Comment 6 of 16, added on June 7th, 2009 at 12:15 AM.
my first impressions of this poem were that she wanted love and she
couldn't find it hence being so depressed. I thought also she was full or
is full of self-pity.
I find interesting that Sylvia or the persona, associates sweetness with
love and it's opposite meanings to it's discomfort.
Comment 5 of 16, added on September 20th, 2008 at 11:53 PM.
I was researching this poem, I came upon it hoping to find an analysis of
text, and instead I found a bitter response to a boasting comment.
And yes, you are boasting. All you said was "I've written better" and you
provided no evidence as to why you think that way although you've given us
plenty of ethos.
A monkey could earn a PhD.
A monkey could also call a poem 'neat'
A monkey could also probably write a book.
How, then, do I know that you're no monkey?
Alexandra- thank you for providing me with an analysis of this text.
from United States
Comment 4 of 16, added on August 19th, 2005 at 8:57 AM.
Oh dear. I'm ever so sorry to hear that Plath has a disorder and/or a
characteristic flaw. You've been so helpful. I mean, it isn't as if I
already knew that she suffered from severe depression. When *I* think of
Plath, the words "carefree," "optimistic," and "exuberant" always spring to
C'mon, Mr. Ph.D of Egypt. Did you really come here to bash Plath? I don't
see the point, when you have gone to such great lengths to muffle your
attack with ego-centric verbiage. Oh, I'd love to read these supposedly
"better" poems of yours. I'm sure they're the cat's meow.
This particular poem may be lacking in substance, but its imagery is
stunning. The "crabbed and yellow" thoughts and the lemon moon's "wry-faced
pucker" depict such a vivid scene. And Sylvia Plath, as always, manages to
thread words so seamlessly into a marvelous finished product.
from United States
Comment 3 of 16, added on May 24th, 2005 at 2:33 PM.
Neat little poem. I've written better on the 2c pages of my book in my
spare time, however.
Don't think I'm boasting. I did not mean to be offensive to anyone, namely
the author, alive or dead that she is.
I must say that it is most impressive to someone with no linguistical
training but I saw, upon eye and paper contact, that in these passages in
which the poem is relayed, several betrayals of a certain character flaw
which I have seen many a time in my students, that flaw I dare not mention
here, as it is more of a disorder than a characteristic flaw.
Considering All Due Respects,
Professor S. W. Freemonte, MDS, Ph.D
Prof. S. W. Freemonte, MDS, Ph.D from Egypt
Comment 2 of 16, added on November 14th, 2004 at 2:34 PM.
Love has betrayed this poet.
Her thoughts are focused on the possibility of doom, and her tears are
filled with so much emotion, they burn.
Love once her friend, has turned like the wind and now fills her with
wonder to her fate. She physically shows her discomfort.
Yet despite all, her heart is still young and fresh, and will have the
opportunity to overcome one day.
from United States
Comment 1 of 16, added on October 3rd, 2004 at 8:27 AM.
The poetess is spending a bad-tempered night. She is in a really bad mood!
All the surrounding things are sour and acetic. Her wormy thoughtful
thoughts are bitterer and sallower than the most rotten wine colour. Her
crabbed thoughts are pouring out tears of reddish blood.The wind, too, is
against her:it goes on blowing caustically throughtout the long unslept
night till dawn. The long restless night has deepened and dug the pucker on
her sour-moon-like-face.Now she is leaning and bending over her young heart
like an early green summer sour plum drooping from its weak delicate stem!
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