Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Leaving Early

Leaving Early by Sylvia Plath

Lady, your room is lousy with flowers.
When you kick me out, that's what I'll remember,
Me, sitting here bored as a leopard
In your jungle of wine-bottle lamps,
Velvet pillows the color of blood pudding
And the white china flying fish from Italy.
I forget you, hearing the cut flowers
Sipping their liquids from assorted pots,
Pitchers and Coronation goblets
Like Monday drunkards. The milky berries
Bow down, a local constellation,
Toward their admirers in the tabletop:
Mobs of eyeballs looking up.
Are those petals of leaves you've paried with them ---
Those green-striped ovals of silver tissue?
The red geraniums I know.
Friends, friends. They stink of armpits
And the invovled maladies of autumn,
Musky as a lovebed the morning after.
My nostrils prickle with nostalgia.
Henna hags: cloth of your cloth.
They tow old water thick as fog.

The roses in the Toby jug
Gave up the ghost last night. High time.
Their yellow corsets were ready to split.
You snored, and I heard the petals unlatch,
Tapping and ticking like nervous fingers.
You should have junked them before they died.
Daybreak discovered the bureau lid 
Littered with Chinese hands. Now I'm stared at
By chrysanthemums the size
Of Holofernes' head, dipped in the same
Magenta as this fubsy sofa.
In the mirror their doubles back them up.
Listen: your tenant mice
Are rattling the cracker packets. Fine flour
Muffles their bird feet: they whistle for joy.
And you doze on, nose to the wall.
This mizzle fits me like a sad jacket.
How did we make it up to your attic?
You handed me gin in a glass bud vase.
We slept like stones. Lady, what am I doing
With a lung full of dust and a tongue of wood,
Knee-deep in the cold swamped by flowers?
Now Wearing: 
  • floral evening shawl (worn as headscarf), c/o Jacob
  • vintage woolen floral cardigan, thrifted
  • silk J. Crew floral print blouse, thrifted
  • vintage rose broach, thrifted 
  • short shorts, D.I.Y.
  • vintage floral tapestry handbag, thrifted 
  • floral tights, FRINGE
  • Frye boots 


 
 

21 comments:

Lakota [Faith Hope and Charity Shopping] said...

Ah Plath, her words are always surprising and immediate, no matter how many times you read her. The way she talks about flowers is rather unnerving, don't you think? Perhaps because she had so many hospital stays.

Anyway, your outfit is a sight cheerier - you are a walking bouquet! I've been wearing my rose perfume again now it's (allegedly) Summer, I love the smell.
x

Pam @ over50feeling40 said...

I love this picture!! Picture Perfect...have a wonderful day, Bella.

Patti said...

As Lakota said, you are indeed a walking bouquet, fabulous. Plath's poems still raise the hairs on my arms every time.

SACRAMENTO said...

Wonderful, Bella.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

La Dama said...

I love Plath's style of poems.
Your are like a wild flor amor.
lovely floral shawl worn as headscarf.
Would love a close up of your prosti shorts.
Besones

Krista said...

I don't think I have ever heard of Plath but I do like the images her words conjure in my mind. You look great in all your flowers but those boots are hot mama! Hope you are enjoying your man and all your new surroundings.
XOXO
Krista

Joni James said...

Love her poetry. She makes you feel like you're right there and can even smell her words.
You look especially great in this outfit. I like you in florals a lot!

Consider Me Lovely said...

You are beautiful in floral Bella dear!

Thrifted Shift said...

Wow! That poem has so many rich images! Especially love "bored as a leopard"! You're looking wonderful in florals and light! Have a great day (and evening!)
--TS

pastcaring said...

Love a bit of Plath (haven't read her for ages) and love all your gorgeous florals. xxx

Style Mentor™ said...

"Listen: your tenant mice
Are rattling the cracker packets."

I have had problems for weeks with Norway Rats that look like little mice so that line made me stop in my tracks. I recall hearing rattling sounds in the kitchen and that is when I caught them in action. And I almost had a heart attack because little tiny creatures can do that to a lady sometimes. :-)

Love that cardigan. xo!

Terri said...

several arresting images in this poem, one of Plath's I'd never read before. Doesn't sound like she cared much for cut flowers.

THE-LOUDMOUTH said...

Such a beautiful poem and a gorgeous mix of floral prints. I adore the cardigan, especially.

Lisa said...

Wonderful poem and I love the way you mixed your florals! Not many people can pull it off in this way, but it's beautiful and magical on you!

Hang T. Tran said...

Beautiful flower and beautiful you!
Have a sunny day!
Hang

Melanie said...

Tongue of wood and mobs of eyeballs... She burned brightly. You are a floral masterpiece here, colourful, breathing, full of life. A beautiful contrast to the table action described in Plath's poem. A lovely post.

sylvia @ 40PlusStyle said...

Beautiful!

Taylor Gilmore said...

Ah Bella, this is beautiful! Love the poem and love the photo.

Fashion Tales.... said...

So beautiful: Blooming Bella! I'm just catching up on blogs and it's so nice and refreshing to read what I've missed. xo

fdiary said...

That's my next project mixing floral prints, I'm feeling your combination. Looking good as always Diva!

Susan Partlan said...

I'll never look at cut flowers again without thinking of this poem.

You look so beautiful in that first photo.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails