Monday, October 26, 2009

We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.

Isn't it fantastic how Sylvia Plath was completely bat shit nuts and completely genius, all at the same time?

I mean, come on.

From "Lesbos":
I should sit on a rock off Cornwall and comb my hair.
I should wear tiger pants, I should have an affair.
We should meet in another life, we should meet in air,
Me and you
Meanwhile there’s a stink of fat and baby crap.
I’m doped and thick from my last sleeping pill.
The smog of cooking, the smog of hell
Floats our heads, two venemous opposites,
Our bones, our hair.
I call you Orphan, orphan. You are ill.
The sun gives you ulcers, the wind gives you T.B.
Once you were beautiful.
In New York, in Hollywood, the men said: 'Through?
Gee baby, you are rare.'
You acted, acted for the thrill.
The impotent husband slumps out for a coffee.
I try to keep him in,
An old pole for the lightning,
The acid baths, the skyfuls off of you.
He lumps it down the plastic cobbled hill,
Flogged trolley. The sparks are blue.
The blue sparks spill,
Splitting like quartz into a million bits.
I get it, I don't get it, I suddenly feel like my day is going much better than it first seemed. Seriously. Read the rest of that poem and you'll know what I mean. Even if you don't know what the eff she's really talking about, the utter craziness/loveliness of it is comforting.

Or, maybe that's just me. I think I need to quit blogging when I'm tired. 

"Gee baby, you are rare."


  1. I adore Sylvia. I haven't read a lot of her but what I have read, I love. She was pretty crazy but totally amazing. She had this soul that just gave it to you straight. I wish I could channel her in my writing...that would be sweeeeeeet. : )

  2. This one's from Ariel. Pretty amazing collection.

    But I probably shouldn't read it on rainy Monday mornings.

  3. This one's always been my favorite:

    for whatever it's worth, I'd lean more toward the "genius" and less toward the "batshit nuts" in re: S.P.

    but I'm no pharmacist, so it ain't worth much, probably.

  4. settle down, C. You know how much I heart Sylvia. I just like to say "batshit nuts" as often as possible.

    And she DID put her head in an oven. I'm just sayin'.

  5. One shouldn't judge one by what one does in the worst of times. Or should one? One never knows.

  6. quit making me sound like an asshole on my blog! clearly I can do that on my own!

  7. I love Sylvia. I have a compilation of her journals throughout her life (which I felt slightly weird about buying..I mean, it was her personal journal)..but it is definitely really interesting. Do you want to borrow it?

    I attempted to write a song using "Mad Girl's Love Song" is one of my faves. I love that poem.

  8. (wasn't my intention at all, al! sorry)