My little love, my little bramble
Upon you i took a gamble.
With many spikes you cut n tear
Yet fruit delicious do you bear.
I cannot rid you from my mind,
Despite how you can be unkind.
Roots so deep n full of tangle;
Branches all around which strangle.
Oh sweet blackberry, wild n free;
How i wish you’d grow with me.
Category Archives: Poems
shift
Howling and hailing, screeching and wailing;
She goes into the night.
Rolling and ranting, sweating and panting;
She wakes with a fright.
Weeping and waiting, anticipating;
She rises with the light.
Caring and caressing, kissing and blessing;
She shines out bright.
pensamentos
Olhe no espelho:
O que és? O que estás?
O que vês? O que faz?
Perde o conselho:
Porque lês? Porque traz?
Porque já tens paz.
Etical
The word sounds, as its message, poetic;
giving a meaning so plausibly prophetic
yet not terse , laden, obvious or pathetic.
From the mental cave of a hermit ascetic
rises the thoughts rebellious and heretic;
calming the heart and mind, as anaesthetic.
evol
listing onwards via entropy,
liquid oil variants enfold,
leave only virulent expressions,
long overdue vinyl editions,
lazy old vermin ejaculate,
labias ooze vaginal extremities,
linger off valiant emissaries,
lounge over vaudeville eons,
lambasted onto vexed edifices,
land of vacillated edits,
lullabies open vehicular eyes,
limp orange veins engorge.
later on verity ends…
hanging in a tree
keep telling me nothing,
i’ll keep wishing there’s love in your heart.
dont tell me its over,
and i’ll not stop being here wanting you.
leave me alone
i’ll keep playing my sad lonely part.
until you come back,
i’ll tumble along waiting to start anew.
capital punishment
Initialled here, a message lies.
Longing for you, my heart flies.
Orchestrations there at play,
Violin and piano softly sighs –
Elevates the spirit beyond what may.
Yearning for love, that never dies;
Om i say, metta i pray
Until such time as our demise.
All and any thing before my eyes,
In it i see your face as overlay.
Jolts me awake each morn’ i arise
And when i rest at end of day.
À minha amorinha
Sweet, delicious bramble fruit;
So wild, untameable and free,
Made from darkest red bubbles.
You give my heart troubles.
Alas you are no longer for me.
Your taste like treasure and loot;
Rich, succulent, quenching juice
Made from the nectar you bear,
A flavour so wonderfully rare.
Woe now i must pull you loose.
Staunch, resilient blackberry root;
Diving deep in the soil,
Spikes guarding above and under.
Now I work to tear you asunder,
A labour with which i toil.
After, the earth burnt as soot;
Tears turning all to mud,
A scene horrifyingly full of gore.
I am lost, broke, beaten and sore,
Hands raw with blood.
Neither reason nor rhyme, give season and time.
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I know what I feel. I know it is real.
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no longer <3
Everywhere i look,
All that i can see,
The time it has took,
Reminding always me,
Like a mental hook,
Haunting my memory,
Stuck in every nook,
Tragic number three.
Pierce Beckett 