Monday, March 03, 2008
Not that anyone asked...
But the photo in the previous post is of Sylvia Plath, an American poet who took her own life at age 30 in 1963, ten days before I was born. Her poetry was excellent-- troubling, but brilliant and evocative. Here is one:
The Narcissi
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks,
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He is recuperating from something on the lung.
The narcissi, too, are bowing to some big thing :
It rattles their stars on the green hill where Percy
Nurses the hardship of his stitches, and walks and walks.
There is a dignity to this; there is a formality-
The flowers vivid as bandages, and the man mending.
They bow and stand : they suffer such attacks!
And the octogenarian loves the little flocks.
He is quite blue; the terrible wind tries his breathing.
The narcissi look up like children, quickly and whitely.
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Have you ever seen that movie Sylvia with Gwyneth Paltrow? It was so very very sad!!!!! She had a really sad life.
I taught a few of her poems last year for the first time, to 12th graders, and they were overwhelmed.
Anon 5:02 . . . don't get me started, buddy. She did have a sad life.
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Anon 5:02 . . . don't get me started, buddy. She did have a sad life.
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