you hang in the back,
beside a feathered dress,
grazing my pink suede boots
threadbare and warm,
stolen, fair and square
I inhale the perfume of burning pine
and cold November nights,
brush your frayed edges
along my lips
just to feel you shiver
then press against your metal zipper
’til teeth marks pierce my thigh,
imagining what it’d be like,
thread by silky thread
but tonight, I will only slip my hands
into your dark and lovely pockets,
filled with song
and razor wire,
a half-smoked pack of Marlboros
and folded pieces of notebook paper,
scrawled with a story I’ll never read,
because I already know how it ends
“Mine” ~ Nerisha Kemraj
So desirable she is,
Her beauty knows no bounds,
If only she could see me
She’s mine, she just does not know it yet
I love the way she walks,
Down the runway,
And the way her body sways…
In a rhythmic flow
The way her lips curl in anger
If only I could tell her about the way I feel,
Perhaps I’d hear that she too feels the same…
It’s second fiddle now, I know this game.
Those quick glances she throws my way
While I sit at my desk near the window
Like the sunkissed flower with morning dew
She beautifies all in her wake
I see her inviting looks when she hands me the files
I reach for it, hands meeting
As she peers into something on the desk, feigning interest
We’re going out for coffee later
It doesn’t matter that the rest of them will be there
I know it was just her shyness,
She likes me.
She just does not know it yet…
“That woman!” ~ Joshua Flores
To me she is a
She makes me
To her I am
“My Aelia, Across Candora” ~ By Michael Cottle
It is your face I see,
In the vast distance,
And it drives me,
Closer to you,
800 miles or more.
You are my hope.
My will to live.
It is your face I see,
When my eyes close,
And I feel your every curve,
When I reach out in dreams.
In my lonely visions,
You don’t know,
That you are my light.
In 800 miles or more,
What I feel and see,
Will I tell you then?
I don’t know.
I don’t know if I can.
If you leave me forsaken,
I don’t know if I can.
“Flames” ~Sean Bracken
The fire that used to warm me
Is now the flame that kills me
I need the light, I feel the heat
It’s burning bright around my feet
The flame is all around me
Consuming passions in me
Her warm embrace that licks my face
Has taken me and left no trace
Of the man that was, and is, and will be
The flame that came to heat me
Has now begun to kill me
I cannot live within her fire
I have no was
I have no is
I have no future, maybe
Theme: A stinging insect to its victim
Meter: Free verse
No more than 36 lines!
Philosophy Embraced – J. Jack Sweitzer
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