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November 8th, 2009 - we have 234 poets, 8,023 poems and 17,880 comments.
Sylvia Plath - Cut

for Susan O'Neill Roe

What a thrill ----
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge

Of skin,
A flap like a hat,
Dead white.
Then that red plush.

Little pilgrim,
The Indian's axed your scalp.
Your turkey wattle
Carpet rolls

Straight from the heart.
I step on it,
Clutching my bottle
Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is.
Out of a gap
A million soldiers run,
Redcoats, every one.

Whose side are they one?
O my
Homunculus, I am ill.
I have taken a pill to kill

The thin
Papery feeling.
Saboteur,
Kamikaze man ----

The stain on your
Gauze Ku Klux Klan
Babushka
Darkens and tarnishes and when
The balled
Pulp of your heart
Confronts its small
Mill of silence

How you jump ----
Trepanned veteran,
Dirty girl,
Thumb stump.

Added: on March 10th, 2006 at 6:14 PM | Viewed: 20543 times | Comments and analysis of Cut by Sylvia Plath Comments (28)


Cut - Comments and Information

Poet: Sylvia Plath (Sylvia Plath Art)
Poem: Cut
Volume: The Collected Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1962

Comment 28 of 28, added on May 3rd, 2009 at 7:21 PM.

i have just reasently started cuting miself and so far i kant stop. only mi friends no and they dnt like it, but they are goin 2 have 2 get over it. they r drivin me crazy. they wont leave me along bot it. but i love mi cuts! i have 24 cuts and that is within 3-5 days.

cassidy from United States
Comment 27 of 28, added on April 3rd, 2008 at 1:03 AM.

I love how she turns a simple cut, something that everyone has done at one
at one point or another, and turned it into a metaphor of her life.i like this poem that she wrote.

katie from Mexico
Comment 26 of 28, added on March 10th, 2006 at 6:14 PM.

I love how she turns a simple cut, something that everyone has done at one at one point or another, and turned it into a metaphor of her life. She looks at her thumb so apathetically, as though it's just something else she expected, another blow. If Prozac is stopping people from writing more poetry like this, then I say we outlaw it. Sylvia Plath turned her depression into art, something everyone could learn from.

Nikola from United States

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