Metaphor Poem by David Wood
Metaphor
She was a riddle in four syllables.
She had two names,
The other, Victoria Lucas.
She was a red fruit met with indifference.
She was new money minted in a big fat purse.
A tired rose given too many chemicals.
She was a winter that was not kind to her.
The sleeping pills became her epitaph.
The oven was the end.
Every line a metaphor building a netaphor. Thats a rare skill i d kill to have. Great work.
Nice tribute to Sylvia Plath. Few days back I saw her movie on Amazon Prime, Love returned with a tragic death. Nice poem David.
Marvellous Metaphor David. Sylvia Plath is one of my favourite poets. Her untimely death has ever remained a mystery.
I KNEW this poem is about SP as soon as I read the word METAPHOR, SP was with me during my study at the university. Tragic end. Tragic poem
I know her poem refers to her pregnancy, does it matter, I am remembering they day she died? ? ? ? ?
Additiob: Metaphor by David Wood, Metaphors by Sylvia Plath: regarding her pregnant status
Part 4: It does not astonish me to read how David's heart empathises with the great poet.
Thank you Unnikrishnan for your lovely comments. SP is one of my favourite poets and I am always reminded of her sad end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 6:11:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
You are a great poet but you can't understand my pain.. By the way this is a wonderful poem.