“BlackBerry Winter”, a poem for Steve Isaak.

Blackberry Winter

–

It’s almost Spring, and the weather this week seems complacent, giving in to our hopes for gentler weather. Though it’s dicey to plant anything down here in the South before Easter, I have put in a long row of onions and hope for the best. Never had any luck with onions, because you have to ‘hill’ them, plant them shallow, and push the soil from their growing bulbs. I’ve done the hills and we expect rain this whole week, but as I sit here writing, the sun is coming out and rain seems will be spotty. I have trays of tomato seeds germinating on my painting table in front of a large window and tender sprouts are raising their leaves above the plastic.

I love Winter, but this one gave us nothing but cold weather, no snow and that was a major disappointment for me. The new woodstove has finally been learned by us, and now it’s not called “the worse stove ever”. There’s intelligence in these things and ours was wanting.

Steve Isaak is a poet friend from California of many years standing.  It is good to have poets as friends.  They nudge you in the direction of what you are not writing lately by their friendship, and they a generally, when their hearts are forgiving, loyal.

Lady Nyo

–

BLACKBERRY WINTER

–

 

It is Blackberry Winter

One last shot across

The bow of an emerging Spring.

 

Winter does not play fair,

It will not give up the ghost

Exit with a dignified bow

Preferring to show its rotting last tooth.

 

The blackberries are blooming

Kernels of lusty fruit,

Black as midnight

Sweet as a baby’s kiss,

Unavoidable staining of hands and mouths

To be shared with a snake or two down below.

 

The Easter planting is done

The earth knows your game

And blankets seeds

With dark, moist soil

Cozy enough to shelter tender life.

 

We will make blackberry wine

From Blackberry Winter.

The present chill will

Sweeten the fruit.

And will toast this short

Spell of Winter’s fading glory.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2015

“Blackberry Winter”, a poem

 April is Poetry Month.  There are some great online poets, unfortunately I don’t know of any local poets  I could recommend.  If  Atlanta is a town that embraces poetry, it has eluded me, so I  am going to be posting some of my favorite poets, in particular  William Stafford (1914-1993).  Stafford is a voice of American poetry and one who is not well known amongst many American poets.   His voice is a steady voice, born in the Midwest and the forests where he was doing alternative service during WWII.   Stafford is not well known to many but I have found  some Indian poets in Mumbai, etc. have studied him in university    and  found him to be an authentic American voice.  William Stafford speaks to our hearts with poetry of challenge and consolation.  We are enriched with reading his verse.

Lady Nyo

 

 

 

 

“Blackberry Winter” is a Southern term used when there is a cold spell in the mid spring and the blackberries are just beginning to bloom. They fruit around mid to late June.

This period is also called “Dogwood Winter”, etc.  I’ve shared blackberries in the North Carolina mountains with a cotton mouth snake that I didn’t notice was under the bushes, eating the blackberries, too.  I moved away quickly, supposing that there were more somewhere else.

Lady Nyo

 

BLACKBERRY WINTER

–

It is Blackberry Winter

One last shot across

The bow of an emerging Spring.

–

Winter does not play fair.

It will not give up the ghost

Exit with a dignified bow

preferring to show its last rotting tooth.

–

The blackberries are blooming.

White collar frills surrounding

Kernels of lusty fruit,

Soon to be black as midnight

Sweet as a baby’s kiss

Unavoidable staining of hands and mouths

To be shared with a snake or two down below.

–

The Easter planting is done

The earth knows Winter’s game

And blankets seed

With dark, moist soil

Cozy enough to shelter tender life.

–

We will make blackberry wine

From Blackberry Winter.

The present chill will

Sweeten the fruit

And we will give a toast

To Winter’s frayed glory.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2014

“Blackberry Winter” from “White Cranes of Heaven”,  Lulu.com, 2011

Spring, “Blackberry Winter”, “Plum Snow” and Rumi

Large Hollyhock and New Dawn rose

This spring has turned from destruction to outright, overwhelming beauty.  The roses are blooming, and yesterday, what I thought was an outrageous weed, turns out to be a giant hollyhock, growing straight through a white rose bush.  I almost pulled that ‘weed’ out a few months ago, but now am glad I didn’t.  I have tried to grow hollyhocks for years, scattering seed, but never had any luck.  This was a seed scattered 4 years ago, and I kept pulling it as it grew, thinking it was another obnoxious weed.   It outlasted my efforts and is now about 8 feet high.  Pink and gorgeous, but just blooming out.

Perhaps the tragedies to the north, south and west of us has made me appreciate this season more.  The budding beauties, the promise of rebirth, the renewal of things bare and dark a few, short months ago has overwhelmed me.  This miracle of life, with no batteries needed, no attention or commands is nature at her best.

I transplanted old, slow growing boxwood, real boxwood, not the Japanese junipers that are a good substitute for English boxwood down here, yesterday….switching them out with some new roses:  “April in Paris”.  I am a sucker for roses in catalogs and on the internet.  I am also a sucker for the roses at Home Depot, sitting in pots, yellowing leaves with black spot, and looking expectant and oh so homeless.  About now…I have no more room to put them in the soil, so they are transplanted into pots, which are more expensive than the roses….

Queen Elizabeth Rose

Perhaps it’s this expectancy of spring that makes snarly, grumpy people change their attitude and behavior.  I have noticed more smiles from strangers, a kinder behavior, perhaps a relaxing of tension from the long, very long winter.  There are nests of mockingbirds, bluejays, kittens being born, pollen, and as I write this a robin is uncovering the grave of a chipmunk I buried yesterday.

O, Pink Hollyhock!

