Sylvia Plath Poems on Man (21 Poems)

A Life (Sylvia Plath Poems)

Touch it: it won’t shrink like an eyeball, This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear. Here’s yesterday, last year — Palm-spear and lily distinct as flora in the vast Windless threadwork of a tapestry. Flick the glass with your fingernail: … Continue reading →

Daddy (Sylvia Plath Poems)

You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You … Continue reading →

Mad Girl’s Love Song (Sylvia Plath Poems)

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness … Continue reading →

Lady Lazarus (Sylvia Plath Poems)

I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it—- A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine Jew linen. Peel off the … Continue reading →

Lesbos (Sylvia Plath Poems)

Viciousness in the kitchen! The potatoes hiss. It is all Hollywood, windowless, The fluorescent light wincing on and off like a terrible migraine, Coy paper strips for doors – Stage curtains, a widow’s frizz. And I, love, am a pathological … Continue reading →

Getting There (Sylvia Plath Poems)

How far is it? How far is it now? The gigantic gorilla interior Of the wheels move, they appall me — The terrible brains Of Krupp, black muzzles Revolving, the sound Punching out Absence! Like cannon. It is Russia I … Continue reading →

Three Women (Sylvia Plath Poems)

A Poem for Three Voices Setting: A Maternity Ward and round about FIRST VOICE: I am slow as the world. I am very patient, Turning through my time, the suns and stars Regarding me with attention. The moon’s concern is … Continue reading →

The Bee Meeting (Sylvia Plath Poems)

Who are these people at the bridge to meet me? They are the villagers—- The rector, the midwife, the sexton, the agent for bees. In my sleeveless summery dress I have no protection, And they are all gloved and covered, … Continue reading →

Spinster (Sylvia Plath Poems)

Now this particular girl During a ceremonious april walk With her latest suitor Found herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck By the birds’ irregular babel And the leaves’ litter. By this tumult afflicted, she Observed her lover’s gestures unbalance the … Continue reading →

Night Shift (Sylvia Plath Poems)

It was not a heart, beating. That muted boom, that clangor Far off, not blood in the ears Drumming up and fever To impose on the evening. The noise came from outside: A metal detonating Native, evidently, to These stilled … Continue reading →