#blackberry
I work at the edge, where the light of Awen beckons,
Drawing me back to the warmth of this earthly life.
Foraging into uncharted realms, brambles cross my face,
thick and wild,
An unyielding maze where the shadows of my demons linger;
they are a little messed up.
Yearning to retreat, to find solace on familiar ground.
Visions of a goddess pulse an existence, so inspired
I stand tall, defenses at the ready,
Nurturing the delicate blooms of change within.
In the quiet moments of within myself, I gather strength,
For transformation requires time, patience, and grace
I humble my mind.
One day, I will rise, petals unfurling to the sun,
To bring forth my gifts, sharing the beauty of my journey
With the world the seed is broadcast, as I climb steadily from the dark.
Mar 16, 2025
Mar 16, 2025 at 1:49 PM UTC
Huge thorny sweet chestnuts bloom
As blackberries wither on the briar
Lightly dusted in silver and sagging
Off the stalks.
The path lined with oak and bramble.
Wonderful hues of brown and gold
Are now littered against green.
The air is cool and moist
As autumn gathers around.
Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 7:28 AM UTC
The sigh of things gone,
echoes of hope and the
small prickles of a blackberry
as I turn it on my tongue
between knives of teeth.
I reach further into the bracken,
The tangle of thorns caressing, hooking themselves into my clothes,
These are familiar pains,
Small scrapes of memory.
Petrichor, a reminder of our last walk
The clouds, tremendous waves breaking across the sky, coming storm
The plucked magnolia blossom wilting in my hand
How bitter it tasted on our tongues
I saw the berries, then, crimson unripe jewels
Vowed a Persephone return when they had turned onyx
And came back alone while you languished
In your underworld.
I can find sweetness amid the pain,
What have you found
To sustain yourself ?
Aug 8, 2021
Aug 8, 2021 at 1:44 PM UTC
All hail children of the waning summer
Sour and prickly, soft and sweet
These sun-wild children wander free
Blackberry stains on callused feet
NCL September 2019
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 11:10 PM UTC
One golden August day
Walking along the narrow lane
With ice cream pail in hand
Over the lush woodsy land
Looking for brambles of blackberries
Thirsting for their sweet juice in my belly
And nature's kindness does bestow
Along the lane unhindered they grow
Blackberries hang swollen on their vines
The first one a sweet addictive wine
Soon forgotten are the thorns
Each berry its own delectable reward
ALesiach © 07/26/2019
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
#*The Indian black berries
Bitter sour, tad bit sweet
Humble fruit
Low in cost
Benefits high
Sold everywhere in the month of June
Bought it off from a vendor off the street
Especially sold these
Segregated in three baskets
Each priced as per the size, way too high from the market price
Quality not compromised
Does life treat you the same
Quality quantity, a few adjectives to name*#
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 4:28 AM UTC
Stop looking at me
as if I’m some
- thing
to swallow up
or spit out.
A berry, black, swollen
ready to be chosen for your
consumption. I sour on your
tongue, assaulting your
taste buds because you
thought the only
- thing
that mattered was the purplish black,
the juice that produced for your
pleasure, my ripe, plump bumps,
my green hands
outstretched ready and there, for you?
Still you pluck and **** and stare
and **** me up with your
barren compliments stripping
my sweet substance
one by one
by one, you
extract it out
of me
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 4:29 PM UTC
#
Dog days of summer
How doth thou steal
Sweet blackberry plunder
How will I ever heal?
Cars passed fast
breeze swishes trees
As if spirits
Floating so free
A whisper they hiss
run faster than fastest
to grocery store produce bliss
give those blackberries
a little kiss
#
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
a tree
I hank
here this
fallen arc
yet the
loop in
terry that
a singularity
present now
go to
New Mexico
and the
ennui divided
there with
scrambled eggs
and this
dark star
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
Three meager blackberries
not quite formed,
plucked too soon from the vine.
Like us,
you were not quite ripe.
But your sister is with us now.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 3:41 AM UTC
A sweltering run through the pastoral streets
Past the chemical plant and decrepit machinery
A couple miles trekked for nature's delicious treats
Incardine specks and black dots poke through thick greenery
Step over the ditch into the smokey mud
Stick your hand in carefully, the cost just a little blood
A blackberry picked from the protective thorn
is sweeter than one picked from the grocery store
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
i fall in love with everyone
and my lips are never chapped
so now i eat cinnamon toast
and i paint the sun
with blackberry juice
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 2:41 PM UTC
He's been an orphan since he was sixteen
That's when his parents kicked him out because he was so mean .
