best friends centuries apart

best friends centuries apart

Emily gave Sylvia a tongue lashing

as her spirit transmuted into a twentieth century voice

scolding her about Ted,

posing a question of autonomy

reprimanding Ms. Plath for not being more reclusive

and reserved

Emily in rare verbosity 

corralled Sylvia's ghost

reigned her in

with near rhyme

about near misses

and serious slants on romance

leaving love for fantasy as did she

pictures of matchstick men

easy to ignite in dreams

just as easy to turn to ash

as she turned off her desk lamp

and drew closed her sash

while Sylvia wished

she really were Lady Lazarus

with the chance to follow

such sage advice.

erin-cilberto

10/5/19

Reviews

[Eilis]

Sylvia could have used a friend like Emily. It might have done her good. She was too much in her own head and couldn’t find the way out. Poetry can be a road to higher ground or a road to hell for a poet that struggles with depression in such depths as she did. Everything becomes a symbol and potential reason to abandon the land of the living.

I love the idea of this, Jacob. If only we could move through time and transfer our wisdom and knowledge to one another. Or be the rock or compassion someone needs in a moment of desperation.

I relate to both of these women, and love that in ways they are two sides of one coin. Fiercely independent spirits impacted by the world around them. Emily just seemed better able to temper her passions where they needed tempering. Poetry was a grace for her. For her. That’s fascinating to me. That she didn’t need anything else.

Great work on this. I love the imagination and compassion. Excellent poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

your words are so insightful, Eilis...thank you for them...yes, Sylvia wrote so many letters to her mother and in a way was crying out for help, but her mom was too close to her, and Sylvia too much like her mother...there could be no help there...Emily would have been somewhat dispassionate in her response, objective...she might have helped her.
thank you for your kind review,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

They shared a passion for their art, they were worlds apart in character and yet they both delight us years after their demise with their words. Yes, they could both have learned from each other, but Sylvia would have learned more. Sylvia surely died because of Ted. He was no figment of her imagination. She bled for Ted and paid a dreadful price for it. Truly wonerfull writing Jacob. What a thought. Two icons taking tea together having a good old chin wag :)

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, i agree, she bled for Ted...i like the idea of them having tea together...thank you for your words, Chris...appreciate your review,
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The beauty that these two women created is magnificent when you consider the lives that they led. Like broken vessels, they bled words, from pen to paper; and we still whisper their names today. I like how you encapsulate both in your poem. While surely different, they are also very much the same. Their voices always speak to the yearning soul. Well penned.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, Linda...
j.

[Chris]

She said and she said on a timeless imagining of disparate social themes and structures - precious.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Chris,
j.

[Kelly Scheppers]

Your title makes for quite an interesting interpretation, and you didn't dare disappoint. I could almost hear the "tongue lashing" Emily gave Sylvia...oh, if she only knew the sacrifice she made. Makes me wonder what their take on each other would be. Thanks so much for going there, Jacob. It's a fascinating read!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I would be fascinated myself...they are my numbers one and two poets as favs.
thank you for your read and words, Kelly,
j.