Underneath a grim sky
Fluid with specks of dust
And the rapture of a fertile moon
I wonder will it always be thus?
*
My face pale and wane
My eyes dull and lifeless like a sharks
A mouth that speaks of trivial things
With a high timid voice
That understands nothing of words
*
The tender dialect of lovers
Will it ever move past my lips again?
Tiny shards of wisdom
That linger and endow me
With strange enchantments
Will I ever be inspired again?
=
My hands occupy my time with work
Daily I labor
For nothing in particular
Like a barren woman
Who tracks her ovulation
Even knowing she shall never bare any fruit
I am empty like that woman
And just as insatiable
=
Each night I fall into consecrated bliss
Yet even my dreams are ashen and uninspired
Silence gives me hope
With its ominous turnings
That both frighten and consume
*
This poem was Plath inspired and one of the only poems I’ve never edited. Though very old it remains curiously close to my heart. It is one of the only poems I have never hated.
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mindlovemisery 
Reblogged this on mindlovemisery and commented:
Old Poem
it’s beautiful and why would you hate any of your poems? they are like children.
Low self-esteem I think I feel quite insecure in myself
Oh if you only knew, the constant struggle with the esteem and we all become casualties. Sometimes I write poems and I just let them sit on my desktop waiting for a feeling about them before I edit and post. I’m still hoping I will write the perfect poem 🙂 You are an enchanted writer and your mind is full of so much vision. I truly enjoy reading your work.
I sleep on all my poems. Thank you so much Hector for your kindness and encouragements =) You are extremely talented!
Words of desire and of reflections, The ones that stay with us closest right? beautifully written..
Thanks Andy =)
🙂
Nothing is ever the same….everything is always changing….don’t get used to where you are…..or think what you see around you is real…reach for it, it recedes….changing. Even sorrow isn’t the same from one day to the the next. We create the life we live, it is our choice….how to see that this is true? You said that this is an old poem, I wonder, if you rewrote it today, what would it be?
It is a very old poem indeed and I do see things quite differently in many respects. I agree with you moods are like weather and life is ever changing as are we
Very beautiful!
Thank you so much =)
This is lovely Yves, and it’s interesting to see that you were inspired by Sylvia Plath. We study Birthday Letter by Ted Hughes a series published after his death in the 1990’s. His views on Sylvia are very pointed but still her legacy continues to inspire so many. I enjoyed this, thanks for sharing.
Thank you Michael The Bell Jar was the first real novel I ever read and it sparked my love for both reading and writing
This is such a lovely poem. I love your style of writing, always a source of inspiration and beauty.
Awww thanks Lisa you are such an inspiration to me =)
I can see why this is your favourite – I wouldn’t change it either. I am also a serial reviser!
On the subject of Plath – I’m writing an article about Self vs Traditional Publishing and came across this quote that a publisher made about Plath before she was published – “she doesn’t seem to have any genuine talent” – can you believe it?! It just goes to show, doesn’t it?
I hope you are well and the therapy is getting easier. Happy Thanksgiving xoxo
Some of my older work really needs it! Sylvia Plath is one of my favorite writers, she has tremendous talent but I suspect the editor might have been lacking. I am in Sweden now but sometimes we do a Thanksgiving anyways haha I love turkey. Thank you Bianca =)
We don’t celebrate thanksgiving here either 🙂
I like the idea of day of gratitude (shouldn’t that be everyday) and delicious food the real history behind Thanksgiving is just horrendous but I try to keep those positive aspects with me
I agree. We should give thanks everyday 🙂
I try to even on the days I am really really grumpy