Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Poppies In July

Little poppies, little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?

You flicker. I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns

And it exhausts me to watch you
Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.

A mouth just bloodied.
Little bloody skirts!

There are fumes I cannot touch.
Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?

If I could bleed, or sleep!
If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
Dulling and stilling.

But colorless. Colorless.

Sylvia Plath

And the raging swirl of depression rages.


The Harbour of Ourselves said...

love sylvia plath, and just noticed you like elliot smith - what a tragedy that was - if you like hum try jeff Buckley's CD 'grace'

Abs said...

Oh yes, I'll second that!
Plath and Buckley are regulars in my little world...
Grace. My. God. What a CD.
It's mindblowing, truly. I just don't have words that could do it justice...

Niki said...

Paul you're right about Sylvia, of course, and yes - do you like Elliot Smith too? I actually ordered Grace today.
Now that's a risk of depression you don't hear about often...spending a week's wages in one day.
*hugs* Abs

mister tumnus said...

'litle bloody skirts'

she's so amazing, sylvia.

Stagestruckgal said...

yes, shes good. damned good. should be on the a-level eng lit syllabus, so many different things to pick up on there.

*hugs* Niki.