writing
Flowers in Art, a book of poems and images in progress 2021.
Forsythia
It must be spring, he says. The forsythias.
He gestures towards the yellow flowers
seemingly in full bloom.
presence of milk in the heart of
flaming sunshine plant
petals bright yellow crusts
Husk of sea animal dried
Liminal in the woody rhizomes
a neighbour's yard
Spring its own sap as fibre grease
Across the oblivion of
Mechanical ages, plastics,
now screen glow
Xanthophyll burning bush
Wavelength: 575–585 nm
industrial revolution in milk
bovine in green stem and flare petal
use keyed-up blue for the whites
in an oil painting
at night even this flame yellow
might appear cool
ultramarine figures in the
life of highlights you’d paint as white
milk in the dark, a pthalo even
with dimming umber
a head of thorn scrub
breaks in tempest > newer winds
a white bleeds its fractures
Yet, a mother in art knows
her child of death suckles
Some seeds are winged as birds are,
navigate air resistance at heights
where death is a scenario
Imagine yourself that free committing
to the leap out of the plane’s hull
Burrow into some slick clay earth
And burn out of its coffin nails and all,
blood-tinged
A vampire super hero plant
Fang of calcium
Asterids
astarel
winsor yellow from winsor castle of forsythias
Untoned flame yellow olive cultivate
Oleaceae
In the naming exercise illustrated
cads and naples and winsors
Sun turned off now
Milk of cobalt and ult blue and sevres
All the needs of day sun
Sleeping cool now
Seasonal blue flower midnight
Vampire asleep in seed pod, itches awake