Canker Blossom

Upon the quivering and

putrid petals lay maggots.

Curling and uncurling parasites

of the leeching variety.

Lovers to the odorous weed,

they spoon around its leaves.

Tender, soft, and sliming flesh

wriggles ever closer.

 

What a garish sight!

What a vulgar display!

That such lovesick fools as these

wriggles on bellies as worms,

willing to do the bidding

of their foul flower.

Anything for it,

so that they could be close.

They repose in a repulsing rapture.

 

The canker blossom’s smell

drives all but the worms away.

Its odor clings to the throat,

burning as passionately as fire

and its dawdling of desires.

Nothing can rid of it.

The canker’s smell is never forgotten.

Something died inside of it,

and not a thing will

blossom about it.

Reviews

[Inyourshadow]

Upon a Midsummer nights Dream

~ “O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!”

there lies the rub for what is this canker-blossom? A sore? A w***e? A flower? A little of them all. For if we read deep enough into this piece we see the underlaying intent of men and the one thing they desire the bloom of womanhood, a smell that insites the senses to forget all reason and inhale deep. As for worms are these men or mere suggestion of one part of man whom does all the thinking lol. I love how we can read this as is, a poem to a flower with such a smell as all avoid it or if one wishes a poem about the relationship between a man a woman and the act of lust.
I love it,
keep em' coming