Friday, October 27, 2006

Wordcandy loves Sylvia Plath's poetry

It's been a long time since we've done one of these, but today is Sylvia Plath's birthday (and, let's face it, a lot of her stuff is very Halloween-appropriate), so I think it's time:

Terminal

Riding home from credulous blue domes,
the dreamer reins his waking appetite
in panic at the crop of catacombs
sprung up like plague of toadstools overnight:
refectories where he reveled have become
the holstery of worms, rapacious blades
who weave within the skeleton's white womb
a caviare decay of rich brocades.

Turning the tables of this grave gourmet,
the fiendish butler saunters in and serves
for feast the sweetest meat of hell's chef d' uvres:
his own pale bride upon a flaming tray:
parsleyed with elegies, she lies in state
waiting for his grace to consecrate.

©Sylvia Plath

Labels: ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home




Have a piece of book-related news? Send it our way!
Links

wordcandy.net

wordcandy.net Bookcrossing bookshelf

Girl Detective

Mysterious Mysteries

A Study in Sherlock

OldCookbooks.com

sfsignal

MangaBlog

Austen Blog


Previous Posts

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

They're coming...

About as weird as you'd expect.

Match Me if You Can

Guilty Pleasures

Save the date?

e-book news

More Diana Wynne Jones!

Have the coolest kitchen on your street.

Two things.


Archives



Powered by Blogger