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 Sep 2015 Manu M
SøułSurvivør
-

i
write
my
memoir
in
glue
and
gold
glitter

you
glint
in
the
s­un
a
speck
in
God's
eye



soulsurvivor
(C) 9/17/2015
For all my sisters

-
 Sep 2015 Manu M
Mike Hauser
Who will sit with me
Will you sit with me
Listen to the tales I tell
Of a desperate life in need

Who will hold my hand
Will you hold my hand
Without any pretence
And even less demand

Who will sympathize
Will you sympathize
When you finally see the real me
Reflected in my eyes

Who will wipe my tears
Will you wipe my tears
Save them in a mason jar
For use in later years

Who will be the one
Will you be the one
To help save me from myself
And all I have become
 Jun 2015 Manu M
Eiliv Advena
Yavanna Kementari
The giver of fruits
The mother of trees
The mother of roots

Creator of Laurelin
and Telperions light
The light of the trees
Put an end to the night

She created the moon
She created the sun
With a flower, a fruit
And with light it was done

She is our lady, tall and green
She is our mother
Our beautiful queen
 Jun 2015 Manu M
epictails
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.
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