Jan 2016
I just heard we have lost you
As always it is us that are left here
that now feel the loss.
Your pain is over now
rest sweetly my dear friend.
Lie silent away from the chasing
demons that followed you in this life
hiding behind every sad thought
and lonely moment
I of all people saw you bravely fight the war
thinking again and again you had won.
But alas it was only a battle.
I shall always miss your sweetness
and the kindness that lay in your soul.
People never understood your agony
When will they learn
to hate the illness not the person?
Under the scared and wounded soul
that I have seen so vulnerable
I alone know the truth of you.
This world was never a place
for one as beautiful as you
As always it is us that are left here
that now feel the loss.
Your pain is over now
rest sweetly my dear friend.
Lie silent away from the chasing
demons that followed you in this life
hiding behind every sad thought
and lonely moment
I of all people saw you bravely fight the war
thinking again and again you had won.
But alas it was only a battle.
I shall always miss your sweetness
and the kindness that lay in your soul.
People never understood your agony
When will they learn
to hate the illness not the person?
Under the scared and wounded soul
that I have seen so vulnerable
I alone know the truth of you.
This world was never a place
for one as beautiful as you
With Respect to a Great Poet
Ms. Sylvia Plath
Oct 27th 1032-February 11th 1963
Sylvia with her head in the oven like a baked potato
is a line in a Bukowski poem referencing the hopeless plight of the mental state of talented people
This is how Ms Sylvia Plath died in a London flat her third and final attempt at suicide after a life of Depression and mental challenge even receiving the horrific shock treatment of the time. I think the line in bad taste and flippant anyway a baked potato would require the require the oven to be lit.
Ms. Sylvia Plath
Oct 27th 1032-February 11th 1963
Sylvia with her head in the oven like a baked potato
is a line in a Bukowski poem referencing the hopeless plight of the mental state of talented people
This is how Ms Sylvia Plath died in a London flat her third and final attempt at suicide after a life of Depression and mental challenge even receiving the horrific shock treatment of the time. I think the line in bad taste and flippant anyway a baked potato would require the require the oven to be lit.
