Category Archives: Sylvia Plath

Blackberrying, Sylvia Plath

Posted on 16 August 2020 by xineann

Blackberrying Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a seaSomewhere at the end of it, heaving. BlackberriesBig as the ball of my thumb, … Continue reading →

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Sylvia Plath: On The Difficulty Of Conjuring Up A Dryad

Posted on 8 January 2015 by xineann

Ravening through the persistent bric-à-brac Of blunt pencils, rose-sprigged coffee cup, Postage stamps, stacked books’ clamor and yawp, Neighborhood cockcrow—all nature’s prodigal backtalk, The vaunting mind Snubs impromptu spiels of wind And wrestles to impose Its own order on what … Continue reading →

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Doomsday, Sylvia Plath

Posted on 28 April 2010 by xineann

Doomsday The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans Atop the broken universal clock: The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens. Our painted stages fall apart by scenes While all the actors halt in mortal shock: The idiot bird leaps … Continue reading →

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