H e a r t   S o n s   &   H e a r t   D a u g h t e r s   of   A l l e n   G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m   H e a l t h   S p a :   R e p o r t   2 0 1 4 :   A r c h i v e s   E d i t i o n






The Berries I Never Picked


Believe not words they say, lowly gods' 

Pens power strikes lightning quick cross page 

But you stand callused hands, you soften sod 

Live bushes rise amongst sweet summer's sage


Labor long, sweat 'n' wet words perfectly 

Your dart like tongue such bends, bushes break 

Blood red like Picasso's woman worldly

Fall flower, hair jet black, retards our slake   


Amused muse music planted, dreams in-jest

Dynamic faith it takes, loving lines

Refuting fiend.  I dreamt of you; dark quest

We trod until sweet death, never in time


To find that child from past had writ he knew

Secrets of berries found in mountain snow.



[Originally published in NHS 1998, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs98/rhynhart.html.]