Creative . By Mitch Hamburger, Kate Barlock, and Laura Eckman. Early Life. Born October 27, 1932 Father died when she was eight Went to Smith College on scholarship Top of her high school and college class. Later life. Married Ted Hughes and had two children
ByMitch Hamburger, Kate Barlock, and Laura Eckman
Married Ted Hughes and had two children
Ted and Sylvia were separated
Plath committed suicide shortly after
Placed her head in a kitchen oven with the gas turned on
Died of Carbon Monoxide poisoning at age thirty with her children sleeping in the other room
He won't be got rid of:Memblepaws, teary and sorry,Fido Littlesoul, the bowel's unfamiliar.
A dustbin's enough for him.The dark's his bone.Call him any name, he'll come to it.
Mud-sump, happy sty face.I've married a cupboard of rubbish.I bed in a fish puddle.Down here the sky is always falling.Hogwallow's at the window.The star bugs won't save me this mouth.I housekeep in Time's gut-end
Among emmets and mollusks,Duchess of Nothing,Hairtusk's bride.
He was the bullmanearliermKing of the dish, my lucky animal.Breathing was easy in his airy holding.The sun sat in his armpit.Nothing went moldy. The little invisiblesWaited on him hand and foot.The blue sisters sent me to another school.Monkey lived under the dunce cap.He kept blowing me kisses.I hardly knew him.
Pure? What does it mean?
The tongues of hell
Are dull, dull as the triple
Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus
Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable
Of licking clean
The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin.
The tinder cries.
The indelible smell
Of a snuffed candle!
Love, love, the low smokes roll
From me like Isadora's scarves, I'm in a fright
One scarf will catch and anchor in the wheel.
Such yellow sullen smokes
Make their own element. They will not rise,
But trundle round the globe
Choking the aged and the meek,
Hothouse baby in its crib,
The ghastly orchid
Hanging its hanging garden in the air,
Radiation turned it white
And killed it in an hour.
Greasing the bodies of adulterers
Like Hiroshima ash and eating in.
The sin. The sin.
Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.
The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss.
Three days. Three nights.
Lemon water, chicken
Water, water make me retch.
I am too pure for you or anyone.
Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern ----
My head a moon
Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin
Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive.
Does not my heat astound you. And my light.
All by myself I am a huge camellia
Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush.
I think I am going up,
I think I may rise ----
The beads of hot metal fly, and I, love, I
Am a pure acetylene
Attended by roses,
By kisses, by cherubim,
By whatever these pink things mean.
Not you, nor him.
Not him, nor him
(My selves dissolving, old whore petticoats) ----