Iron Poet #17

beegirlIron Poet #17

Theme: A stinging insect to its victim
Meter: Free verse

No more than 36 lines!

Philosophy Embraced – J. Jack Sweitzer

With pride,
I withdraw.

The barb that defines my being
still wet, dripping with poison.

My existence brings death.

On Being a Bee – Wes Choc

Wasn’t my idea … I’m just a bee
Thinkin’ fast’n’furious, and y’can easily see
I’m up-front, goal-oriented, camo’d, set to be …
Purposeful … yet, pointedly prepared to be … me!

Y’see, m’mission is high’n noble …never exploitation
Seasonally crafted … habitual … a revered consecration
Capturing prizes, my trophy? … fervid insemination
Spreading the Word zealously … it’s called “Holy pollination!”

Because of these avid vigors … and my unwav’ring drive
Tempting blossoms seduce me … so that animals survive
But no, I’m no lawbreaker … even humans can thrive
Cuz it is I who does the magic for keeping plants alive.

Yet, here am I … suff’ring close calls and missed swats
Losing my focus, my draw, … even those comft’ble yellow dots
So when you choose to stop this reverent calling … these hallowed plots …
…explains why stinging you is my only option … thus my inescapable thoughts.

Long Live the Queen! – Melinda Tauler

When the girl arrived, we could hear her tromping along as we went about our daily tasks.
I could see her from my post, the sun glinting on her hair as it hung in auburn curls.
She smelled of fruit and I became tempted to forego my visit to collect nectar from the wildflowers.
If nothing else, a bee is obedient until the end.
However, when a young and curious child visited the hive yesterday, all that changed.
I flew out like I did every day, ready to gather my quota until I couldn’t fight the allure any longer.  I had to investigate.
As I began to change my direction, I noticed that she also changed her behavior.  She was pointing in the air, ready to inspect the hive up close.
POKE!  Her finger entered the hive and honey began to drip out.  POKE!  POKE!  Her jabs invaded our precious home again and again.
I zoomed toward her in sudden anger, unable to think of anything other than the desperate need to protect our queen.
“Stop!” I cried.  I screamed with a rage I could not express.  She just continued on.
As I met with the offending finger, I could not pierce through the layers of stickiness fast enough.  I tried in vain as she swatted me away.
“Get away, you stupid bee!” the girl screeched at me.
I hurled myself northward and stung with all my might.  I gave myself up for my queen, which is all any of us aspires to, really.
As I turned from the welt that I inflicted as it started to rise, I saw them.
The swarm surged from the chamber and launched an attack on the intruder.
My death has been avenged and my queen is now safe.
Long live the queen!

the phenomenon of size – D. Lee Cox

i am not bound by law
i am not bound by duty
i am not bound by conscript
i am bound by beauty

the beauty of Nature
the beauty of prevailure
the beauty of Instinct
and the beauty of failure

Nature is not singular
Nature is many
large v. small
one v. any

i die but i’ve won
i dont understand your cries
You live but You’ve lost
the phenomenon of size

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