Poppy poems! At last I’m bundling a batch of verse celebrating my favorite blooms. Poppies. Papaveraceae. Coquelicots… Most of these poppy poems started out as Instagram posts inspired, at least in part, by daily snapshots of poppies blooming in Rosslyn’s gardens. For this reason I’ll include links at the end of the poem if you’re interested in seeing the original posts. Just click the link and a new window will open with the poem as it originally appeared with accompanying image(s).
Haiku Poppy Poems
Almost ephemeral brevity, stark minimalism, and — at best — a tingly eureka moment overlap haiku’s distinctive hallmark. Delicate. Vigorous. As unlikely a juxtaposition as poppies. Exuding a fragility and sparseness, but remarkably robust and resilient, the poppy is the haiku of flowers. And so I initiate this slowly evolving post with a collection of haiku poppy poems.
·•·
From velvety spokes
a supernova outburst,
ivory crushed silk. (@rosslynredux)
·•·
Unfettered, unfazed
by cloudburst or thunderclap,
sensuous stalwart. (@rosslynredux)
·•·
Papaver flashbacks
bloom in frosted flowerbeds,
daydream confections. (@rosslynredux)
·•·
Come coquelicot,
come crinkly crepe paper kin,
come and laugh and lift. (@rosslynredux)
·•·
Poppy blossoms pop
into crepe paper fireworks
and flamenco skirts. (@rosslynredux)
Longer Poppy Poems
While poppies and haikus strike me as cousins (or perhaps even as one and the same being at different stages of transmogrification), there are times when a poppy poem’s florescence exceeds the restraint of micropoetry. There are instances in which a poppy poem’s petals bloom into a lyrical sketch or rhapsody.
·•·
Amongst vegetables,
fruits, herbs, and spices
pop, pop, populate
floral fireworks,
flamenco skirts, and
crepe’s crinkly kin,
the coquelicots.
So sensuous, so
beyond beguiling,
so delicate yet
robust, resilient,
as exotic and
mysterious as
the whispering wind. (@rosslynredux)
Poppy Portraits (Visual Poetry!)
Sometimes a poem is crafted out of words, letters and spaces coalescing around a moment, an experience, a sentiment. Other times poetry is so visual that an image better conveys the poem. Please think of my “poppy portraits” as visual poems. Maybe you’ll agree that visual poems can sometimes eclipse the letter-tethered lot!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CgSOV5-g-WL/
She short video in the post above essays to distill the grace of a poppy in motion, buffeted by the breeze, petals fluttering, stem swaying. I’m not 100% pleased with this series of moving images, but it’s a start. I’m still learning the nuances of video, especially phone video. I’ll get better. Hopefully soon!
https://www.instagram.com/p/B0a6ufKgWpj/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
I’m as smitten with the poppy pods as the blooms. Once the papery petals yield to the wind or gravity, a handsome hull plump with poppy seeds remains. Ample. Memorial. Geometric.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B0GlMkNAh-1/
There’s something profoundly compelling in that image, don’t you think? A mystery unraveling. Or re-raveling. Wonder is summoned, and it answers eagerly.
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