Famous Blackberry Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Blackberry poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous blackberry poems. These examples illustrate what a famous blackberry poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Emerson, Ralph Waldo
...
Truculent with fraud and force,"
Said I, strolling through the pastures,
And along the riverside.
Caught among the blackberry vines,
Feeding on the Ethiops sweet,
Pleasant fancies overtook me:
I said, "What influence me preferred
Elect to dreams thus beautiful?"
The vines replied, "And didst thou deem
No wisdom to our berries went?"...Read more of this...
by
Kinnell, Galway
...
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks are very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackbe...Read more of this...
by
Plath, Sylvia
...Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flatteni...Read more of this...
by
Heaney, Seamus
...Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that ...Read more of this...
by
Belloc, Hilaire
...slip, one by one, --
The short hill grass, the mushrooms small milk-white,
Harebell and scabious and tormentil,
That blackberry and gorse, in dew and sun,
Bow down to; and the wind travels too light
To shake the fallen birch leaves from the fern;
The gossamers wander at their own will.
At heavier steps than birds' the squirrels scold.
The rich scene has grown fresh again and new
As Spring and to the touch is not more cool
Than it is warm to the gaze; and now...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...t his shoelaces. A bullfrog kept croaking in his watch
pocket and the air was filled with the sweet smell of ripe
blackberry bushes.
He wore trout fishing in America as a costume to hide
his own appearance from the world while he performed his
deeds of murder in the night.
Who would have expected?
Nobody !
Scotland Yard?
(Pouf !)
They were always a hundred miles away, wearing halibut-
stalker hats, looking under the dust.
Nobody ever found ou...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...nakes in their toothbrushes. Fortu-
n ately, I was never around when their bodies were taken awa!
I'd clean the blackberry hushes out of the lilac hushes.
Once in a while she'd give me some lilacs to take home and
they were always fine-looking lilacs, and I always felt good,
Walking down the street, holding the lilacs high and proud
like glasses of that famous children's drink: the good flower
wine .
I'd chop wood for her stove. She cooked on a...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...and stand in their uniforms around
this place, it would make us pretty nervous.
There's the warm sweet smell of blackberry bushes along
the path and in the late afternoon, quail gather around a dead
unrequited tree that has fallen bridelike across the path. Some-
times I go down there and jump the quail. I just go down there
to get them up off their butts. They're such beautiful birds.
They set their wings and sail on down the hill.
O h...Read more of this...
by
Whitman, Walt
...d a grain of sand, and the egg of the
wren,
And the tree-toad is a chef-d’oeuvre for the highest,
And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven,
And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,
And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any statue,
And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels,
And I could come every afternoon of my life to look at the farmer’s girl
boiling her iron tea-kettle and baking...Read more of this...
by
St Vincent Millay, Edna
...hat was all I had of you—
Saving half an hour.
Marred by greeting passing groups
In a cinder walk,
Near some naked blackberry hoops
Dim with purple chalk.
I remember three or four
Things you said in spite,
And an ugly coat you wore,
Plaided black and white.
Just a rainy day or two
And a bitter word.
Why do I remember you
As a singing bird?...Read more of this...
by
Whittier, John Greenleaf
...ees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches too;
All...Read more of this...
by
Thomas, Edward
...blackberries
Out of the hedges of Green Lane, the straight
Broad lane where now September hides herself
In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse.
To-day, where yesterday a hundred sheep
Were nibbling, halcyon bells shake to the sway
Of waters that no vessel ever sailed ...
It is a kind of spring: the chaffinch tries
His song. For heat it is like summer too.
This might be winter's quiet. While the glint
Of hollies dark in the swollen hed...Read more of this...
by
Lowell, Amy
...by, uncognisant
He worked. The Shadow came to haunt
Even his days. Sometimes quite plain
He saw on the wall the blackberry stain
Of his lady's picture. No sun was bright
Enough to dazzle that from his sight.
There were moments when he groaned to see
His life spilled out so uselessly,
Begging for boons the Shade refused,
His finest workmanship abused,
The iridescent bubbles he blew
Into lovely existence, poor and few
In the shadowed eyes. Then he would cur...Read more of this...
by
Betjeman, John
...er silver cool and still;
And there the Shade of Evil could
Stretch out at us from Shilla Mill.
Thick with sloe and blackberry, uneven in the light,
Lonely round the hedge, the heavy meadow was remote,
The oldest part of Cornwall was the wood as black as night,
And the pheasant and the rabbit lay torn open at the throat.
But when a storm was at its height,
And feathery slate was black in rain,
And tamarisks were hung with light
And golden sand was brown again,
Spring...Read more of this...
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