The Sunflowers (Ross Clinic 1960s) Poem by Sheena Blackhall
The Sunflowers (Ross Clinic 1960s)
If you stare long enough at a painting of Van Gogh's sunflowers
The heads turn into a pride of lions with fiery manes
Or Catherine wheels whirring in break neck agony
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They are all consuming suns
Swallowing galaxies of onlookers
They are venomous sea anemones
They are explosions of pus
All are cut off from the living
Dying in their yellow beauty
Their petals like loose teeth rattling in a painted skull
Image, and the power of the image
Like a spark in a tinder box
Exploding within the mind's imagination
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 4:50:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I enjoyed this poem. Proving that paintings are far more than what you first see, poetry is like that too, there are worlds and depths within them.