In The Vein Of Mapplethorpe

Poems about flowers

 
 
 
 
 
 

OPEN UP

Open up
Like a flower
A mouth
Like an eye
A window
A book
Open up
Like a flower
A hand
Like a door
A maze
An incision
Open up
Like a mouth
A maze

Open up
Like a flower
Open up
Like an opening
Open up
 

KISS BLOSSOMS

Let me kiss blossoms
Dandelions
Starbursts
Nipples
Let me kiss with honey tongue
Daffodils
Snowdrops
Lillies
Neck
Let me buzz them like a bee
Geraniums
Snapdragons
Agapanthas
Ribs
Let me honey them with tongue
Tulips
Sweetpeas
Roses
Hips
Let me bite them with bee sting
Dandelions
Starbursts
Nipples

Let me kiss blossoms

NOT FORGOTTEN

These fingers are forget-me-nots
They remember
Each and every crease and curve
Along which they have adventured
These fingers ar sunflowers
They shine
With the warmth of caresses long abandoned
These fingers are poppies
Addictive and addicted
They swoon    dope wise    at the feel of heaving chests
Shivering bellies
Wet lips
These fingers are forget-me-nots
They remember
What the head has forgotten

BHUTAN  BLUE

I watch him walking from behind
His back is majestic in the sun
It speaks of love
And everyone.
I chase his eyes as they hide from mine
I see him kissing me in my mind
I think of love
And everyone.

I watch him walking from behind
His spine spreads tingles down mine
I think of love 
And then everyone.
I trace the veins of his arms and I pine
I see him kissing me in my mind
And I think of love
And everyone.

I watch him walking from behind
His face mirrored in the sky
I think of love
And then everyone.

I listen to Asia sing within him
Blue
And I think of love and everyone
And I think of a blue poppy humming
Behind his skin.
 

DOWN FOR THE COUNT

Faux eye lashes
That are suicidal Gerberas
(clinging perilously to drowsy lids)
Bat and bowl me out
Down me for the count
With their spidery seduction
Hypnotease me
Erotically
Into oblivion.

IN THE VEIN OF MAPPLETHORPE

There is Lobelia,
Traces of razorblades,
The shadows of lillies,
A monkey's ghost,
Leather,
Flowers sweet.
There is silver,
Emulsion,
Magic,
Alchemy,
And bruising.
There is pollen,
HIV,
Fame,
Cruelty.
There are echoes of whispers,
Icons,
The seeds of Africa,
Fields of grass,
And the shadows of lillies.
There is disco,
DNA,
A vine of bleeding hearts,
Plasma,
In the veins of Mapplethorpe.
 
 


Reviews 

"Dallas Angguish's flower poems are a curbside masterpiece - to be outdone, I'm sure, only by his own future work." -  Zerox