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I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf’s big with its yeasty rising.
Money’s new-minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.
Sylvia Plath |
While trying to write something the other night, I suddenly remembered this poem and I am heavily obsessed……..This is exactly what I am feeling right now.Sylvia Plath wrote this poem when she was expecting her last child..No no..my case is not Pregnency ,not it of course..but It’s more like expecting something, conceiving something ..and feeling like boarded the train there’s no getting off…and exactly word by word what this poem says….. |
Feelings getting bit abstract?I Wish they get simplified!