Lady Lazarus

by Sylvia Plath

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap, 
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

23-29 October 1962

Daddy 

You do not do, you do not do 

Any more, black shoe 

In which I have lived like a foot 

For thirty years, poor and white, 

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. 

Daddy, I have had to kill you. 

You died before I had time--- 

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, 

Ghastly statue with one gray toe 

Big as a Frisco seal 

And a head in the freakish Atlantic 

Where it pours bean green over blue 

In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. 

I used to pray to recover you. 

Ach, du. 

In the German tongue, in the Polish town 

Scraped flat by the roller 

Of wars, wars, wars. 

But the name of the town is common. 

My Polack friend 

Says there are a dozen or two. 

So I never could tell where you 

Put your foot, your root, 

I never could talk to you. 

The tongue stuck in my jaw. 

It stuck in a barb wire snare. 

Ich, ich, ich, ich, 

I could hardly speak. 

I thought every German was you. 

And the language obscene 

An engine, an engine, 

Chuffing me off like a Jew. 

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. 

I began to talk like a Jew. 

I think I may well be a Jew. 

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna 

Are not very pure or true. 

With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck 

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack 

I may be a bit of a Jew. 

I have always been sacred of you, 

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. 

And your neat mustache 

And your Aryan eye, bright blue. 

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You---- 

Not God but a swastika 

So black no sky could squeak through. 

Every woman adores a Fascist, 

The boot in the face, the brute 

Brute heart of a brute like you. 

You stand at the blackboard, daddy, 

In the picture I have of you, 

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot 

But no less a devil for that, no not 

Any less the black man who 

Bit my pretty red heart in two. 

I was ten when they buried you. 

At twenty I tried to die 

And get back, back, back to you. 

I thought even the bones would do. 

But they pulled me out of the sack, 

And they stuck me together with glue. 

And then I knew what to do. 

I made a model of you, 

A man in black with a Meinkampf look 

And a love of the rack and the screw. 

And I said I do, I do. 

So daddy, I'm finally through. 

The black telephone's off at the root, 

The voices just can't worm through. 

If I've killed one man, I've killed two--- 

The vampire who said he was you 

And drank my blood for a year, 

Seven years, if you want to know. 

Daddy, you can lie back now. 

There's a stake in your fat black heart 

And the villagers never liked you. 

They are dancing and stamping on you. 

They always knew it was you. 

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

 

This photo was taken about halfway through my walk. As I was walking, I kept looking around and realizing that I live in one of the most beautiful places in Washington. Every time I take walks like this, I am completely amazed by the work God has created. I mean, look around! The horses in this picture function in their own form. They have a small intestine that is 70+ feet long, almost as long as my old house! I am constantly thinking about how amazing this world is! 

 

I could not be more thankful to live out in the country where it is quite and relaxing. This picture is remarkable. Looking at it, I feel free. I love the sun on a cold day, taking a walk past huge pastures full of horses and cows. The green grass and the blue sky are amazing.

 

First of all, I love my town. Second of all, I never knew this sign was here... I drive on this road a few times a month yet I never knew about this sign. My best guess is that I was just driving and forgetting about the beautiful surroundings around me. I find it remarkable how when you take the time to walk and think about everything around you, you see so much more. You actually begin to think of the complex world we live in. 

 

Took my little buddy with me. This is Finnegan, everyone. He is my renter's dog whom I take care of when they go on vacations. I have never had a dog of my own so I am very grateful to be able to take care of them. It is remarkable how fast this dog can drag me down the road... 

 

The very beginning of our little trip! This picture is the very start of my driveway and has been the same for 17 1/2 years. My entire life has been on this road. This is remarkable for me. I have lived in the same exact area my whole life. Leaving for college will be a huge change for me. Every time I come home, this road will be more significant and meaningful. I cannot imagine life away from this property. The night is always a soft pitch black and after so many years, this is where I feel comfortable and safe.  

 

My little walking buddy <3

 

This photo was at the beginning of my day, right before my walk. The fog was extremely thick and it was about 32 degrees outside of the car. Driving my car, all I could think about was how happy I am whenever I have to drive in my jeep. That vehicle is one of my prized possessions. I find it remarkable how God has made our minds to progress and continue learning. We have gone from the days in the time of Jesus to the generations of change and technology.

