Posts tagged sylvia plath.
— Sylvia Plath (via incorrectsylviaplathquotes)
Sylvia Plath, “Elm”
I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root;
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.
Is it the sea you hear in me,
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.
All night I shall gallup thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, the big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin white, like arsenic.
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand,a hand of wires.
Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radience scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
I let her go. I let her go
Diminshed and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrevables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches?—
Its snaky acids kiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.
(submitted by pokemonthemesong)
— Tori Amos (via fuckyeahfeministartandliterature)
I could read her poems, journals and books all day everyday (which I do often). There’s something very comforting in discovering what could be your own diary, written in a much more beautiful way than you could ever express it.
— The Unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath (via justhappymymanicand-i)
— Sylvia Plath (The Bell Jar)
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via sylvpla)
“I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is” - Sylvia Plath