A Poem for Sylvia Plath

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Sylvia Plath (1957) - October 27, 1932 - February 11, 1963

“Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted.”

 You could have lived you know…

You would have been only 79 today

You could have continued to grow

We would still cry, illuminated away…

…by your verses and your gaze

But alas, that was not to be your destiny

Our metropolis is a grave of the phrase

Our time is dead hands working dead stringency

Your age, had you achieved it

Would have been a sexy prime

Look at you, on that photo, doesn’t it fit?

Instead of keeping you, into our time

We gave you to the White mist

At the tender age of 30, so short, it explodes

Like the image of your perfect lips

Or the knives of your words, antipodes

Of power and playfulness

Destruction and redemption

You are the retribution of man’s maleness

And the guilt of male assumption

Before we all fell like Icarus

From the sky, the sky you soared

It is your voice we heard, give us then a truce

Give us a few spaces in your sky, or a sword

To fall on and feel your pain

Your beauty and your effervescence

If you had only lived till today, your age…

…would be the color of gold

Like your voice rendered in your words of rage

Like your poetry, straight from a heart so bold.

 

October 27, 2011

2 Comments
  1. Nancy Denofio says

    Thanks so much for this work that echos words directly from the heart. How true, words do make a difference when shared with others – whomever it was, was beautiful and suffered young, and visions reappear – in words. Thank you again, for sharing a piece of your heart. Sincerely, Nancy

  2. konradtademar says

    I am glad you liked Nancy. Sylvia Plath was a wonderful poetess – and I adore her works.

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