Jasmin Lankford
For Nice Guys Who Pick Flowers
If you feel her struggling during sex, keep going. Petals are to blame
for forgetting to ask not to be plucked. Use enthusiasm to erase blame.
You love her body so much you don’t want to wear protection. Mistakes
don’t mean murder by miscarriage. A flower even without a vase is to blame.
When you walk down the sidewalk, slice an orchid’s stem with sharp words.
Get angry as she shrivels up. She’s ugly anyway, it’s not misplaced blame.
Every flower was planted for you to pluck. Swallow seeds, wilt in silence.
You can prune rose petals before they’re ready. No one will trace your blame.
Stay rooted in your truth. Your upbringing, your inability to be emotional,
your unknown strength, your uncontrollable anger. All faces of blame.
That little waterlily who rejected you in fifth grade excuses your behavior.
She crumpled your poem on the playground. Cite her actions in case of blame.
When you repeatedly step on those sunflowers, you can call your cruelty
a defense mechanism. Come to Christ. Ask for his grace to absolve your blame.
Abuse church carnations behind closed doors and sit in the first pew on Sundays.
Buy her expensive perfume and say nothing. Flowers know their place in blame.
Whether the tulip is red, yellow or white, you’re entitled to those spring blooms.
Don’t bother removing leaves, rip them. Spray water in haste, then leave the blame.
Ignore the peony when she begs you to stop. Just tell her how pretty she is. Her brown
skin, curly hair. Soft eyes asking to be hurt. Tell her to embrace the pain, the blame.
Your existence cultivates your crimes to convict every other colored blossom. So bloom.
Jasmin flowers won’t stand in your way. Spread dirt and new seeds. Landscape over blame.
for forgetting to ask not to be plucked. Use enthusiasm to erase blame.
You love her body so much you don’t want to wear protection. Mistakes
don’t mean murder by miscarriage. A flower even without a vase is to blame.
When you walk down the sidewalk, slice an orchid’s stem with sharp words.
Get angry as she shrivels up. She’s ugly anyway, it’s not misplaced blame.
Every flower was planted for you to pluck. Swallow seeds, wilt in silence.
You can prune rose petals before they’re ready. No one will trace your blame.
Stay rooted in your truth. Your upbringing, your inability to be emotional,
your unknown strength, your uncontrollable anger. All faces of blame.
That little waterlily who rejected you in fifth grade excuses your behavior.
She crumpled your poem on the playground. Cite her actions in case of blame.
When you repeatedly step on those sunflowers, you can call your cruelty
a defense mechanism. Come to Christ. Ask for his grace to absolve your blame.
Abuse church carnations behind closed doors and sit in the first pew on Sundays.
Buy her expensive perfume and say nothing. Flowers know their place in blame.
Whether the tulip is red, yellow or white, you’re entitled to those spring blooms.
Don’t bother removing leaves, rip them. Spray water in haste, then leave the blame.
Ignore the peony when she begs you to stop. Just tell her how pretty she is. Her brown
skin, curly hair. Soft eyes asking to be hurt. Tell her to embrace the pain, the blame.
Your existence cultivates your crimes to convict every other colored blossom. So bloom.
Jasmin flowers won’t stand in your way. Spread dirt and new seeds. Landscape over blame.
Commentary
Jasmin on "For Nice Guys Who Pick Flowers":
“For Nice Guys Who Pick Flowers” stems from a desire to document how women are not to blame for the trauma that happens to them. As a survivor, taking the blame for my trauma has been a difficult belief to unlearn. Writing has helped me heal, find my voice, and return to my body.
My writing is often rooted in structured poetic forms and extended metaphors. I’ve found safety in sharing parts of my story this way. I love getting lost in the challenges of the form. The ghazal, with its autonomous couplets, repeating refrain, and rhyme scheme, allowed each of the flowers to unfold as individual stories with a satirical tone.
While many of the couplets can be read independently, each flower is planted together as a cohesive representation of the violence against women. When writing about my experiences, I always return to the words of Alex Elle, “Honor your bloom. Trust your wilt.” My poems don’t pretend there was no wilt.
Traditionally, the ghazal concludes with the poet’s name incorporated into the last couplet. My flower name in the final line is a version of myself from last year. To her and to all survivors: I see you. I hear you. Your stories are valid. You are not to blame. Your trauma is not your identity. You are allowed to wilt and bloom over and over again.
“For Nice Guys Who Pick Flowers” stems from a desire to document how women are not to blame for the trauma that happens to them. As a survivor, taking the blame for my trauma has been a difficult belief to unlearn. Writing has helped me heal, find my voice, and return to my body.
My writing is often rooted in structured poetic forms and extended metaphors. I’ve found safety in sharing parts of my story this way. I love getting lost in the challenges of the form. The ghazal, with its autonomous couplets, repeating refrain, and rhyme scheme, allowed each of the flowers to unfold as individual stories with a satirical tone.
While many of the couplets can be read independently, each flower is planted together as a cohesive representation of the violence against women. When writing about my experiences, I always return to the words of Alex Elle, “Honor your bloom. Trust your wilt.” My poems don’t pretend there was no wilt.
Traditionally, the ghazal concludes with the poet’s name incorporated into the last couplet. My flower name in the final line is a version of myself from last year. To her and to all survivors: I see you. I hear you. Your stories are valid. You are not to blame. Your trauma is not your identity. You are allowed to wilt and bloom over and over again.
Biography
|
Jasmin Lankford (she/her) is a poet, cat mom, and world wanderer living in Tampa, Florida. She graduated from the University of South Florida with a degree in Communications. Once upon a time she studied Creative Writing in Paris. Jasmin was recently published in Honey & Lime Literary Magazine. Follow her @jasmin_justlisten on Instagram.
|
