An Old Fashioned Blackberry
weird as it sounds when my thoughts wield their all mighty hold
cast inflictions twist meaning and imply the truth of whats told
I resorted to reason which seems to be a contradiction of terms
of engagement with the enemy and looked for alternative turns
loops of neuronal contraptions needed to be tackled and changed
challenged and embraced until I thought they had been rearranged
its easy to see the set up for failure in endless loops of my mind
nothing was different however and demonic vultures still dined
on scraps of delusion and aberrations of what should be reason
self inflicted doubts never ceased to cast a spell of high treason
with me the traitor perpetrator victim and foe smack in the middle
propaganda and fake news on stage magnifying mere tarradiddle
in false belief that I would manage to win such an unequal battle
but the rational bogles sounded a crescendo of my own death rattle
there was no escape from destruction and permanent incarceration
breaking out of soul’s prison required a completely novel narration
with belligerence out of the question and answers not anyway near
in anger anxiety depression there must be reprieve from all that fear
at first there was no mileage in surrender but I needed a sanctuary
found myself in carefree childhood in a hedge of abundant blackberry
not easy when you compete with others who took the fruit by the street
and the only ones left are the red ones not even close to being sweet
but this was a mind game self hypnosis affair of emotions over matter
a dream world to soothe reality an attempt to make everything better
once I engaged I could feel the sun on my shoulders or rain on my back
parched or soaked but caught in a dream state gave myself some slack
thorns and endorphins entered the moment and the windbreak did open
fantastic creations danced with all sorts of emotions previously broken
bleeding scratches on my hands went deeper inside when compared
to the rumination and dire doubts maybe I could succeed once I dared
the juice on my fingers ran down my arms and tattooed all that pleasure
like ink from a quill featherlight from letting go and could see a treasure
a day in the kitchen with Mom and the kids making pastries and parfait
the joy of stealing dough and dipping the tongue into the jam on the tray
mixed with whipped cream or cinnamon custard as desert or main course
manna from heaven natural jelly’s joy ambrosia straight from the source
even clearing the table and washing the dishes hold magnificent memories
of kind times innocence and marvel straight from Eden and paradise trees
I learnt to take refuge from overthinking now resort to such imagination
overcome dissolution and frustration and enlist more emotional stimulation
at times I am the blackberry and scratch my logic into firm submission
even spikes give me hope love kindness compassion and realigned vision
18th August 2020
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment