undressing Anne Sexton

[heslopian]

we meet on the forgotten beach,
you armed with your kill me pills,
and I your book of rhymes.
a rowboat idles at the shore,
as tiny as a child's toy,
or a socialite's poodle.
you wear white, like Dickinson,
but not to proclaim chastity, for
the dress has no sleeves,
and reaches your knees,
and perched between
two thin fingers, like a great
conductor's wand, a cigarette
glows in the harsh, dusky light,
waning like a gas lamp
above the remote sands.

idiosyncratic metaphors
fall from your lips
like sweet faux pas,
as you stumble
near to me, a flightless robin,
your breath a gin
distillery, and when I touch
your ribs you flinch.
I grasp the shoulder straps,
you raise your arms,
the dress collapses
at your feet, like a peasant
girl. I see the bruises,
sheer black welts,
from when you dived
beneath his cart,
and barely screamed
as your bones broke.

always in love with Death,
the one man who played
hard to get, would not be
wooed those early years,
but offered you his hand
that day inside the garage
of the gas.
I envy your relationship.

you stand in your undergarments, cold,
I lay you on the yellow grains,
remove your cigarette, and flick it near
the shushing tide. like an audience filling
each bare theatre seat, the stars emerge
through their veil of black, and I undo
your soft white bra, spread your thighs
to reach your knickers, pure white lace,
not gossamer, but seductive
nonetheless.

I've discovered you so many times,
naked as a monk's conscience;
you're my mother, my mistress,
my incestuous dear,
my teacher of death
and of love and of fear.

[billy]

the use of the boat plays well off her book "The Awful Rowing Toward God" and of the death wish her depression inspired within her is extremely well done. the lines that follow all lead to to the last stanza.

some really good lines that make me feel the period ( though i don't call the sixties a perod (for poetry lol) ) i think i should say the moment/s of who she was.

remove your cigarette, and flick it near
the shushing tide like an audience filling
each bare theatre seat, is for me a great line of poetry.

some of the images work so well in giving us some idea of the woman,
the layered meaning in the title of the poem is a work of art in itself.

thanks for the read jack.

[heslopian]

the use of the boat plays well off her book "The Awful Rowing Toward God" and of the death wish her depression inspired within her is extremely well done. the lines that follow all lead to to the last stanza.

some really good lines that make me feel the period ( though i don't call the sixties a perod (for poetry lol) ) i think i should say the moment/s of who she was.

remove your cigarette, and flick it near
the shushing tide like an audience filling
each bare theatre seat, is for me a great line of poetry.

some of the images work so well in giving us some idea of the woman,
the layered meaning in the title of the poem is a work of art in itself.

thanks for the read jack.

Thanks for the kind words Billy

[addy]

The way you choose images is just so perfect... quirky and vivid, but with a deftness and dreaminess that's just pure art. (lines like "naked as a monk's conscience" just slay me). Wonderful poem with a fascinating subject... a real treat of a read.

[heslopian]

The way you choose images is just so perfect... quirky and vivid, but with a deftness and dreaminess that's just pure art. (lines like "naked as a monk's conscience" just slay me). Wonderful poem with a fascinating subject... a real treat of a read.

Thanks for the kind words addy

[billy]

i enjoyed the write so much i left a comment on your blog

you can put a link to your home page in your signature if you want jack

[mrmod]

I loved it. It was very original. The whole use of the poetry in a sensuous way (I wouldn't say it was erotic poetry even though you had the erotic actions) was great. Your imagery is also top-notch. Bill has mentioned the theatre image, which is to be honest, an astonishing metaphor.

I didn't get all of your ideas,but maybe that was just because I did not know who Anne Sexton was so I just took it as her being your (if you like) idol/woman of your dreams. Still, it was intensely vivid for me.

Good read, thanks . For anyone who (like me) didn't know who Anne Sexton was, this should help:

[Image: http://bbwebb.files.wordpress.com/2009/1...sexton.jpg]

[Todd]

This is a powerful write. Billy had mentioned it in a comment on one of my poems so I went looking for it. It was definitely worth finding. I love this! I would be posting too many lines to say what works for me.

kill me pills

a rowboat idles at the shore,
as tiny as a child's toy,
or a socialite's poodle.

The cigarette imagery

idiosyncratic metaphors
fall from your lips
like sweet faux pas,


your breath a gin
distillery,

always in love with Death,
the one man who played
hard to get, would not be
wooed those early years,
but offered you his hand
that day inside the garage
of the gas.
I envy your relationship.

you stand in your undergarments, cold,
I lay you on the yellow grains,
remove your cigarette, and flick it near
the shushing tide. like an audience filling
each bare theatre seat, the stars emerge
through their veil of black, and I undo
your soft white bra, spread your thighs
to reach your knickers, pure white lace,
not gossamer, but seductive
nonetheless.

you're my mother, my mistress,
my incestuous dear,
my teacher of death
and of love and of fear.

So, go ahead and just quote the poem Todd Even what I left out I like. This idea of getting so into this person. This idea of knowing even though you don't know. In some sense, being brought into intimate connections through her words. Identifying with her need to die. The ending is stellar.

It's a great poem. It has power, and you're somewhat changed by reading it. It's what art is supposed to do.

I mention Sexton briefly once in one of my works (nowhere near this good) and my friend recently published a poem about her reaction to Sexton's death in Boston Literary Magazine. She shared the same psychiatrist with Sexton when she was in her teens. The psychiatrist passed on some of her poetry to Anne. Here's the link in case you're interested:

http://www.bostonliterarymagazine.com/fa...exton.html

Just fantastic work!

Todd

[heslopian]

Thank you so much for the link. That was an incredibly beautiful poem, filled with longing, despair, humanity in all its pain, but also a glimmer of hope, perhaps. Your friend is now among my heroes
Thanks also for the kind words, Todd. You've really made my day