The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 1/28/09

[BlueIris]

"Spite—Homage to Sylvia Plath"

I stamped my feet and shook my fist and wept,
I wanted to be one of that glamorous sorority of the dead,
to feel the rib cage opened, the knocking of the heart let out,
I wanted to lie with the paperweight of the Bible on my chest;
I wanted the return, the rebirth, to be the root you fell over,
the curb of earth that made you stumble. I wanted to be the little
poisonous selves that grew up in your gardens, the henbane,
and belladonna, the lovely, misnamed hens-and-chickens;
I wanted revenge, to be the meek inheriting, beyond hurt and worry,
I wanted to come back as the vegetal, the spectacular amphibian welter
of the swamp, the pond, the marsh, the fen, to begin again and again,
I wanted to be all mind, no flesh, no thinking, all feeling, just IS
taking everything into its bog, its tar pit, into the locked box of unbeing.

—Lynn Emanuel

[BlueIris]

1. Kick.

[RedCloud]

2. A+ material

That spoke to me on so many levels.

[BlueIris]

4. Thank you! That's what I say. nt

[CaliforniaPeggy]

3. My dear BlueIris!

Oooh, nice!

I can really get into this one...something to really think about...

Thank you!

:hi:

[BlueIris]

5. Yeah, it can really get ahold of you. nt