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#annesexton
lovingsylvia · 10 months
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"It is June. I am tired of being brave."
–Anne Sexton, from "The Truth the Dead Know"
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lforlimbo · 5 months
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She is all there. She was melted carefully down for you and cast up from your childhood, cast up from your one hundred favorite aggies. She has always been there, my darling. She is, in fact, exquisite. Fireworks in the dull middle of February and as real as a cast-iron pot. Let's face it, I have been momentary. vA luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor. My hair rising like smoke from the car window. Littleneck clams out of season. She is more than that. She is your have to have, has grown you your practical your tropical growth. This is not an experiment. She is all harmony. She sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy, has placed wild flowers at the window at breakfast, sat by the potter's wheel at midday, set forth three children under the moon, three cherubs drawn by Michelangelo, done this with her legs spread out in the terrible months in the chapel. If you glance up, the children are there like delicate balloons resting on the ceiling. She has also carried each one down the hall after supper, their heads privately bent, two legs protesting, person to person, her face flushed with a song and their little sleep. I give you back your heart. I give you permission - for the fuse inside her, throbbing angrily in the dirt, for the bitch in her and the burying of her wound - for the burying of her small red wound alive - for the pale flickering flare under her ribs, for the drunken sailor who waits in her left pulse, for the mother's knee, for the stocking, for the garter belt, for the call - the curious call when you will burrow in arms and breasts and tug at the orange ribbon in her hair and answer the call, the curious call. She is so naked and singular She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid. As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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sylviaplathink · 6 months
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via Facebook
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Today marks the 49th anniversary of Anne Sexton’s death! RIP!
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
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*Sylvia’s Death*                  
for Sylvia Plath
O Sylvia, Sylvia, with a dead box of stones and spoons,
with two children, two meteors wandering loose in a tiny playroom,
with your mouth into the sheet, into the roofbeam, into the dumb prayer,
(Sylvia, Sylvia where did you go after you wrote me from Devonshire about rasing potatoes and keeping bees?)
what did you stand by, just how did you lie down into?
Thief — how did you crawl into,
crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long,
the death we said we both outgrew, the one we wore on our skinny breasts,
the one we talked of so often each time we downed three extra dry martinis in Boston,
the death that talked of analysts and cures, the death that talked like brides with plots,
the death we drank to, the motives and the quiet deed?
(In Boston the dying ride in cabs, yes death again, that ride home with our boy.)
O Sylvia, I remember the sleepy drummer who beat on our eyes with an old story,
how we wanted to let him come like a sadist or a New York fairy
to do his job, a necessity, a window in a wall or a crib,
and since that time he waited under our heart, our cupboard,
and I see now that we store him up year after year, old suicides
and I know at the news of your death a terrible taste for it, like salt,
(And me, me too. And now, Sylvia, you again with death again, that ride home with our boy.)
And I say only with my arms stretched out into that stone place,
what is your death but an old belonging,
a mole that fell out of one of your poems?
(O friend, while the moon’s bad, and the king’s gone, and the queen’s at her wit’s end the bar fly ought to sing!)
O tiny mother, you too! O funny duchess! O blonde thing!
—Anne Sexton, written February 17, 1963
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ahnhyung · 2 months
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Mi primera..
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korwolfie · 3 months
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Lonely
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I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind.
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"Once de Diciembre" - Anne Sexton
(de "Poemas de amor" 1969)
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huachick · 2 years
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Happy Sunday! Slept in a bit this morning. Now I have my strong coffee and spending some time with my muse. "Making a Living" was the choice this morning. #anneismymuse #annesexton #poet #poetry (at Great Falls, Montana) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgrqHPwro4T/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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uzunburakefendi · 2 years
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. Son okuduğum şiir kitabından. #annesexton #yaşayadaöl #çeviri #arzugöncü #ayrıntıyayınları #şiir #kitap #neokuyorum #okumakiptiladır #okumahalleri #ölüm https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc6J4qmtmcG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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thinkbyfeelings · 1 year
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~ I’ve been abandoned out here,
under the dry stars ~
Anne Sexton, from *The Fury of Abandonment*
Painting by John William Waterhouse
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salliland · 1 year
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Poesie d’amore #annesexton #poesie #cit #frasi #salliland 🧸 https://www.instagram.com/p/CkMJ7Bsj8f9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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lovingsylvia · 1 year
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Anne Sexton’s poem “Courage” featured in the Netflix movie To the Bone (2017), starring Lily Collins and Keanu Reeves.