He's been living on the steps of every backdoor
What he can't get begging he will steal for
Once he was his mother's pride and joy
That was before he started drugs and there was no wonder anymore .
His skin turned hard and his heart harder still
His eyes became vacant lots lacking any will
He was living for a shot in the dark
Instead someone shot him down by the park
He died with a silly grin on his face
Don't worry there's someone who will take his place
Just another American dream disgraced
Another person slips off the face
He was dead before he hit the ground
His life ended with out a sound
And every day we say I don't care
He wasn't going to make it anywhere
All he was good at was getting high
Now he's gone and no one's asking why
His skin was as hard as a memory
He kept then in a bottle of pills he got free
No one even knows his name
Bud or Buster , it was all the same
No one even knows his name
They put him in a black bag that's the shame
He'll never be around again
And no one really cares
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 12:48 AM UTC
It's the taste of blackberries
on your lips
The bittersweetness of
not-quite-ripe fruit.
I cannot forget the
sentiment
from the brush
of your fingertips
against my chin
After picking berries
from
these bushes.
I can almost say:
that a memory as gentle
as your kiss
ignites a tenderness
inside me
and the thought that
love isn't so forceful
when subtle.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
His jealousy is like a poison in my blood
I can feel my limbs getting heavy
in my attempts to ease it
but it just gets stronger.
My limbs are like dead weight
sinking sinking deeper
drowning in the water
unable to rise
unable to feel.
I fall to the ground
so deep I can feel the hounds of hell breathing
breathing me in
the way I breathed in the smell of my coffee
the smell of his blackberry tea.
He prefers tea to coffee
it has a better taste to him
he only likes iced coffee.
His presence has gone silent
he no longer speaks.
I don’t hear from him
he’s done
he just disappeared.
It’s like it never happened.
I never watched him play
with his tea cup after it was gone.
He never kissed me.
He kissed me...
Maybe he did have a right to be jealous of him.
Maybe it made sense...
I just don’t know.
I wish his presence would come back.
I enjoy talking to him
seeing him
being around him.
But I also enjoy being around the other.
How can I expect him to not be jealous
when I know how he feels,
but I still tell him when I hang out with another guy?
Like Eli and his blackberry tea
his blackberry tea and my coffee.
My coffee I sipped at to make the moment last longer.
I’d been so scared he wouldn’t like me.
I was already wondering why he wanted to hang out with me
he’s a freshman in college I'm a sophomore in high school.
The only conversations we had before then
was always about poetry
poetry
poetry
poetry.
But what did I do?
Why did he just stop?
All I did was say I couldn’t hang out that night.
He asked at eleven at night.
I was already lounging around.
I was watching movies.
I had to work in the morning.
Why did he wait till eleven at night to ask?
I was free all day
but he waits till its dark and I can’t leave.
Why does that give him reason to ignore me?
I guess two can play at that game
but its a little harder on my end.
When you’re already being ignored its hard to ignore them
especially when you just want them to talk to you.
Talk to me.
Talk to you.
What am I talking about?
If he messaged right now
we all know I’d answer.
What’s a girl to do
when she wants to be around the person
that’s ignoring her?
Before you ask
no, I don’t like him like that
at least I don’t think
I don’t know.
I don’t know what I think.
I don’t know anything.
I don’t know me.
I don’t know you.
I don’t know her .
and I apparently don’t know him either.
But I know the other.
He’s still there
watching quietly in his jealous stupor.
He’s still talking to me
but that has made no difference.
Especially when he quotes my own poems back to me
“‘This inexpressible, uncontrollable feeling’
*for you
you
only you
no one else
just you*”
I don’t know how to respond to that.
how does he expect me to respond?
I don’t even know anymore!
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
Blackberry kisses,
stinging strawberry cuts,
and raspberry colored veins.
If only the shape of your lips
had been as perfect as the
cherry I'm ******* on.
Unfortunately, the golden apple
hue that your soul radiated
was only momentary.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Sunshine on delicate pink
warms and sweetens blackberry nectar.
Scents of nectar
attracts honeybees.
Amber stripes and transparent wings
weave a tapesry on my canvas.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC