Daddy (Sylvia Plath Poems)
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot ...
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot ...
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing. I want to fill it with color and ducks, The zoo ...
Through frost-thick weather This witch sidles, fingers crooked, as if Caught in a hazardous medium that might Merely by its ...
I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus With tigery stripes, and a face on it Round ...
How this tart fable instructs And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap Set in the proverbs stitched on ...
There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself -- Infinite, green, utterly untouchable. Angels swim in it, ...
It happens. Will it go on? ---- My mind a rock, No fingers to grip, no tongue, My god the ...
In Benidorm there are melons, Whole donkey-carts full Of innumerable melons, Ovals and balls, Bright green and thumpable Laced over ...
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I ...
The woman is perfected Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in ...
Since Christmas they have lived with us, Guileless and clear, Oval soul-animals, Taking up half the space, Moving and rubbing ...
They are always with us, the thin people Meager of dimension as the gray people On a movie-screen. They Are ...
A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable! And how will your night dances Lose themselves. In mathematics? Such pure leaps ...
The hills step off into whiteness. People or stars Regard me sadly, I disappoint them. The train leaves a line ...
Old goatherds swear how all night long they hear The warning whirr and burring of the bird Who wakes with ...
For Leonard Baskin To his house the bodiless Come to barter endlessly Vision, wisdom, for bodies Palpable as his, and ...
I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it---- A sort of walking miracle, my skin ...
Clownlike, happiest on your hands, Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled, Gilled like a fish. A common-sense Thumbs-down on the ...
First, are you our sort of a person? Do you wear A glass eye, false teeth or a crutch, A ...
Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people. Where do the black trees go that drink here? Their shadows must ...
for Ruth Fainlight I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root; It is what ...
Bare-handed, I hand the combs. The man in white smiles, bare-handed, Our cheesecloth gauntlets neat and sweet, The throats of ...
From my rented attic with no earth To call my own except the air-motes, I malign the leaden perspective Of ...
With white frost gone And all green dreams not worth much, After a lean day's work Time comes round for ...
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted ...
Kindness glides about my house. Dame Kindness, she is so nice! The blue and red jewels of her rings smoke ...
The Sunday lamb cracks in its fat. The fat Sacrifices its opacity. . . . A window, holy gold. The ...
This is winter, this is night, small love -- A sort of black horsehair, A rough, dumb country stuff Steeled ...
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts. Nor the woman in the ambulance Whose red heart blooms through ...
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks, Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi. He is recuperating ...
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