Sylvia Plath

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

Comments about Sylvia Plath

  • Yacov Mitchenko (5/30/2010 7:14:00 PM)

    I enjoy reading 'Event', 'Tulips', 'Contusion', 'I Am Vertical', 'Mystic', and 'Edge'. Aside from these poems, I can't say I much like Sylvia Plath's work.
    She is often melodramatic and hysterical. The latter may be understandable in light of what happened in her life, but it doesn't pan out successfully (or convincingly) in her poems. The restraint and understatements of Emily Dickinson, for example, work much better in the expression of pain.

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  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (7/11/2008 4:51:00 AM)

    gets the colour of life in its pure form.

  • James Papastamos (6/10/2008 7:07:00 PM)

    The story of Sylvia Plath just reinforces my deep-seated belief that 'where there is tragedy, there is art'. I have, as of yet, not once encountered a 'happy poet'. Poetry shall always remain a far superior form of literature, as opposed to the composition of fiction, non fiction, plays and scripts for movies. When I read a poem, I am gazing deep into the hidden chambers of the author's tortured soul - chambers that hide some mysterious secret, yearning to break free from the confines that civilization often imposes on humanity. Poetry comes from the heart. To understand poetry, one must be able to 'read between the lines'. When I read Sylvia Plath's poems, I not only read between the lines; I dive, head first, into its troubled waters - J. Papastamos

  • Danielle Stith (3/1/2008 5:26:00 AM)

    I wish other poetry lovers could actually spell things right.

    Sylvia Plath is amazing. I love the Poem 'Crossing the River'. It is beautiful, but it's not uncommon to find something that she has written to be beautiful.

    She may have not gotten treatment because of the fear that she could lose her poetic skills if she did. If this is the case, she may have died for her cause, which is incredible.

  • Keeep Smilie (2/28/2008 11:09:00 AM)

    Sylvia Plath

    Sylvia Plath is one of the great poets,
    she is just an febuleous poet
    ilove her poetry and my favourite poem is 'MORNING SONG'

  • Séamus Fox (1/31/2008 7:16:00 AM)

    My Literal lover

    For Sylvia Plath

    I think I have fallen
    for a dead poetess she
    is dark and fraught with
    bleeding flowers and
    Nazi symbolism and
    bags full of god and
    other equally striking
    metaphors for heaven.
    She was exquisite with
    language drawing sighs
    and laughter and tears
    but it is not about her
    story, which was tragic,
    it is her way on the page
    that blushes in my mind
    simple yet so complex.
    She enthuses me with her
    voice she speaks through me
    into the empty room simply
    knowing her words is not
    sufficient I must hear them.
    No living woman could give
    what she has left me with.
    Love in a literal sense is much
    much more fulfilling than all
    that over rated pushing and
    waiting for the phone to stop.

    1818/2218

  • Jocelynn Halbauer (10/29/2007 3:44:00 PM)

    Sylvia Plath is an exellent poet, but did anyone else notice that some of her poems are missing?
    e.g. Dirge For A Joker

  • ari anna arena (1/20/2007 2:39:00 AM)

    The heart can be a cruel teacher.

  • James Papastamos (11/21/2006 5:04:00 PM)

    Sylvia Plath wrote with anger and intensity. One doesn't even have to read between the lines to notice this. Where there is tragedy, there is art. Sylvia Path was a true, genuine lyric poet; and her poems reflect a truth, about as genuine, that poets are destined to suffer at the hands of fate - thepoetineye

  • Kellie Marie Sweeney (11/2/2006 1:42:00 PM)

    I really love syliva plath she is the reason i read poetry she reall got me into it, she led me to such poets as emily dickinson, evan boland and elizabeth bishop my favourite poem by syliva plath is poppies in july

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

Sheep In Fog

The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

The train leaves a line of breath.
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells -

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