Sylvia Plath

Short post today.

Here is a collection of her poems, from which I copied Dark House below. I have this on the back of my lesson plan book, and was reading it today at work. It used to be that I didn’t think much of Sylvia Plath, but in recent years she has grown on me. “I made it myself.”

Dark House

This is a dark house, very big.
I made it myself,
Cell by cell from a quiet corner,
Chewing at the grey paper,
Oozing the glue drops,
Whistling, wiggling my ears,
Thinking of something else.

It has so many cellars,
Such eelish delvings!
U an round as an owl,
I see by my own light.
Any day I may litter puppies
Or mother a horse. My belly moves.
I must make more maps.

These marrowy tunnels!
Moley-handed, I eat my way.
All-mouth licks up the bushes
And the pots of meat.
He lives in an old well,
A stoney hole. He’s to blame.
He’s a fat sort.

Pebble smells, turnipy chambers.
Small nostrils are breathing.
Little humble loves!
Footlings, boneless as noses,
It is warm and tolerable
In the bowel of the root.
Here’s a cuddly mother.

Sylvia Plath



  1. Renee Said:

    Oh my it has been a long time since I took a peek at your blog! Too too busy! Sylvia Plath strikes me as a bit disturbed with her poem, kinda like the younger sister in the novel “We have always lived in the Castle”. It was really nice to hear Carly Simon again as I was one of her biggest fans in the 70’s. Don’t worry about the worms getting out of the can. They probably need the air and some new dirt anyway!

    • kirinjirafa Said:

      I should talk about that book some time! Wow! I read it with hubby about a year ago and haven’t thougt much of it since. It was a good book…

      And yeah, isn’t it just a nice thing to listen to Carly Simon?

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