Galway Kinnell's compact "Blackberry Eating" is precise and perfect for at least two things:
1. For the last day in September
2. For word connoisseurs who gather round blogs on Poetry Friday.
I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
(Read the whole [very short] poem here, at Poets.org.)
Savor it, then sample all the Poetry Friday posts via Mr. Linky:
And thanks for stopping!
Thanks so much for hosting and for sharing this wonderful poem!ReplyDelete
Yum! Fresh blackberries and juicy words!ReplyDelete
Thanks for hosting!! I'm excited to get around to the roundup after two weeks away!
Oh, I have such good, good memories of blackberries. Upstate NY in the summer we would fill pails with them and turn them into jelly, jam, pie. And, the poem makes me want to eat one....to squinch one with the feeling of the exact, perfect word on my tongue for a poem.ReplyDelete
Thanks so much for hosting! I had such an amazing Friday last Friday I was excited to share it here this week. I get the best ideas for new poems from Poetry Friday friends.
Love that poem - thanks for sharing, Karen, and for hosting!ReplyDelete
What a succulent poem. Reminds me of picking blackberries in Wimbledon Common. :)ReplyDelete
At Alphabet Soup I'm featuring a chocolate poem by Leslea Newman. She's also sharing a fave chocolate recipe (my link goes live at 6 a.m. Friday).
Thanks so much for hosting this week!
This poem is divine, Karen. Squinched! How I love that. I don't have blackberry memories, but this poem puts me very much in mind of mulberry picking. Thank-you for sharing - and hosting. (I feel like I should have mulberry-stained fingers and chin right about now.)ReplyDelete
The poem you shared is pure September joy with its alliterative flair. Thank you for hosting Poetry Friday, Karen. I am sharing my post on traveling as I am designing my Summerscapes Gallery for the unveil on social media. If it is complete by tomorrow I will share it at your site.ReplyDelete
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I love your choice of poems for today. I saw Kinnell once and was absolutely stunned by the poems he could effortlessly recite. He recited poem after poem, and none were his own! I'm still in awe.ReplyDelete
Thanks so much for hosting, Karen. Yes - perfect choice! My hubby and I were exploring a bit in Bellingham last evening here (Poetry Camp - Yay!), and we were delighted to see so many blackberries ripening along a town trail. :0)ReplyDelete
Thanks for hosting and for sharing this delicious poem.ReplyDelete
Good grief, Mr. Linky kept giving me error codes and now I see myself up there three times! Not that I'm overexcited or anything. Sheesh. If you can possibly delete two of those links, Karen, I would appreciate it. Thank you for hosting today and for sharing this marvelous blackberry poem! "many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,/which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well" — gotta love that delicious language!ReplyDelete
Thank you so much for hosting, Karen, and the yummylicious poem! :)ReplyDelete
That's a wonderful Kinnell poem! Love all the crisp blackness of it. I heard him read here in Minneapolis several years ago--oh, gosh, I see that was almost 10 years ago! His language is beautiful.ReplyDelete
The poem brings back happy memories with one set of grandparents, long-sleeved shirts, and traipsing across the fields to the "patch". Thanks for it, Karen, and for hosting this last day of September.ReplyDelete
Oh those look delicious! Our blackberry season is May in my neck of the woods. We call them dewberries! Thanks for sharing this sweet poem and for hosting today, Karen!ReplyDelete
I've carried portions of that poem in my head for years, Karen. Thanks for bringing it all back for me. Today I have an original poem called "Beach Road Fox" at Crackles of Speech.ReplyDelete
As an old blackberry picker I thoroughly enjoyed the poem you shared. It is so true about the penalty, but the sweet harvest made it worthwhile. Thank you for hosting Karen.ReplyDelete
A perfect late September poem to share. Now I want some blackberry cobbler. Thank you for hosting, Karen.ReplyDelete
Juicily intriguing poem, Karen! Thanks for sharing it and for hosting us :-)ReplyDelete
We had a raspberry patch so I know all about the prickly stalks. But the berries are well worth it. Yum!ReplyDelete
Thanks for hosting, Karen.
Fun! Replace with raspberries, and you've described my afternoon. Thanks for hosting!ReplyDelete
Thanks for sharing this tasty poem today. And thanks for hosting!ReplyDelete
Thanks for hosting and for this lovely, lovely poem.ReplyDelete
Thank you for hosting!ReplyDelete
Happy Friday, everyone. Hope September was lovely - May October be even better!
Thanks for doing the roundup this week. I have some poems and videos about wild geese over at Wild Rose Reader.
I'm in a rush so I didn't have time to upload the videos--just provide links. Blogger changed the procedure. I'll try to figure it out later...when I get back home.
Happy Poetry Friday!
The most recent memory I have of picking blackberries, they were called "brambles," and they were on this little island in Scotland that had one-track roads and a lot of sheep and cyclists. It was a strangely lovely day - we weren't doused with rain, the midges were manageable. We picked loads and were a finger-stained and prickled and full of all kinds of lovely words like idyll and halcyon when it was done. What a lovely pairing of words and berries.ReplyDelete