The Edge ~ Sylvia Plath

The woman is perfected.
Her dead
Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity
Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.
Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little
Pitcher of milk, now empty.
She has folded
Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden
Stiffens and odours bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.
The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.
She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.

Category:

People & Blogs

Tags:

• edge
• sylvia
• plath

[xGoddessxWitchx]

Nice poem; holy crap you're a great poetry reader!

~)O( Blessed Be )O(~

[FinalTaboo]

@xGoddessxWitchx :) Thank you so much.

[posypity]

i think Sylvia's death meant she was perfected, and her final flourish

of poems accomplished all. it was an apt poem to finish on. recently

i was passing a church and there was this blinding light coming down

from above. when i looked up to see the sun was shining thru the cloud

in the shape of an oxbow. i really felt that Sylvia was smiling down on me.

[FinalTaboo]

@posypity :)

[IraqIsWhack]

Great poem by Sylvia and great reading! Good Job

[FinalTaboo]

@IraqIsWhack Thank you

[FinalTaboo]

@DavidRandallCurtis Thanks David, that means a lot coming from you. :)

[DavidRandallCurtis]

Revisiting this again. Since I first saw it your version has grown on me even more. Perfect delivery for this. Going to put it in my faves :P

[FinalTaboo]

@DavidRandallCurtis Ahhh lol

[DavidRandallCurtis]

@FinalTaboo Actually, I just finished a bio of Ms. Plath called "Method and Madness" so she has been on my mind a lot. Most people think that this or "Balloons" was her last poem... I just was just checking to see if there were any videos of it when I saw this one and thought, "I know her! Now that is a right bird!" :P