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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: MSB who wrote (1316)	2/22/1998 2:09:00 AM
From: Carol	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 2095

Most of Sylvia Plath's poems were about suicide, not a very noble subject, as far as I'm concerned. But, she was an excellent poet, too bad she didn't see the joy in life more. But, maybe, without her preoccupation with dying, she would not have written any poetry at all. After all, more times than not our inspirations are born out of dispair rather than joy. A sad commentary on human life. Good night, Mike Carol

To: MSB who wrote (1316)	2/22/1998 12:01:00 PM
From: Carol	Respond to of 2095

Mike, I'm still not sure if I like her poems, but they are very clever. Have you read Lady Lazarus yet? Paralytic It happens. Will it go on?- My mind a rock, No fingers to grip, no tongue, My god the iron lung That loves me, pumps My two Dust bags in and out, Will not Let me relapse While the day outside glides by like ticker tape. The night brings violets, Tapestries of eyes, Lights, The soft anonymous Talkers: "You all right?" The starched, inaccessible breast. Dead egg, I lie Whole On a whole world I cannot touch, At the white, tight Drum of my sleeping couch Photographs visit me- My wife, dead and flat, in 1920 furs, Mouth full of pearls, Two girls As flat as she, who whisper "We're your daughters." The still waters Wrap my lips, Eyes, nose and ears, A clear Cellophane I cannot crack. On my bare back I smile, a buddha, all Wants, desire Falling from me like rings Hugging their lights. The claw Of the magnolia, Drunk on its own scents, Asks nothing of life. Sylvia Plath