 

This girl was the very end of my walk. She never fails to bring a smile to my face and I always love to see her. This is my horse Angel. What is truly remarkable is how far she has come in the past year and a half that I have had her. She is the sweetest, most loving horse I have ever been near and she puts up with everything: balloons tied to her halter, running through water, everything you could possibly imagine. I trust this horse with my life and I have never been nervous to get on her or be around her. I mean, look at that precious face! I am always amazed by how respectful she is towards me. What is crazy is how humans have domesticated these animals. I can never wrap my mind around how a wild animal has been contained and used by human beings. Incredible.

Happy Thanksgiving to Ev'ryone alive
This is the time of year for happiness
The happiness is where you find the jive
In each household, there will be much kindness

There will be much to eat for days to come
Imagine all the turkey you could eat
That big and juicy Butterball turk-"scum"
That "scum" will be delicious as fresh meat

The pumpkin pie is the best dessert there
I could eat all of it in just one day
I eat the cheesecake without breaks for air
Between the two, cheesecake takes it away

We are thankful to have loving fam'ly
They care so much; with them I live happ'ly

No fear

This is ridiculous. Am I the only one that seems to see the right thing to do in this situation? I feel as though no one is on my side. My own sister tells me I should just follow the law and remain hidden. I HAVE MY OWN BELIEFS. I don't want to be like Ismene, my sister, and just sit in the kitchen making food, cleaning, and patching my clothing. Her exact words were, “…we are women; it is not for us” (128). What could she mean it is not meant for us? I am just as good as any one and not one person can tell me what to do. If you want to know, my brother, Polynices was killed trying to gain his kingship to the city of Thebes. The king, Creon, refuses to let anyone bury my brother; he can rot in the sun and the animals can eat his wasting body. Can you believe that? My brother, who technically had a right to the throne, is killed and then his body cannot be buried as his punishment? The gods specify burying the bodies! Without burial, Polynices will not receive peace in his death. That is MY BROTHER. He will receive a proper burial because he was a good man and he deserves what is right. However the decree the king put out is prohibiting anyone to bury Polynices or they will be executed. So my sister and I got into an argument about whether or not we should bury him. Ismene seems determined that the role of the woman is to just remain in the houses and not cause a disturbance. I am certain that the will of the gods should be held to the highest standard. I definitely will not let my brother rot in the sun and be pecked at by the birds. But my sister does not seem to want to stand up for her loved ones! How? Her own brother and she will not bury him. Does she want him to have peace in death? Apparently not and I find that sad and appalling. Since she believes that I should not put my life at risk to bury our brother, she told me, “At least be secret. Do not breathe a word. I’ll not betray your secret” (129). I told her, “Publish it [to] all the world!” (129). From my stand, this is my brother and if she isn’t willing to give her life for those who truly loved her, then I hate her.

            Right now, I am extremely irritated. I just gave you all these points that are making me irate. First of all, my sister is continuing to remain ignorant about burying Polynices. She will not give her life for her brother. I am willing to fight for my family, no matter what the cost. And then she brings out how we as women should not create anything. Does she really believe that women belong only in a house? Women are depicted as weak and she is continuing that view. But truthfully, I just want my brother to be buried. I don’t care if I am a woman or not; Polynices is still getting his proper burial. So now, I am going to me immured for getting caught. However, I know inside that my brother will appreciate my love for him. I know he will also appreciate how I defended him and our family. Furthermore, Ismene tried to tell me that she will help me bury the body. I told her, “You would not lend a hand [and] I refused your help in what I did” (141). She does not need to die. When she chose life, I chose death.

            In the end, the noble Creon is who I will blame. He gave this decree to separate my family. But my family is strong. We will stick together through life and death. I am not afraid to give my life for my brother. I am not afraid.