I do think there is a softness with spring (my husband says there is a softness to my brain matter with spring…) and perhaps a good push to poetry.  There was a tiny crescent moon last night, what the Turks call “Allah’s fingernail”, and we will watch it grow night by night.  The sound of mourning doves as they settle in during dusk, the hoot of a Barred owl, the smell of the nightblooming datura….all these inspire poetry in the dark. During the morning we have enough for inspiration, and perhaps stopping our activities, going out into the gardens, the woods, even taking a walk somewhere different, will give the imagery necessary for poetry.

 

I came across a piece of Rumi yesterday….and I think Rumi must have loved nature as much as his fellow man.

 

	Come to the orchard in Spring.
	There is light and wine, and sweethearts
	in the pomegranate flowers.
	If you do not come, these do not matter.
	If you do come, these do not matter.

 What a gentle sentiment wrapped within these few words!

 

Two of my own poems follow….

PLUM BLOSSOM SNOW 

The present snowstorm of

White plum blossoms

Blinds me to sorrow.

They cascade over cheeks

Like perfumed, satin tears,

Too warm with the promise of life

To chill flesh.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010 from “White Cranes of Heaven”, at Lulu.com

And one  more…just because this will be posted for Oneshotpoetry.com on Tuesday.

–

BLACKBERRY WINTER

It is Blackberry Winter

One last shot across

The bow of an emerging Spring.

–

Winter does not play fair.

It will not give up the ghost

Exit with a dignified bow

Preferring to show its rotting last tooth.

–

The blackberries are blooming

Frills of white collars surrounding

Kernels of lusty fruit,

Fruit black as midnight

Sweet as a baby’s kiss,

Unavoidable staining of hands and mouths

To be shared with a snake or two down below.

–

The Easter planting is done

The earth knows Winter’s game

And blankets seed

With dark, moist soil

Cozy enough to shelter tender life.

–

We will make blackberry wine

From Blackberry Winter.

The present chill will

Sweeten the fruit

And we will give a toast

To the frayed glory of Winter.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011

 

 

Blackberry Winter, Tornado Relief and Charity Organizations

Blackberry Winter

We are getting a short spell of cold weather, right in the midst of spring.  This is so unusual for us, but there is a name for it:  Blackberry Winter.

Apparently it’s common in the South, but after many years living here, it’s the first time I have heard of this.  We are waking up to temps in the mid 30’s, and the high isn’t more than the mid 60’s. Quite a shock after some 80’s  over the past few weeks.

Nothing is normal with the weather now.  The tornadoes of last week have claimed our attention and some of the living.  My husband and I have decided  because of the price of gas  and the issues of going into a tornado area,  we will find some organization and make a donation.  The problem is what organization.

Usually we make a contribution to the Red Cross, but upon reading more about the salaries of the top executives, we are rather ‘chary’ about doing this again.  Does our money go to where we want it, or is it paying salaries for people who are well padded executives?  I think a lot of people are reconsidering where their hard earned money goes today in these issues.

Here in Atlanta, there has been a push for people to ’round up’ their grocery bills, mostly with Publix food stores.  This is fine, good, in fact, but we wanted to do something different.  Unfortunately, another charity organization, “Hosea’s Feed the Hungry and Homeless” which  has been promoted for tornado relief, has a big question mark over it’s operation right now.  Elisabeth Omilami, the executive director and daughter of Hosea Williams, the founder of this organization, sent out an email (using the organization’s corporate email), asking for donations for her daughter’s ‘nest fund’ for her upcoming marriage.  In an interview, Omilami was arrogant and dismissive of the reporter, saying she didn’t know that it went to the general mailing list (which is thousands of people), that it was supposed to go to her ‘extended family’.   Well, it started a firestorm of complaints from some people about that email.  It’s rather pushy and also not in great taste for her to ask for money for a ‘nest fund’ here.  And also makes people wonder where their money actually goes? I think people are right to worry about something like co-mingling of funds.  Someone from the Secretary of State’s office is now investigating this situation.  It could cost her organization a lot of supporters in the future.  These are serious issues and they should be investigated.  It’s sad, because this organization has aided the homeless and poor families in the past.

Watching TV the other night I was struck by a short interview of a man who owns a roofing business in Tucker, Georgia.  He and his wife had just loaded up their truck and taken supplies to Pleasant Grove, Alabama, where they have relatives.  I contacted Jason and talked to him yesterday morning.  I was mightily impressed by his attitude towards what he was doing, and he is a very humble soul.  He told me a few emails that his wife put on Facebook started it all, and they felt compelled to do what they could.  They couldn’t believe the response. After talking to him, I felt good about sending our contribution to the Pleasant Grove Baptist Church in Alabama.  Jason told me to mark the check for tornado relief, make a copy of it for tax purposes and supplied an address.  I feel confident that our money will go to where it will make a difference, and not to a nest fund.

If anyone wants the address, or Jason’s email or phone number you can contact me privately.  At least I feel now we can make a difference with our small donation.  Pleasant Grove was destroyed, and many people killed.  I am not a Baptist, nor actually a Christian, but it really doesn’t matter.  We can be, my husband and I, part of that stream of humanity who can help.

Lady Nyo

–

BLACKBERRY WINTER

–

It is Blackberry Winter

One last shot across

The bow of  emerging Spring.

Winter does not play fair,

Will not give up the ghost

Exit with a dignified bow

Preferring to show its rotting last tooth

–

The blackberries are blooming

Lacy white collars surrounding

Kernels of lusty fruit,

Fruit black as midnight

Sweet as a baby’s kiss,

Unavoidable staining of hands and mouths

To be shared with a snake or two down below.

–

The Easter planting is done

The earth knows Winter’s game

And blankets seed

With dark, moist soil

Cozy enough to shelter tender life.

–

We will make blackberry wine

From Blackberry Winter.

The present chill will

Sweeten the fruit

And we will give a toast

To Winter’s frayed glory.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011