Sylvia Plath Poems (121 Poems)
Fever 103° (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Pure? What does it mean? The tongues of hell Are dull, dull as the triple Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable Of licking clean The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin. The tinder cries. The … Continue reading
Blackberrying (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries, Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly, A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries Big as the ball … Continue reading
Wuthering Heights (Sylvia Plath Poems)
The horizons ring me like faggots, Tilted and disparate, and always unstable. Touched by a match, they might warm me, And their fine lines singe The air to orange Before the distances they pin evaporate, Weighting the pale sky with … Continue reading
Aftermath (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Compelled by calamity’s magnet They loiter and stare as if the house Burnt-out were theirs, or as if they thought Some scandal might any minute ooze From a smoke-choked closet into light; No deaths, no prodigious injuries Glut these hunters … Continue reading
I Am Vertical (Sylvia Plath Poems)
But I would rather be horizontal. I am not a tree with my root in the soil Sucking up minerals and motherly love So that each March I may gleam into leaf, Nor am I the beauty of a garden … 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 Arrival Of The Bee Box (Sylvia Plath Poems)
I ordered this, clean wood box Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift. I would say it was the coffin of a midget Or a square baby Were there not such a din in it. The box … Continue reading
Poppies In July (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Little poppies, little hell flames, Do you do no harm? You flicker. I cannot touch you. I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns And it exhausts me to watch you Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like … Continue reading
Sow (Sylvia Plath Poems)
God knows how our neighbor managed to breed His great sow: Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid In the same way He kept the sow–impounded from public stare, Prize ribbon and pig show. But one dusk our questions … Continue reading
The Moon And The Yew Tree (Sylvia Plath Poems)
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue. The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God Prickling my ankles and murmuring of … Continue reading
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