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.
41. Natural History 9/19/2014
42. Terminal 9/17/2014
43. Brasilia 9/19/2014
44. Whitsun 9/19/2014
45. Crossing The River 1/3/2003
46. The Other Two 1/3/2003
47. The Thin People 1/3/2003
48. The Night Dances 1/3/2003
49. Purdah 1/3/2003
50. Poems, Potatoes 1/3/2003
51. Nick And The Candlestick 1/3/2003
52. Poppies In October 1/3/2003
53. Event 9/17/2014
54. Yadwigha, On A Red Couch, Among Lillies 9/17/2014
55. The Great Carbuncle 9/19/2014
56. Magnolia Shoals 9/19/2014
57. Notes To A Neophyte 9/19/2014
58. Blue Moles 9/17/2014
59. Pheasant 9/17/2014
60. The Glutton 9/19/2014
61. The Companionable Ills 9/19/2014
62. The Times Are Tidy 9/19/2014
63. The Shrike 9/19/2014
64. Letter To A Purist 9/19/2014
65. The Detective 9/19/2014
66. 'Célibataire' 9/19/2014
67. Faun 1/3/2003
68. April 18 1/3/2003
69. The Disquieting Muses 1/3/2003
70. The Queen's Complaint 1/3/2003
71. The Couriers 1/3/2003
72. Full Fathom Five 1/3/2003
73. Never Try To Trick Me With A Kiss 1/3/2003
74. Gigolo 1/3/2003
75. Berck-Plage 1/3/2003
76. Mystic 1/3/2003
77. Crossing The Water 1/13/2003
78. Perseus 1/3/2003
79. Lesbos 1/3/2003
80. Resolve 1/3/2003

Comments about Sylvia Plath

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


    10 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • 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 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: // v=twIfwSvL9Uo

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

    Beyond Humanity's Vision

  • Rachel Gaddi (6/21/2013 2:37:00 PM)

    Hello my Dear
    Compliments of the day to you.I am Rachel, how are you, hope you are fine and in
    perfect condition of health.I went through your profile today and i read it and took interest in it, if you don't mind i will like to know you much better, although i came online to look for a true and loving man that is ready for a true, honest and loving relationship and will be able to take good care of me if you are the kind of man am talking about then send me a mail now on my private email ( included, so that i will tell you all about myself and a picture of myself.looking forward to hear from you, thanks and God bless.(rachell.4likeat hotmail dot com)
    Thanks waiting to hear from you.

  • Sandy Player Sandy Player (3/5/2013 3:14:00 PM)

    Here we sit at our desks; I'm sure Plath would have descibed us as having a bowl of peanuts beside us.

  • Thilakan Eis (12/20/2012 6:43:00 AM)

    she is very popular poet 68752

Best Poem of Sylvia Plath


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


The Triumph of Wit Over Suffering

Head alone shows you in the prodigious act
Of digesting what centuries alone digest:
The mammoth, lumbering statuary of sorrow,
Indissoluble enough to riddle the guts
Of a whale with holes and holes, and bleed him white
Into salt seas. Hercules had a simple time,
Rinsing those stables: a baby's tears would do it.

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