Mad Girl's Love Song"

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

I lift my lids and all is born again.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,

And arbitrary blackness gallops in:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:

Exit seraphim and Satan's men:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;

At least when spring comes they roar back again.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

-Sylvia Plath

Lately I've been going back to my own writing due to

a school project we had to do, it was about poetry and such.

I must admit that iIm not a big fan of poetry but lately

I've been reding some good poem which have inspired me to

write some of my own. I must say that i really enjoy reading Emily Dickinson's peoms.

there's something about her poems that just-interest me me , I guess you can say.

She has deep thoughts and meanings behind evey line her poems. The peom above i grew to like, at first i thoght it was a vey dumb poem but reading over it, made me like it.

Well for now I believe that is all, I think i will be hitting up a Borders

or a Barnes & Noble pretty soon to get ma hands on a poetry book or just any good book for that matter! To end this, a poem I really like since the first time i heard it (:

Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,

And I had put away

My labour, and my leisure too,

For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,

Their lessons scarcely done;

We passed the fields of gazing grain,

We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;

The roof was scarcely visible,

The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries; but each

Feels shorter than the dayI first surmised the horses' heads

Were toward eternity.

-Emily Dickinson