Letter in November Poem by Sylvia Plath

Letter in November Poem by Sylvia Plath

Letter in November Poem by Sylvia Plath

 

Letter in November

Love, the world
Suddenly turns, turns color. The streetlight
Splits through the rat’s tail
Pods of the laburnum at nine in the morning.
It is the Arctic,

This little black
Circle, with its tawn silk grasses — babies hair.
There is a green in the air,
Soft, delectable.
It cushions me lovingly.

I am flushed and warm.
I think I may be enormous,
I am so stupidly happy,
My Wellingtons
Squelching and squelching through the beautiful red.

This is my property.
Two times a day
I pace it, sniffing
The barbarous holly with its viridian
Scallops, pure iron,

And the wall of the odd corpses.
I love them.
I love them like history.
The apples are golden,
Imagine it —

My seventy trees
Holding their gold-ruddy balls
In a thick gray death-soup,
Their million
Gold leaves metal and breathless.

O love, O celibate.
Nobody but me
Walks the waist high wet.
The irreplaceable
Golds bleed and deepen, the mouths of Thermopylae.
***

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By Candlelight Poem by Sylvia Plath

By Candlelight Poem by Sylvia Plath

By Candlelight Poem by Sylvia Plath

By Candlelight
This is winter, this is night, small love —
A sort of black horsehair,
A rough, dumb country stuff
Steeled with the sheen
Of what green stars can make it to our gate.
I hold you in my arm.
It is very late.
The dull bells tongue the hour.
The mirror floats us at one candle power.

This is the fluid in which we meet each other,
This haloey radiance that seems to breathe
And lets our shadows wither
Only to blow
Them huge again, violent giants on the wall.
One match scratch makes you real.
At first the candle will not bloom at all —
It snuffs its bud to almost nothing, to a dull blue dud.

I hold my breath until you creak to life,
Balled hedgehog,
Small and cross. The yellow knife
Grows tall. You clutch your bars.
My singing makes you roar.
I rock you like a boat
Across the Indian carpet, the cold floor,
While the brass man
Kneels, back bent as best he can

Hefting his white pillar with the light
That keeps the sky at bay,
The sack of black! It is everywhere, tight, tight!
He is all yours, the little brassy Atlas —
Poor heirloom, all you have
At his heels a pile of five brass cannonballs,
No child, no wife.
Five balls! Five bright brass balls!
To juggle with, my love when the sky falls.
***

Indeed Why Didn’t We Poem by Lyn Lifshin

Why Didn't We Poem

Why Didn't We Poem

“INDEED, WHY DIDN’T WE?”

There, like a tongue
any place you can
imagine it could go.
Before, e mails
were hotter than
Austin nights.
Electrical, I know
what burned could
scorch. You were safe
in paper. In reviews,
it’s an e mail
affair. They can’t
feel the flame of your
thigh after three
margaritas. Or that
I shook that my
body wasn’t
perfect enough. A
hunk others
gasped and of
course there were
the bare armed
young girls in their
summer dresses.
You write, “missing
in action love, and,
indeed, why
didn’t we?” and
this slick grey I slog
thru shines and
now, as if seven years
hadn’t dissolved.
I imagine the ache
in La Rosa bar,
drunk on lust or
wanting, that
longing for what
those thick musky
nights I haven’t
felt since

INDEED, WHY DIDN’T WE?   ©  Lyn Lifshin 2012

Lyn ‘s Website

 

Bio Notes

Lyn Lifshin has written more than 125 books and edited 4 anthologies of women writers. Her poems have appeared in most poetry and literary magazines in the U.S.A, and her work has been included in virtually every major anthology of recent writing by women. She has given more than 700 readings across the U.S.A. and has appeared at Dartmouth and Skidmore colleges, Cornell University, the Shakespeare Library, Whitney Museum, and Huntington Library.

If you enjoyed INDEED, WHY DIDN’T WE? you might visit Motherbird and read Lyn’s Dream Poem

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Blessing Unicorn Poem by Marilyn McIntyre

The Unicorn of a Blessing

Flying through myself softly

Sliding through even bone

I travelled to a forbidden land

Where one must wander alone

I knew the shape of a unicorn there

Standing blue, in the depths of a pool

A unicorn, blue, but smiling

Gently I traced the tear in his eye

Removing all need of his lieing.

He answered my touch

In sweet, gentled voice

And told of his lady so fair

Of being a two in a world of one

Where blessings had been so rare

He spoke of the sharing these two had done

In the time since then and before

And I knew of the love of this unicorn

Love, yet so much more.

Why is it then that you are alone

He shifted his head to the sky

Why echoed tremulously on his lips

And escaped from him in a sigh

I flew away home with a tear in my heart

Right next to then and before

And the unicorn lover forlorn and apart

Who waits for God and the passage of time

To bring his lady once more.

Now some call me fool, some view me wise

But I have been there and believe my own eyes

so have your own notions or view me with lies

Still I know the place where the unicorn

Stands alone in a pool and cries.

Copyright © 1998 by Marilyn McIntyre, All rights reserved

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