Weeping

'The trouble about jumping was that if you didn't pick the right number of stories, you might still be alive when you hit bottom.' — Sylvia Plath

In scattered moonlight, stirred 

Thoughts reflect upon the black absence 

Within my soul. Like stardust sparkle 

Sublime sadness meets the smoke 

Of breath so cold, I sit, comforted 

By weeping arms 

Its branches do look sturdy though.

Wrap this unloose scarf more tight

Speak softly to this fine winters air 

And shudder as the heart piercing barb

Is wrenched, returned to Aphrodite's quiver

I bleed, and wet the frozen ground

A love, unreturned, shall never be found. 

Oh woe, I despair! What life is this?

I waste in idle existence, a weight in misery 

I ask of the ancient woodwork 

Can this bough carry my burden?

Sling and tie the knot fast

The inaction of my weary soul 

Shall swing in perpetual motion.

How ghastly such a sight would be 

I see yonder window, the light flicker 

And yearn that you will hear my cry 

In the hope that you might save me.     

Author's Note

Please do not take this too literally. I only express my deepest feelings and darkest of thoughts that currently reflect my mood. I care too much about the lives of my family and friends to pull off such a stunt.

I am also deterred by my cowardice.

I thank you sincerely if you are able to understand. If not, and if you happen to find my writing in tandem to this disclaimer to be somewhat superfluous, then I can only state that there is something I find incontrovertibly sublime, and cathartic about death.

As for the quote, I am a great admirer of Plath and how she has the ability, and is unhindered by the controversy of her received writing, to romanticise death and suicide. She beautifully illuminates with her words and language the dark, cavernous pits of depression. The quote epitomises her schizoid perspective of life and a perceived grotesque ambiguity of reality. Nonetheless, it is her reality in terms of her psychosis (Read Deborah S. Gentry's "The Art of Dying: Suicide in the works of Kate Chopin and Sylvia Plath").

Kindest Regards
James McFadyen

Reviews

[sereenaoutloud]

Wow this a strong , dark piece, that had me totally hooked from start to finish.
The imagery you create is haunting but fantastic.
"In hope that you might save me"
I wonder is everyone that toys with death secretly hopes this?

[Tom McRoberts]

There's something Gothic in your word choices, and I think that really works in your favour here. Inner turmoil becomes sublime spectacle, a performance of angst. I also like how the narrative voice personifies his surroundings. It's subtle, but it wonderful illustrates loneliness. I hope you didn't suffer too much in getting to the place to write this, keep up the good work!

[Kelly Scheppers]

She truly did flirt with suicide and the ambiguity of reality all throughout her life. I saw a 2003 movie named "Sylvia" that chronicled her life and depression, played brilliantly by Gwenyth Paltrow. It shook me to the core...I sat down and wrote my own interpretation of what happened. It's posted under "Sylvia Plath" if you're interested.

You are a remarkable writer, James. I loved your closing stanza the best, for I believe that in her last attempt at suicide, she perhaps thought someone would find her in time.

"I see yonder window, the light flicker
And yearn that you will hear my cry
In the hope that you might save me."

My best,
Kelly

[James McFadyen]

Thank you ever so much Kelly, to have someone who has vast knowledge and compassion for Sylvia Plath and her life-work, comment on my poem make me truly beholden to you. Thank you.

[Kelly Scheppers]

You are very welcomed, James!

[~]

:) like it! Vivid descriptions and deep imagery stirrings..

[willweb]

This was very deep and oh so sad. Thanks so much John for sending me the RR on this. James, this was great, I really enjoyed this today.

[Leslie Philibert]

A fine poem from a talented poet. You might like the book about suicide `The Savage God ` from the literarture critic Alan Alvarez ( who died, sadly, I believe, recently ) who knew Plath and Hughes well and comments brillantly about her death.What I like here is the modern content packed in to a frame that echoes Shelly or Keats ( Oh woe, what life is this ?) so you do very well here, fine job.

[Lyn Anderson]

A beautiful, dark, and sad piece. The best place for such feelings is paper or canvas. Good that you recognize it.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I for one was glad to read your disclaimer sir for you sit beneath the glowing sun of greatness should you choose to survive winter and unrequited 'love'. As you know I relate to such feelings and your writing as they mirror my own at times in my life. But today I cantered and such bliss even in the cold to sit behind the flowing mane as the horse bolts. Another sublime write James.