Abuzz Poems

I Picked up My Ears

     Airplanes scream overhead
     Lawn mowers abuzz on the ground
     Traffic streams endlessly by
       drowning out nature's intentions
       all of her creatures’ sounds...

     One lonely night in the country 
     I picked up my weary ears
       things soddenly sounded just right
       
     Whistling and chirping
     Mating calls of birds
     A pond come alive
       something forgotten in me
       had stirred

Depression Again

The phone rang. 
Saying “Hello,” more quietly. 
Saying nothing.
And the nothingness worsens over time. 
Times of hopelessness don’t exist.
It’s just hopelessness. 
Not any particular time. 
Not any particular tear, or frown. 
I’m just some perfect circle, who is shaking imperceptibly. 
Nothing really happens.
I am dead in a sparkly way. 
Now I am. 
Saying things about hurt, but I don’t think that exists. 
If someone asked my favorite memory?
It would be me telling everyone about how sad I am. 
They would just stand there. 
You can’t know what they say. 
Just murmuring, maybe. 
People abuzz, whispering, making me happy with rumors that are real. 
I’m depressed and now they know. 
That never really happened. 
I still live, anyway.
I won.

Hearing Voices

I thought I heard your voice last night
A sweet familiar sound
No other human in my sight 
Not a single soul around
Up to the window moseyed I
Towards where the voice was heard
I called out loud while drawing nigh,
"Is that you, my Bluebird?"

Just then a slumbering breeze awoke
And rustled through the bough
So quietly to me it spoke
More zephyr-like than sough,
"Yes, it's her, she sitting there 
Way up on that moonbeam
She's calling you, go to her now
For this is not a dream"

Then so I did and up I went
To meet you in the sky
And time stood still the while we spent
T'was only you and I
When morning came I realized 
A dream indeed this was
But something caused me to sit up
Olfactory sense abuzz

The scent of Baccarat filled the room
And then and there I knew,
Plus a vase of fragrant lilacs,
These could've only come from you
Just then I heard your voice again
This time from far away,
"I've loved you for a thousand years
And I'll wait for someday"

The Flower and the Bee

The flower and the bee are miracle signs. 
To last forever when the spirit aligns.

The summer is abuzz with all of the fun.
A day to remember when love was outdone.

The most perfect design that holds the powers.
In the soft bosom found of gentle flowers.

Upon the summit of the holy mountain.
Flows our happiness from a godly fountain.

The masters of being steal the cosmic show.
Sending cool respite or brimstone and coal.

Redemption slips away fear fills the still air. 
The crowd standing breathless with a frozen stare.

Then in the plainest sight the truth could be seen.
But in our dark vision we thought it a dream.

For life is not made fair it gives and it takes.
We chaulk up the sorrows and call it the breaks.

To find your destiny seek the promised land.
For all man's empires soon turn back to sand.

Standing there next to you the one that you seek.
The promise that you made was you wouldn't peek!

39 Minutes

39 minutes
That is all that I have left
Before me
Not one minute more

I spent my life
Thinking time is precious
Time is fleeting
So I must hold on

But now I realize
It eludes my grasp
No matter how bitterly
I try to cling on

27 minutes
The clock is ticking
As if it was mocking me
For my imminent demise

My head is full and empty
Devoid of any thoughts
Yet all abuzz with noise
As I try to be composed

My hands are growing cold
My vision is blurred
My heartbeat weak
Yet my will to live strong

15 minutes
And what am I doing
But wasting it away
Like I wasted my life

Time only flows forward
Ever onward
Yet I stubbornly thought
I could be an exception

Perhaps it is cruelest
That I have to make peace
With my imminent death
Within precious last moments

3 minutes
Enough to fill a sandglass
With a lifetime's regrets

The Jews Harp

if aromatic, can your sound
adrift on wings like strings to sing
by tongue and some from lighted tops
of cloud aloud let fly, let fly
o solitary eagle soaring high
these aromatic overtones
of demon groans to bees abuzz
on petal roams and onto tombs
of night in flight to morning’s dew
harmonic rhythms meditate 
the late, the new, the cycle through
sweet realm of realms, mine avenue
and though her breath is my breath too
the key, like she, can bloom

The Annual Ugly Bug Ball

The world of insects is adither and abuzz
About the biggest party bash that ever was.
Their favorite time is near,
It comes just once a year,
The Annual Ugly Bug Ball.

Caterpillars, centipedes, and honeybees
Are sprucing up and rubbing rouge upon their knees.
Their costumes are brand new,
And soon they're going to
The Annual Ugly Bug Ball.

Moths and butterflies are practicing their dips,
The Arachnida are limbering up their hips,
And ants who love to dance 
Hope they'll find romance
At this year's Ugly Bug Ball.

