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epictails Jun 2015
One flower slept soundly

in the ground

perhaps not wanting

to be found


I picked it up

for it looked quite

lonely



But then how funny

because

*
I was, too
epictails Jun 2015
Whatever did Sylvia Plath
and Anne Sexton
have in common?

—two great minds
of the literary canon
who drove themselves
to the proverbial crimson

One gassed herself
like a condemned Jew
the other stayed in her car
letting the breathlessness brew
A melody of the swans that
not even Beethoven
could undo

What could have been
in their poetry
that consumed them in
the deepest misery
—like one of a dark soliloquy
or a dying plea?
I've recently become interested in the life of Sylvia Plath. One person told me a poem of mine reminded him of Sylvia Plath's. When I looked her up I learned of her and several other poets ending their lives in the most miserable manner. In fact, I found a list of 100 plus great poets and writers who did it. Even Ernest Hemingway shot himself with his beloved shotgun, to my surprise. A considerable number of them were manic-depressives, sad to say.

Plath's main style of poetry is confessional poetry, some sort of subtype of lyric poetry, I guess. In fact, her and Anne Sexton (who also killed herself together with John Berryman) popularized the style. This is a far-fetched idea but I think their poetry is part of what made them commit suicide. Confessional poetry focuses on the poet's psyche, individuality and even their very own demons. They sure had some dark issues but couple that with writing that leaves anyone bare, open and vulnerable to personal pain and depression could very well drive some people to death. I just realized while reading their stories and even their accomplishments how writing could get very dark. It's such a risky career if not wedged in the right direction. I always thought it would all be rainbows and fields of daisies. But then it goes deeper than that.

And that concludes my little blog entry and research haha. To be honest, confessional poetry is my favorite and most of my poems are of that style. I believe it's so pure and raw but is also the most tasking to write.
epictails Jun 2015
Standing by myself
The memories of you hang like a ghost
Glasses of orange melting in our tired hands
The fact remains to freeze our eyes bare

Nibbling on burnt cookies as they buried
The invisible lumps down to the chests
Stale alcohol dancing in noses
Decks of cards gathered dust in the gambler's absence

Lipstick stains on the cold glass of your coffin
As the women withered and the men stiffened
I'd call you out but my voice went somewhere
Perhaps to the last scene that gave you away

How time catches and lets go
Them who hated you
Them who loved you
Bewildered in the kitchen
You are the refuge to seek
Though you are no more
to my lolo leon **
epictails Jun 2015
There is no belief
far more
dangerous
than
the belief
that all hope
is gone
epictails Jun 2015
?
Days when you don't even know what you could have
possibly done to deserve such good people in your life
i must have saved lives in the past to have friends like these
epictails Jun 2015
She
jumps
from
one book
to another
casting
their very
last pages
in her
drifting
world

...

She
pens
untitled
poems
with no
full
stops

...

She goes
from
places to places
searching
in her heart
something
beautiful
that will
never
end
i really can't finish what i start
epictails Jun 2015
You are the sun
of the deep night

truly the brightest
of the bright

whatever comes,
keep spreading
your warm light



*This is for my roommate who had been like my sister for the past two years and counting.Thank you for always believing in me.
Project Friendship. ** my first of the series. I'm truly grateful for all the friends who have sparked me with their wonderful friendship. This is actually the hardest to do and idk why but at least I tried haha
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