#raspberries - Hello Poetry

I remember when, As a child, My mum would "blow raspberries," In my face... She would tell me: I would laugh, and laugh, and giggle, until the craze meant I couldn’t wiggle or scream, from paralysis. I remember when, As a teen, I would blow raspberries, In my cousins’ faces, As I would babysit them And play hide-and-chase Until they came out screamin’ I remember when, As an adult, I would blow raspberries, In my nieces’ faces, Until they would dream of, and scream for, wild raspberries. I remember when... All of that seemed not so long ago —

0

Sep 20, 2025

Sep 20, 2025 at 8:35 PM UTC

bekahalle

"She blows raspberries"

I remember when, As a child, My mum would "blow raspberries," In my face... She would tell me: I would laugh, and laugh, and giggle, until the craze meant I couldn’t wiggle or scream, from paralysis. I remember when, As a teen, I would blow raspberries, In my cousins’ faces, As I would babysit them And play hide-and-chase Until they came out screamin’ I remember when, As an adult, I would blow raspberries, In my nieces’ faces, Until they would dream of, and scream for, wild raspberries. I remember when... All of that seemed not so long ago —

25

Patiences of youthful kisses...? Do we assume; a happier honor? Smiles and hugs, have become a list's *** where, do we love a fist for sanity, or... Rage, is a child a pile of **** Sour knowledge, of a rolling hiccough Sticks and stones, with a star to fancy lip... Catch on it, or, make a liberty a tomorrow's such Mean, to measure a life with blood... **** and pluck, isn't it sunshine's fear? Quiet faces, that admit youth Is more than rain, to openly near... Rage, I have you by the panic Pursue a wash, and dispose of a waste Where has become, a sorts to seek... Share guarantee, of a wish in want's presence A satisfied kiss...? Worth one more, identity in a handful of grace Time, is leaving for an angel's wish Where suicide can keep your today's pace...

0

Jul 5, 2025

Jul 5, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC

david-hilburn

Is, Can Fallen Angel's Come From Salem? (Guns...)

Patiences of youthful kisses...? Do we assume; a happier honor? Smiles and hugs, have become a list's *** where, do we love a fist for sanity, or... Rage, is a child a pile of **** Sour knowledge, of a rolling hiccough Sticks and stones, with a star to fancy lip... Catch on it, or, make a liberty a tomorrow's such Mean, to measure a life with blood... **** and pluck, isn't it sunshine's fear? Quiet faces, that admit youth Is more than rain, to openly near... Rage, I have you by the panic Pursue a wash, and dispose of a waste Where has become, a sorts to seek... Share guarantee, of a wish in want's presence A satisfied kiss...? Worth one more, identity in a handful of grace Time, is leaving for an angel's wish Where suicide can keep your today's pace...

20

I ate some raspberries today They were cold And sweet And soft But their seeds get stuck in my teeth They just sit And **** And poke Until I get them out

0

Jan 28, 2022

Jan 28, 2022 at 5:26 PM UTC

rebrandedidiot

Raspberries

I ate some raspberries today They were cold And sweet And soft But their seeds get stuck in my teeth They just sit And **** And poke Until I get them out

9

What a surprise! A single bud on a rose tree, Blushing to open, As glistening dew bathe it. I moved down the orchard, Ah! The Rose Family (Rosaceae), Apples (malus), Raspberries (rubus), Strawberries (fragaria). Having a morning chat, In awe to see the blooming of their cousin,the rose, Their leaves trembling with joy. Roses are red my love, So are their cousins Prunus, Plums and cherries, Red as fresh blood, Nodding in the gleaming sun. What a get-together!

0

Jun 20, 2018

Jun 20, 2018 at 3:22 AM UTC

salmabanu-hatim

A Surprise In An Orchard

What a surprise! A single bud on a rose tree, Blushing to open, As glistening dew bathe it. I moved down the orchard, Ah! The Rose Family (Rosaceae), Apples (malus), Raspberries (rubus), Strawberries (fragaria). Having a morning chat, In awe to see the blooming of their cousin,the rose, Their leaves trembling with joy. Roses are red my love, So are their cousins Prunus, Plums and cherries, Red as fresh blood, Nodding in the gleaming sun. What a get-together!

18

Cherries and poppies raspberries and strawberries and fallen red leaves, a burning memory.

0

May 8, 2018

May 8, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC

druzzy_any

I see red

Cherries and poppies raspberries and strawberries and fallen red leaves, a burning memory.

4

scorning sun bursts into the aisles of graying curly waves, punching yellow teeth and candied sweets with the green of loving laughter that i've not heard in years. you taught our fingers to bleed of bramble dew. so sticky in our attempts to keep Genevieve's crystal filled but, clear of improper pounds. collected ounces that rudely overflow, are picked with mudded, forested feet. consumed so clean and sweet, from thorns between the brush, the aisles buzzed of summers paths that only lead us where we knew. through the scales and passed the cords where drying life would heat our warmth, nights would drop with echoing sounds like trains slowly passing through our country's vacant crossing. you voluminous sap of unaccounted ooze. you sweet maple so never barren or dull. you flame of northern light. take me back to the path we passed where cords are dried to burn where frogs croak in Côté's creek where my memories live and yearn

0

Mar 30, 2017

Mar 30, 2017 at 4:12 AM UTC

fern

Bloodied Bramble Dew

scorning sun bursts into the aisles of graying curly waves, punching yellow teeth and candied sweets with the green of loving laughter that i've not heard in years. you taught our fingers to bleed of bramble dew. so sticky in our attempts to keep Genevieve's crystal filled but, clear of improper pounds. collected ounces that rudely overflow, are picked with mudded, forested feet. consumed so clean and sweet, from thorns between the brush, the aisles buzzed of summers paths that only lead us where we knew. through the scales and passed the cords where drying life would heat our warmth, nights would drop with echoing sounds like trains slowly passing through our country's vacant crossing. you voluminous sap of unaccounted ooze. you sweet maple so never barren or dull. you flame of northern light. take me back to the path we passed where cords are dried to burn where frogs croak in Côté's creek where my memories live and yearn

21

As a footnote, I’ve always held a certain regard for those plentiful fruits. Raspberries. Small and juicy and sweet. Quick and easy. Now, it’s apples on the other hand I heavily despise. To eat an apple is to make a commitment. Society generally frowns upon those who eat half an apple, just to toss out the rest. And most people are not exactly bargaining for your leftovers once they’re brown and teeth marked. Apple eating is a long and rigorous ordeal. Halfway through, the raw parts begin to stain or dry and when you’re finally finished, you’ve still got to deal with that core and the skin that’s stuck in your teeth. Herein, apples and commitments become synonymous. Convenience, the antonym. Raspberries, however, are miniature, and zesty, and only last for a matter of seconds. Not unlike ideal high school relationships.

0

Feb 12, 2016

Feb 12, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC

Maples

Raspberry Science Sass

As a footnote, I’ve always held a certain regard for those plentiful fruits. Raspberries. Small and juicy and sweet. Quick and easy. Now, it’s apples on the other hand I heavily despise. To eat an apple is to make a commitment. Society generally frowns upon those who eat half an apple, just to toss out the rest. And most people are not exactly bargaining for your leftovers once they’re brown and teeth marked. Apple eating is a long and rigorous ordeal. Halfway through, the raw parts begin to stain or dry and when you’re finally finished, you’ve still got to deal with that core and the skin that’s stuck in your teeth. Herein, apples and commitments become synonymous. Convenience, the antonym. Raspberries, however, are miniature, and zesty, and only last for a matter of seconds. Not unlike ideal high school relationships.

5