The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 11/5/07 Bonus

"Morning Song"

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

—Sylvia Plath

I think parts of this are inspired, but the whole doesn't do it for me. It seems like it was fit together from pieces that don't mesh. :shrug:

NYU would FLOVE to have you.

:shrug:

I think I would love to take classes again if I could. But life does not cooperate. :P

It's a moral imperitive. This much critical talent CANNOT go to waste.

Despite another's comment, I think every word in that is perfect. Maybe it's just me, or the impact of Plath ON me, but I don't think she's appreciated today the way she will be in the future. Yeah, she had her fame thing, briefly, in life, and became a cliche in death (not her fault), and she died far too young, obviously. Too many echoes of the real-life drama still abound now. But later? Her work is goddamn timeless.