Pictures: "Once An Apple", "A Banana Wounded", "An Extroverted Lemon", "Amongst This Fruit".
I haven't written that many poems about fruit and vegetation, but here are a few:
Here is a poem I wrote only a couple days ago:
An Apple Never Again
---------------------
The apple is cut into its third. And touching it, yes,
I sipped its vacant nectar. Inside its seeds, inside
Its transmutation, the strange spiral rose,
Rising to be yet another dream softly undermined.
Oh, the fruit was once hypocritical. But soon
It became sweet and enclosed. Soon its shell,
An indecisive peel, it too tasted introverted. It
Too tasted of such magnificent flesh. Oh, this
Trisected remnant of the quasi-sphere, it
Articulated its redemption. And then, the beige
Turned brown, the reddish green withered. And
The apple was never again defined by its beauty.
It never again tempted us with its defilement.
For, we also grew sick in our own aversion.
===================
Here is another relatively recent poem:
Herbivorous
-------------
Slicing through this spherical fruit, I cut
Again parallel to, but distantly from,
The previous dissection.
Therefore, circumscribed is the chord. For it
Tastes of my tongue, looks like my eye.
And its sweet extraction becomes its sap.
Its liquid rises unto that spiral. In this
Milk is discovered the isolation in which
We are submerged. And I drown, yes. But
I am pleased that the tang of such nectar
Is my very thought. Ah, beautiful is this
Stain. Beautiful is the moist amber
That we have sipped. Oh, I doubt that I
Can be sickened by such a dessert. I doubt
That the molecules will tingle in my mind.
For, I am herbivorous. I am contaminated by
The fructose of shape, of nonconformity
Soon to be rancid and fermented and free.
++++++++++++++++++
Rotten And Forgotten
---------------------
Dreams leave us to forget them. But then I
Have seen the charisma of blasphemy. I sought
That angry expression made charming, made to glisten.
There within I provoked such proof; I conjectured such
Thoughts to be descending. I agonized regarding
The color of the enchanted twine. I redeemed
This puzzling spiral by its vacuous arousal. And
There too inside the line, I made the circles
Circumscribe us underneath those dreams, those dreams
We forget.
Ah, angles are again perplexing. Ah, I pretend to be
Amazed by my own self. Ah, I am grotesquely stale, yet
I am dreaming, dreaming of the carcass formed
From fruit both sweet and waning, both rotten
And forgotten, both mediocre and shapelessly drawn.
......................................
This Sinful Fluid
---------------------
The sour sweet dripped, oh, precious nectar,
Into the vile, the goblet glass.
And so I dare take the sip of this
Forbidden fruit-juice, this sinful fluid.
And aroused come the primal passions
Which confuse the super-ego and
Cause our emotions to dance so much askew.
And angered arrive our forgotten lusts,
Our deadly sins uncountable and infinite.
Oh, taste the drink of taboos broken,
Of genius now foolish, of divinity now insane.
And become your own regrets, your intellect
And purity discredited. Become
That creature which seemed to stalk you
In long ago nightmares dreamt
In nights much more innocent than this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One more poem:
Shimmering Thorns
(The Botany Lesson)
---------------------
The stem protrudes upwards and away
From its own flower beneath us, rising to
The diagonal sky. The leaves correlate
With their tapered parallelism, becoming
But petals of mismatched transparency.
The fruit implodes into its invisibility,
Into its threefold concentricity, rendering
Such seeds to be both sweet and elliptical.
The glow of this specimen denies its edge,
Accumulating within the spiral of such
A soul. And the earth under which
All seen is below, there it grows filthy
And wet and beautiful -- there it begins
To sprout then die then recreate anew
This perfume, recreate this distance spun
As if any profanity would define that flora
Of our conclusion, of our shimmering thorns.
Thanks,
Leroy Quet
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