- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Depression Sonnet #3
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With battered hands which cling to sea-sprayed wood
A fractured mind, like sail, she cannot mend
A blank spirit, she felt she never could.
In blinding rain, she contemplates Plath's end.
She lies awake on drifting raft and wave
The sea, a dark green glass, like tinted pane,
A mirror to a mind that wants to cave
With mirthful howls, she ruminates the sane.
In an inky dark soul, her tempests blew
Inner demons drew lots to pick her pain
This raft, this empty sea, is all she knew.
Life's only light, her sempiternal strain
But even clouds above bring rays of hope
For with this surly storm, she knew she'd cope.
- COMMENTS
duddle146over 17 years agoKnowing nothing but a life of hardship ~ still confident of coping with come what may. Clouds can have a silver lining.
champagne1982over 17 years agoI agree, a lovely, melancholic poem.
I disagree with one of the poet's word choices, though.
Perhaps the notion that the light has a beginning is integral to the poet's vision but the use of such an obscure word as she chose, to indicate it, results in a 3 syllable fill-in that, for most readers, will simply be a meaningless adjective. In my opinion (for what little worth that is), I think "eternal" would serve as well.
Anonymousover 17 years agomelancholic. Haunting and touching, mentioned in today's new poem reviews
LeBrozover 17 years agoBeing ever the optimist,
I'll look to the ending to convince
That Sylvia's solution's not the choosen course.
