Me and Ms. Plath

Me and Ms. Plath baked a caked

until it was black and charred beyond all recognition

and the noxious fumes of our failed attempt

to nourish the master of thought

filled the room until the dreams started dropping like flies

covering everything with broken reasons we never cared for anyway

 

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Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

8 thoughts on “Me and Ms. Plath”

  1. I understand Sylvia on a couple of levels and as for her relationship with Ted is no mystery to me. Sylvia was to Ted what Dave was to me. Nuff said. Oh and what about OSCAR? Hmmm? πŸ˜‰

  2. See Bryan, I know my gay icons backward and forward. Elayne’s work is like a sunburn: all warm and sunny but later when her words sink it they hurt in the right places.

  3. My sister was named after Sylvia,
    Who also had a tough time of life….Man, has it been a year already since she left us without warning?

    Thanks V

    1. Within that year B, you have made quantum leaps inside yourself and if you think Sylvia hasn’t been meddling from over there to make it happen, think again amigo. πŸ˜‰ Much love and hugs to you good friend, it’s all in this farce called life.

      1. Aw shucks Bryan. Okay, I’m unmasked, it’s true, I want to mother the world, albeit cynically. The truth is, the world breaks my heart, every minute of everyday and because I come from my particular background and I’m so damn aware in my life, I see shit going on around me that most miss. I can be walking through Walmart and I’ll spot the kid who just got a crack in the head, or the woman who is afraid of the man who drinks to excuse his violence, or cashier who goes home to empty apartment and an even emptier fridge. Yep, it breaks my fucking heart alright and makes me cry. 😦

  4. I love the poetry of Sylvia Plath, as well as the conflicted story between her and Ted Hughes. So, I love what you’ve done with them in this figurative piece. The tags? Bravo! πŸ˜‰

    1. Both of these poems were a gift to me Tel, because I dreamed them in their entirety. I actually dreamed two more but I just couldn’t haul them up from the subconscious. I too love Plath, she affected me deeply in my youth, as both a teen and a female. I think the reason her work reached me is that I share her crash and burn sensibility toward creativity. Her poem Daddy, is nothing short of emotional genius.

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