Sylvia Plath

(October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963 / Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts)

Sylvia Plath Poems

If you see a poem only with title, it is listed that way because of copyright reasons.
161. Stars Over The Dordogne 9/19/2014
162. Stillborn 1/3/2003
163. Stings 1/3/2003
164. Stopped Dead 9/19/2014
165. Strumpet Song 1/3/2003
166. Suicide Off Egg Rock 9/19/2014
167. Tale Of A Tub 1/3/2003
168. Terminal 9/17/2014
169. Thalidomide 9/19/2014
170. The Applicant 1/3/2003
171. The Arrival Of The Bee Box 1/3/2003
172. The Babysitters 9/17/2014
173. The Beast 9/19/2014
174. The Bee Meeting 1/3/2003
175. The Beekeeper's Daughter 9/17/2014
176. The Bull Of Bendylaw 1/3/2003
177. The Burnt-Out Spa 9/19/2014
178. The Colossus 1/3/2003
179. The Companionable Ills 9/19/2014
180. The Courage Of Shutting-Up 9/19/2014
181. The Couriers 1/3/2003
182. The Dead 1/1/2004
183. The Death Of Myth-Making 9/19/2014
184. The Detective 9/19/2014
185. The Disquieting Muses 1/3/2003
186. The Everlasting Monday 9/17/2014
187. The Eye-Mote 1/3/2003
188. The Fearful 9/19/2014
189. The Ghost's Leavetaking 9/19/2014
190. The Glutton 9/19/2014
191. The Goring 9/17/2014
192. The Great Carbuncle 9/19/2014
193. The Hanging Man 9/17/2014
194. The Hermit At Outermost House 9/17/2014
195. The Jailer 9/19/2014
196. The Lady And The Earthenware Head 9/19/2014
197. The Manor Garden 9/19/2014
198. The Manor Garden 12/22/2003
199. The Moon And The Yew Tree 1/3/2003
200. The Munich Mannequins 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Sylvia Plath

Cinderella

The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,
Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan
Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels
Begin on tilted violins to span

The whole revolving tall glass palace hall
Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;
Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall
Reflecting in a million flagons' shine,

And glided couples all in whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun long since,
Until near twelve the strange girl all at once
Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince

As amid the hectic music and cocktail ...

Read the full of Cinderella

Jilted

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

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