Both the mantises are planning to be there,
Such an elegant, sophisticated pair.
The husband is ideal
As dancing partner and a meal.
One mating tango, though, and he'll have done his share.

When the time comes they'll start streaming toward the hall,
Some will flutter, others scurry, creep, or crawl.
They'll frolic until break of day
To music the cicadas play
At the Annual Ugly Bug Ball.

The Cemetery Is Alive

The cemetery is alive
With freshly cut mums and poinsettias.
Gathering people make it even more abuzz.

A crisp wind blows
Over each receding blade of grass –
Slowly turning them the color of brass.

A handful of tombstones –
Sun-dappled underneath oak trees –
Are scratched by fallen amber leaves.

The crucifixion mound
Overlooking it inspires the Christmas spirit
Within the hearts of those who visit.

An Abecedarian

Audience is abuzz.
Boldly,
Conductor emerges – black tux.
Draw
Ethereal patterns with baton– marv.
Flutes, trumpets, cellos, drums dance for me, for you.
Gentle, light…
Heavy and dark…the music evolves
Into something more meaningful, deeper.
Joyous – a tranq
Killing, temporarily, stresses – they stop,
Lost to the rhythms and harmonies.  And so
Melodies salve our inner woes – a balm, a boon.
Notes are born, they mix, they fade.  And I’m
Overawed by power wielded.  I am making a musical 
Peregrination.  My task –
Quixotic hajj –
Round go I,
Seeking solace in this temple of sound (sigh).
Tonic for soul grieving,
Unable from pain to calm itself –
Veritably impossible –
Without help from song and chord.
Xing over…with music,
Yes, I climb…
Zenith bound, toward nirvana.

Sexy Wasp

She is much sexier than the queen
The hive was all abuzz
This Marilyn Monroe-like wasp
Was the woman that never was.

The drones almost stopped working
When sexy wasp came into the hive
I think several of them passed out
At last count it was eighty-five

Funny Not Funny

summer nights abuzz
  street lamps busy with insects~
        funny things you miss

Some Insects Are a Nuisance

Fruit flies abuzz everywhere
Some fly here and some land plop
Doesn't matter if it is on fruit or poop.
Then they have the nerve to land in my stew
I think they have the right to life, but then.
They'd have sex and hatch oodles.
Two thousand more at a time
Even though I try not to keep score, see.
Swarms of them are too many to please me.
Drosophila melanogaster, go.
Setting some traps with fruit bait
They enter can't leave, trapped, stay.
Guess what, they have sex, and she lays her eggs.
In a short time, maggots start their ascent. 
Well, throw them out, those pesky nuisances.
I thought I had them conquered.
I assumed the house was free.  
Then to my surprise, one zoomed in my ear.
I was furious, angry as could be.
Up my nose one flew, to my amazement.
I blew and blew, used some spray.
I can hear him buzz today.

Dance Partner Directive

Come to my gravesite
All dressed in red
A black umbrella held
over your head
that partially obscures you from view

As I am gently lowered to
my final place of rest
Take the bouquet you hold
So tightly to your chest
Tossed in as a final farewell from you

Abuzz with life the word will fly
Who is this and what does it mean
This gesture of love so blatently shown
before this to others unseen
Then solemnly turn away

And you and I who loved from afar
Cross the space of realities apart
Will once more connect in this day and time
In this expression from the heart
A beautifully executed ballet

Tattoo You

I don't regret I got it
This small tattoo of mine
An everlasting love note
In permanence of kind
I look at it and smile
It doesn't make me sad
It represents the moment
Where ink on the scratchpad 
Became a lasting statement
I knew just what it was
I did when I had done it
My heart was all abuzz
Excited and emphatic
In color it did state
A pronouncement for my lifetime
Not too early, not too late
But still there's one thing missing
The statement's not complete
Until another figure
Alights and takes her seat
A tiny little bluebird
Standing o'er the strings 
I'll carry her forever
To where forever brings
It's not the proper moment
To add her there right now
Her nest is not quite ready 
But I hope someday, somehow
I'll sit there in the artist's chair
And watch his skillful hand
Create my little bluebird
Atop my heart she'll stand

Passion With a Pen

                       Passion with a Pen
                         Birth of a Critic
                              8/2/2023


           So excited was I, to gain a position.
           Something so dishonest was going on!
           I was so driven to right an evil wrong.
           My college paper, had me on a mission!

           Decades danced away,I forgot what it was.
           The Editor, with spine, would not remove my piece!
           Faculty grumbled, red-faced, without surcease.
           It went to press, entire campus alive and abuzz!

           That’s when my desire to write was born.
           The Muse to write blew clearly her horn..
           Call me, “The Ethical Vigilante!”
           I will go after any lies or propaganda, that is fake and scanty.

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