Cassidy Stobart
AP English, Period 2
Mrs. Myers
10/18/13

She wanted to leave. All of these people surrounding her, laughing with their friends, excited about receiving an A on the math test, and pumped for the upcoming break for Thanksgiving. The holiday where everyone shoved their faces with delicious food and the holiday in which everyone got to see their loved ones, significant others, and friends. However, she continued to wander through the hallways, her head down, and her heart beating slowly and painfully. She felt like a chuck of her heart had disappeared. This chunk was away at school and now, refused to speak to her. She was supposed to see him in less than a week. The day before, she had realized that she would never get the opportunity to see him again, let alone BE his again. She continued walking to her class and sat there while the teacher cracked jokes and discussed novels. But she just sat there, drowning in misery that only her best friends recognized. Her eyes were drooping; after crying her eyes out the night before, she fell asleep with tears still streaming down her face, and probably only slept about three hours maximum. She wanted this pain to end and she just wished that he was still with her, still her "significant other". Each day dragged on, she continued to try to text him, he would not respond. When he did, he kept saying they were over and it just was just not working out for him. Each night was filled with tears and disbelief that he was technically gone from her life...

Finally, it was a Sunday afternoon, about 2 weeks after the breakup. She had been talking to someone that had been her best friend for almost 6 years. However, she was afraid to commit to any kind of relationship, even a friendship, again. She knew she could trust her best friend, with all the support he was giving her during this hard time. But she felt hopeless, scared. She had an oppressive fear gripping her from ever wanting to try anything again. She noticed that heartache was way too much for her to handle. But along with this emotional terror she was experiencing, she gained a fear much greater than the fear of being emotionally hurt. Her new found fear was in physical pain. The wrenching feeling in her gut and her heart scared her and she felt like she had been punched and kicked repeatedly. She feared life and all of the pain it had brought her. She became scared of getting hurt; car crashes, heart attacks, everything seemed to scare her and made her feel like she could not go on.

She was driving to the barn where her horse was stabled. She planned on riding but she was terrified that she might get thrown off or severely injured. However, she got out of the car and walked to the barn. Her horse nickered at her and she felt the warmth of the barn surround her, the first warmth she had felt in a long time. Wapo made her laugh constantly as he tried to push his nose into her coat to find any kind of treat she had for him. She smiled as she gave him a peppermint and he crunched happily away on his success in finding a yummy treat. After brushing and tacking up her horse, she led Wapo out to the arena and slowly tightened her girth. Her stomach was filled with knots. She remembered all the times that he came to watch her ride, and he always told her how excellent of a rider she was. It made her feel confident and on top of the world. But now, his presence was gone, probably forever. It was dark, so she flipped on the arena lights and carefully got on. She slid her headphones into her ears and turned on Pandora Radio. As she started working Wapo, she noticed that she was singing along to a song that was playing. Then it hit her. The songs that were playing were making her angry and stronger. She was listening to Taylor Swift "We are never getting back together". Each song that was playing was in some way, matching her situation. They were talking about revenge, getting over those that have hurt you, and being strong. She yelled each word in lyrics, wishing he could hear the pain turning into anger. She also wished he could know she was over him and over what he put her through. As she continued to sing, she started jumping and doing everything she loved about riding. When she had finally finished, she started to realize something. Something that still affects her, even to this day. She realized that she has an immense fear of being hurt emotionally and being "left behind". But she did not fear the possibility of physical pain. She could sense the power, strength and freedom that she had while she was on her horse. She was stronger than this depressed, broken girl. As her life lesson, she remembers that every time she breaks, her horses will save her. She still experiences this same problem everyday; the emotional difficulties and stress get to her easily, and that will always be her weakness. But physically, she is strong enough to control an animal who can be unpredictable. But that's where her strength comes in: she is fearless and craves the adrenaline rush that makes her feel on top of the world.

Cassidy Stobart

Mrs. Myers

AP English

4 October 2013

Personal Statement

            A deep slumber is indubitably the greatest way to spend your night and early morning. Each and every one of us needs relaxation and calm, quality rest. However, one morning can be entirely different from the rest; this morning can change everything, your whole world, in just a matter of mere hours. One very early morning, around 5 a.m., my father rushed into my room, panting hard, his eyes were fearful and nervous. He quickly woke me and proceeded to tell me that one of my oldest horses, Rhumba, was very sick and he was not sure how much longer she was going to make it.