For a detailed breakdown, see: https://www.buzzfeednews.com
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COURAGE
It is in the small things we see it. The child’s first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk. The first spanking when your heart went on a journey all alone. When they called you crybaby or poor or fatty or crazy and made you into an alien, you drank their acid and concealed it. Later, if you faced the death of bombs and bullets you did not do it with a banner, you did it with only a hat to comver your heart. You did not fondle the weakness inside you though it was there. Your courage was a small coal that you kept swallowing. If your buddy saved you and died himself in so doing, then his courage was not courage, it was love; love as simple as shaving soap. Later, if you have endured a great despair, then you did it alone, getting a transfusion from the fire, picking the scabs off your heart, then wringing it out like a sock. Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow, you gave it a back rub and then you covered it with a blanket and after it had slept a while it woke to the wings of the roses and was transformed. Later, when you face old age and its natural conclusion your courage will still be shown in the little ways, each spring will be a sword you’ll sharpen, those you love will live in a fever of love, and you’ll bargain with the calendar and at the last moment when death opens the back door you’ll put on your carpet slippers and stride out.
–Anne Sexton, “Courage” in The Awful Rowing Toward God, 1975
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Image source: https://www.buzzfeednews.com/
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gmrstudios · 1 year
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I fell behind on my blog by a new record 13 days, and it took me 30 days to catch up. Rather than making 30 posts, here's a grid of some content. All posts at sensedoubt dot blogspot dot com. #blogging #blogosphere #bowieforever⚡️ #startrek #fripp #theonion #annesexton #pythonprogramming #booksofinstagram #booklover https://www.instagram.com/p/CjiSC7ALmAVShiC8GH-ivOlRT5yl_xGvcwjmUs0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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sylviaplathink · 5 months
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via Squiggy Tattoo LLC (Tulsa, USA) on Facebook
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HAPPY 95th BIRTHDAY Anne Sexton! RIP!
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
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Photo: Anne Sexton ca. 1960, photographed by Rollie McKenna
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deadpoet-societies · 2 years
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♡ "you have the love that my heart searched for" i say "You're the love all that i searched for" he said "You have everything i searched for" i say "You're everything i searched for" he said. We closed both our eyes and felt the love that we craved all this time by a deep kiss that took us to a whole new world, a new world just for the two of us. 📷-@pinterest Tags🏷️ #muse_to_hearts #deadpoetssociety #johngreenquotes #annesexton #richardsiken #patrickrothfuss #darkacademiaaesthetic #darkacademia #classicliterature #literature #shakespeare #tumblraesthetic #tumblrposts #tumblrpoststhatneverhappened #handsaesthetic #romanticism #greekmythology #hoziermemes #literatura #poetry #darkacademiabooks #darkacademiavibes #virginia woolf #classiclit #classicliteraturememes #instagrampoets #explore_page #TheRandomLifafa https://www.instagram.com/p/ChZq1UspyUS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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intellectures · 2 years
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Die Welt der Lust entdecken
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Die spanische Illustratorin María Hesse widmet ihr neues Buch der Entdeckung der eigenen Lust. Auch wenn der Band an mancher Stelle an Liv Strömquists feministische Interventionen erinnert, hat diese »Erkundung der weiblichen Sexualität« durch den ganz anderen Strich und den autobiografischen Ansatz ihren eigenen Charme. Read the full article
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