#slvia plath

[butterflies-behind-her-skull]

I decided I would watch her and listen to what she said, but deep down, I would have nothing at all to do with her.

The Bell Jar -- Sylvia Plath

[oguzata]

Sylvia Plath feeding a deer, Algonquin Provincial Park, Ontario, Canada, July 1959.

[yalnzmavii]

"Bir fırtına kuşunu sevmeliydim seveceğime seni; Hiç değilse baharda göğü şenlendirir gelirdi…

[hob-golbin]

My girl, Silvia

[memoriesoftheresa]

I Am Vertical

I Am Vertical

 But I would rather be horizontal.

I am not a tree with my root in the soil

Sucking up minerals and motherly love

So that each March I may gleam a new leaf,

Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed

Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,

Unknowing I must soon unpetal.

Compared with me, a tree is immortal

And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,

And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

  Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,

The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.

I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.

Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping

I must most perfectly resemble them --

Thoughts gone dim.

It is more natural to me, lying down.

Then the sky and I are in open conversation,

And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:

Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath was a poet and author. She died on February 11, 1963 at 30 years old.

Theresa posted this Plath poem on Wit of the Staircase, June 28, 2007. 

Picture of the garden in Royal Oak 2012. Amazingly, I too am still vertical.