            Not one person on this planet ever wants to hear the news of any kind of tragedy. My instinct and impulsion caused me to jump out of bed and find the nearest possible set of sweatpants. I was hurrying; the grave tone of my father’s voice had my stomach tied up in millions of knots, knots that even a boy scout would not know how to undo. Rushing out of the house, I felt the cold frost of the  morning smack me on my bare face. I shivered despite my many warm clothes, and I sprinted down to the barn, and to Rhumba’s pasture. When I arrived, I saw her. My poor baby girl was panting heavily, and sweating excessively; the sweat was running down her body and was creating puddles beneath her. She looked stressed, pained, and it was easy to tell how difficult it was for her to breathe. She had white foam pouring out of her nostrils, which was abundant liquid coming straight from her lungs. I felt my throat tighten as I carefully made my way over to her. She flicked her ears in my direction, as despite her painful breathing, she watched me come towards her. Her whole body shook with each struggling breath. Watching her, I felt my own heart begin to beat heavily; I was standing in front of a horse that I had known all my life. I wrapped my arms around her sweat soaked neck. As I held her, every memory of her and I, and my life involving horses, came flooding back into my head. I remembered my first time ever getting on a horse, which was Rhumba, and I was only 2 years old. I recalled Rhumba’s grouchy attitude when someone tried to mess with her while she was eating; that mare loved her grain and hay and was always on her guard to defend her food. However, she always had energy, even in her old age. Rhumba may be old, but if she was in human form, she would be one of the most independent and strong willed woman I have ever come across. Each memory was golden and it frightened me to think that this very morning might be my last with her.

            I immediately asked where the vet was and my parents responded with, “He is on his way right now. Thank God. We need him more than ever”. While waiting, I leaned down next to Rhumba’s nostrils and started wiping the foam away with a paper towel. I breathed next to her, hoping to bring her a calming sense that she was going to be alright. The entire time, she watched each of us: my mom, my dad, and I. All three of us had tears in our eyes. But Rhumba was completely alert; she heard every sound and saw everything that was happening around her. At that very moment my vet arrived and rushed over to aid in whatever way he could. I saw the grave look that settled over his face; however, he told us that he was going to get a few shots. As he got them, he expressed his concern to my mother that he was not sure he could save her but he would try his very best. Taking the shots of lifesaving medication, he injected Rhumba with many different kinds. He told us to wait; we were now playing a game against time. Rhumba continued to breathe heavily, and we all discussed putting her out of her misery. Looking at Rhumba, I was sure it was not her time to leave this earth. We all waited, and just when it deemed our time to say our goodbyes, a miracle occurred. The shots Dr. Jeff had given Rhumba had started to take their effect. Slowly, the foam stopped and although her breathing was heavy, she looked much more relaxed and less scared. I stared in astonishment and my vet smiled with gratitude.

 I still remember this day as if it was yesterday. There are many jobs in the world I could chose to be. However, I have come to have a deep love for science and medicine. Going through high school, I always appreciated the opportunity to learn more about the bodies of animals and humans. With passion and devotion, I studied excessively to educate myself with knowledge to be a veterinarian. My heart grows when it comes to helping animals live a better life. I have owned horses since I was a baby and have dealt with many kinds of accidents, many of which needed a veterinarian instantly. After watching the miracle my vet was able to perform, my entire being yearns to become a vet just like him. He saved my horse’s life, and without him, she still would not be here today. As I look at my journey ahead, I can see all of the hurdles of working with animals. I understand some animals cannot be helped, and they must go for the better. On that fateful day for Rhumba, the saving grace was in my veterinarian’s hands. He acted so calm and knowledgeable. My dream, and my heart soars when I imagine it, is to perform in a career as a vet, saving the lives of animals so that they may live a longer and prosperous life. With this vision embedded within my brain, I cannot wait to begin on the road to knowledge and the power to save. My dream is to be able to accomplish the miracles and overcome what seems impossible, just as my vet saved the life of an animal so dear to me. Now I want to contribute the same back to my society.