Wings Against the Bell Jar


I am trapped inside a bell jar,
a specimen displayed for
the entertainment
of vicious tongues.

Cruelty sees a butterfly trying
to take wings through glass…
I see pupils gorging on terror.

Oh candle, I wish a match
had never found your wick.

I prefer night where
dreams wear a gray mask
to soften revelation,
not nightmares so brazen
they welcome recognition.  

©Susie Clevenger 2015

I seem to be in a Sylvia Plath mood.
I chose Grapelings challenge, Masks

Comments

Jim said…
Sylvia Plath (“Metaphors”) indeed. I love it.
Like a butter fly in a jar, "boarded the train there’s no getting off."
BTW, Sylvia's Bday would have been tomorrow. She was born (27th) a year before I was (30th) but 'had' an unfortunate early death.
..
Carol Campbell said…
I love the concept of being on display. Captured really fits!
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Brilliant writing, Susie. Truly.
Kerry O'Connor said…
This poem is fraught with tension, and something of October melancholy. I think it is very well done.
Wonderful, and even though I don't know much of Sylvia Plath, you've conveyed a feeling of suffocation. Loved this.
brudberg said…
I have read the bell jar, but that last stanza is perfection.. love the rhymes, and the conclusion.. the feeling of being on display..
Marian said…
Woke this morning from some freaky dreams myself. Argh!
Maude Lynn said…
This gave me shivers.
Gail said…
Strange thing...bell jars have always scared me...and for all the reasons you stated so eloquently.
ayala said…
The mood well captured. Lovely !
Margaret said…
Sylvia Plath you have cornered and captured! Wow.