking
we; unmoved ...
#love
#SylviaPlath
#FallingInLove
605 reads
4 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
7th Dec 2017 7:45pm
7th Dec 2017 7:45pm
Rose Garden
Rose Garden, bringer of light,
Can I touch your majesty ---
It is illusive as
blood unshed.
Trap me in your glory ---
A thorn has never been so
Deliberate as you.
Loves contraption I inhale
To emerge on pale stems as
Beads of your curse,
As fated as the physical self
To run home as rivers to sea.
To place your buds in vases ---
Such homing you would never know,
But to wither on the bush,
To only find with time to grow
Into your season; your destiny.
So, my heart for you would grow. ...
Can I touch your majesty ---
It is illusive as
blood unshed.
Trap me in your glory ---
A thorn has never been so
Deliberate as you.
Loves contraption I inhale
To emerge on pale stems as
Beads of your curse,
As fated as the physical self
To run home as rivers to sea.
To place your buds in vases ---
Such homing you would never know,
But to wither on the bush,
To only find with time to grow
Into your season; your destiny.
So, my heart for you would grow. ...
#rose
#SylviaPlath
675 reads
0 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
798 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
690 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
813 reads
8 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
19th Jul 2017 1:10am
19th Jul 2017 1:10am
Arien
Ride the wind, carry your torch
Such mythology ---
A splendor.
Swallow the fitful wave
As you arise to cast your
Dubious divide.
How deep your furrows
Rising agonic ---
What demise.
Your pace I can never catch
Shaken to rein, barebacked;
So empty inside.
Hands peel away as
You fly, mercuric, borne of
A heavens' stride.
My head flies back
Hair locked in a vaccum to
Reciprocity, a candor.
Estuarian blankness,
A stasis to penetrate
The worlds...
Such mythology ---
A splendor.
Swallow the fitful wave
As you arise to cast your
Dubious divide.
How deep your furrows
Rising agonic ---
What demise.
Your pace I can never catch
Shaken to rein, barebacked;
So empty inside.
Hands peel away as
You fly, mercuric, borne of
A heavens' stride.
My head flies back
Hair locked in a vaccum to
Reciprocity, a candor.
Estuarian blankness,
A stasis to penetrate
The worlds...
#horses
#SylviaPlath
#LifeAsAWriter
725 reads
6 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
845 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Sylvia Plath
#SylviaPlath is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
