Sunday 11 December 2011

MIrror by Sylvia Plath

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

I chose this poem for my improvisation class. The poem itself is beautiful to read and really speaks to me when thinking of movement. I worked with a partner and she chose some words and phrases from the poem to work with. I found this challenging and would love to try it again!



  • Searching


  • Agitation 


  • Terrible Fish


  • Part of my heart


  • It is pink with speckles 





  • EXPERIMENT PAST WORDS

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