Silent stars
Setting suns
Stolen screams….
A child thrived,
your love survived
the wafting gas of that chilly, chilly morning…
An inheritance fell upon your heart
the day your mother fell upon the floor….
Her tortured soul …… no more…
Life marches on.
Your Mother’s gone.
Her bequest speckled your Father’s shelves….
A beckoning tempest of death’s notebooks calling –
calling your young eyes to find her soul within …
But she wasn’t there, was she?
Atwixt those words, those lines of Collected Poems?
Where is she now?
Do you find her in the streaking world that blasts by your Hyabusa?
And what of I? Or us?
Are we but pixels in this wash of color that
now wallpapers your periphery?
When the whirlwind stops,
when the chase ends
and the dizziness of motion fades
you will find us all here,
the world,
loving you desperately………
I will be the sparkling pixel, dear Frieda…
.
.
“My problem is that I am the daughter of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath,
but I wanted to be an individual. But we are, of course, a product of
our parents. In denying them, you deny part of who you are. It’s taken
me years to be comfortable with that”
…..Frieda Hughes
© 2011 John Richter
johnallenrichter 
January 10th, 2012 at 12:18 pm
I love the poem, I love what you were saying in this post. As for .Frieda Hughes like all offspring of famous parents they could either put up with their honoured status or change their names, keep quiet about their parents and see how they fare. I do not mean this in a mean way, we all have our cross to bare and if that is the worst she has to bemoan she is very, very lucky. I wish you and yours a very happy and healthy 2012.xx
January 10th, 2012 at 9:25 pm
oh I loved this. Plath is probably my favourite poet, and I say probably though I think she is – I really like how you took this subject – your phrasings and descriptions were brilliant here – this in particular – “Where is she now?
Do you find her in the streaking world that blasts by your Hyabusa?
And what of I? Or us?
Are we but pixels in this wash of color that
now wallpapers your periphery?” – was superbly done! I am sure I’ll be back to this blog! cheers, OT
January 10th, 2012 at 10:14 pm
That’s quite a poem, John.Lots to think about. I had not realized Sylvia Plath had a daughter. I don’t know much about Ted Hughes. Sounds like he had his issues too! Willowdot21 made some good points too.
January 10th, 2012 at 11:43 pm
Quite the verse indeed
Here at your feed
The revelations brought about I had not known
Thanks for throwing me a bone
Even if I am a cat
But I can bribe a dog with that..haha
January 11th, 2012 at 12:36 am
huh intriguing did not realise this myself…and a very nice verse to go with john….it must be interesting living in those shadows you know…
January 11th, 2012 at 12:52 am
I’ll echo the previous comments but I will add, very nice use of the word Hyabusa. Didn’t see that coming at all and was a most wonderful surprise. Most excellently done.
Great work here.
January 11th, 2012 at 2:42 am
Where is she now? Beautiful poem.
Hello John.
January 11th, 2012 at 3:01 am
Johnnnnn!!!! Haven’t seen you in a while! Happy to stumble ‘cross you here in the pub! 🙂 Fantastic piece you have shared and thanks for the info to boot! Love learning things I had not known. I like to know a little bit about a lot of things 😉
http://magicinthebackyard.wordpress.com/2012/01/10/nightlights/
January 11th, 2012 at 1:03 pm
Such an interesting idea for a poem. A pretty difficult legacy. I actually kept thinking of it as a holocaust poem when I first started reading! A totally different take of course, but interesting too. The poem works as is, but oddly could be reshaped for different subjects since that sense of the onlooker over someone troubled is very strong and a kind of universal situation. K.
January 11th, 2012 at 2:31 pm
Very interesting write. I can’t relate personally, but it is something we all see and wonder about.
http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2012/01/10/the-sun-came-up-again-4/
January 11th, 2012 at 9:36 pm
A very good poem indeed. In response to oceangirl, where is she now? Frieda Hughes currently lives in Abergele, Wales where she continues to paint and write. She can be heard occasonally as a guest on various BBC Radio 3 and Radio 4 culture and review programmes. Most recently she opened an exhibition of her mother’s line drawings at the Mayor Gallery, London and attended the unveiling of the memorial to her father at Westminster Abbey in December 2011.
She drives a motorbike, listens to AC/DC, and her most recent book is ‘The Book Of Mirrors’, which I recommend.
January 29th, 2012 at 10:36 pm
Makes me wonder if you know her personally. Excellent poem with reat word choice from the alliteration at the start and the beauty of “sparkling pixel” at the end!
February 8th, 2012 at 1:21 pm
powerful word flow, wow.
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February 9th, 2012 at 2:19 pm
… so many questions… nice what to involved the reader
February 9th, 2012 at 2:21 pm
nice way to involved the reader