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.
1. The Princess And The Goblins 12/28/2015
2. In Midas' Country 9/19/2014
3. The Net-Menders 9/19/2014
4. On Deck 9/19/2014
5. Terminal 9/17/2014
6. Whitsun 9/19/2014
7. Pheasant 9/17/2014
8. Blue Moles 9/17/2014
9. The Glutton 9/19/2014
10. The Shrike 9/19/2014
11. Rhyme 9/17/2014
12. Yaddo : The Grand Manor 9/19/2014
13. New Year On Dartmoor 9/19/2014
14. Bluebeard 9/17/2014
15. Ode For Ted 9/19/2014
16. Battle-Scene From The Comic Operatic Fantasy The Seafarer 9/19/2014
17. Thalidomide 9/19/2014
18. Finisterre 9/17/2014
19. Alicante Lullaby 9/17/2014
20. Denouement Villanelle 9/19/2014
21. Doom Of Exiles 9/17/2014
22. The Beast 9/19/2014
23. Fable Of The Rhododendron Stealers 9/19/2014
24. The Ravaged Face 9/19/2014
25. April Aubade 9/17/2014
26. Event 9/17/2014
27. The Great Carbuncle 9/19/2014
28. The Lady And The Earthenware Head 9/19/2014
29. To Eva Descending The Stair 9/17/2014
30. Frog Autumn 3/6/2015
31. Green Rock, Winthrop Bay 9/19/2014
32. The Everlasting Monday 9/17/2014
33. Incommunicado 9/19/2014
34. The Fearful 9/19/2014
35. Hardcastle Crags 9/17/2014
36. Channel Crossing 9/19/2014
37. Point Shirley 9/19/2014
38. The Goring 9/17/2014
39. The Burnt-Out Spa 9/19/2014
40. Natural History 9/19/2014

Comments about Sylvia Plath

  • Ronaldo (11/27/2017 5:04:00 PM)

    the poets are really beast

    0 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Samantha Belk (11/16/2017 7:10:00 PM)

    It is my deepest conquest to understand the hidden link of such sorrow and solitude of Sylvia. I do believe she was suffering from such deep noted depression and acute social anxiety disorder. It is very clear that she was delusional and repressed. I will forever be touched by her poetry, I can relate with her emotional turmoil and inner burning hardship of emotions.

  • Doug Lewis (5/9/2017 6:15:00 PM)

    I am in love with a dead poet. Sylvia Plath's search for the perfect line involved sacrifice.
    She would have found that perfect line in her last few breaths. What a shame we never heard it.

  • MIKE TOPN B (9/11/2016 3:48:00 PM)

    Nice

  • Olorundare Tiwatope (4/27/2016 6:59:00 AM)

    A lady I love her works

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (1/18/2016 8:51:00 AM)

    '' The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence. I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for the good it did me. ''
    [from 'The Bell Jar' (1963) ]

  • John Hardesty (5/20/2015 8:56:00 AM)

    Here we travel upon an old path,
    meditating on the poet, Sylvia Plath;
    A complicated lady, and driven poet,
    who's madness, and melancholy, for whom would never show it;
    Yet, like all poets, and writers,
    She became obsessed with something more mightier,
    For death, is never at limits to the truth,
    beckons the old, and brimming youth;
    Poets take up an oath and pen,
    dole out their wrenching soul until the end,
    as prose and poetry their only companions, and pain,
    for she engendered the recurrence of something that couldn't remain,
    whilst the gilded rose from Jamaica Plain,
    lives on through the pages of her God forsaken domain. _ John Hardesty

  • Gigi Levin Gigi Levin (9/16/2014 10:52:00 AM)

    Suze Collette, I cant click on them either. This is b/c if they provide the text, PoemHunter could face copyright issues. It pissed me off too.

  • D.l. Aceves D.l. Aceves (4/25/2014 9:41:00 AM)

    A nice reading on YouTube of Plath's poem 'Mad Girl's Love Song' here: https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=twIfwSvL9Uo

  • Cal Shummon (12/4/2013 12:06:00 PM)

    Beyond Humanity's Vision

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

Balloons

Since Christmas they have lived with us,
Guileless and clear,
Oval soul-animals,
Taking up half the space,
Moving and rubbing on the silk

Invisible air drifts,
Giving a shriek and pop
When attacked, then scooting to rest, barely trembling.

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