Best Bee Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Bee poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of bee poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Bee poems, articles about Bee poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Bee poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...



New Bee Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Bee poems are below this new poems list.

A Small Little Bee by Acrich, Marc
Bumble Bee by Trim, Nick
Little bee by wade, fauxcroft
No name bee by pederson, doug
THE CAT THE BEE AND THE PUP by Name Forsakes Me, The
Being a Bee by Anderson, John
Honey Bee by Laurie, Lindsay
Bee by Blade, Ross
bumble bee soldiers 2 by parker, cs
bumble bee soldiers by parker, cs

View all new Bee Poems

The Best Bee Poems

Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Long Loud Sigh

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.

so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?

life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.

all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark 
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.

so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me 
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.

memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music, 
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.

i remember...

you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed 
how you put your fingers on my lips 
how you licked them...you...genius.

you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die 
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.

come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be 
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.

GENIUS?

fine!
hide.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
fine!

don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.

i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.

it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.

still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.

i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!

i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though. 
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.

or 

take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases 
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed 
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.

i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.

dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.

genius?
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.

genius?,
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.

i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...

i walked into my life without consideration.
maybe crawled.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.

if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face, 
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.




April 1 2015
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Linda
Contest Name:A Million Dollar Poem








Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Old House

Seven generations walked through your door,
Which stood so strong and always welcomed in.
You said goodbye when boys headed to war,
Two soldiers lost to battles they can’t win.

Your kitchen always busy as a bee,
With canning, baking apple crumble cake.
Stone hearth, a place for warmth and drink some tea,
The table decked with riches to partake.

The living room a place to sit and chat,
With pictures hanging for one hundred years.
A chair still there where ancestors once sat,
This room for laughter and at times for tears.

Your nursery where many babies grew,
With bassinet where ev’ry child did lie.
The paint would change at times from pink to blue,
A place where time would always quickly fly.

The floors within have felt each child’s first walk,
Their worn out wood drowned many times with stain.
You watched the aging people gently rock,
You’ve heard and felt the tapping of a cane.

I stand and listen in your sacred halls
And feel that you’re a part of everyone.
Each breath we took embedded in your walls,
Of fathers, mothers, daughters and of sons.

Old house of stone your warmth embraces me,
Your children now all scattered far and wide.
You still stand proud for all the world to see,
The thoughts of you, sweet memories inside.

The house my children grew up in.

Iambic Pentameter  
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.02.2014
Giorgio’s Contest: Iambic Verse III
2nd
Best of 2014  1st place


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Mohammed Ali

Mohammed Ali

Cassius Clay

The Legend

He was not a humble man
Everything he did, was big and grand
He taunted and barbed with poetic flair
His opponents he angered
Entertainment in the air

He was a legend, bigger than man
A champion in the ring
He often took a heroic stand
Breaking barriers of narrow minds
He defined his style in his own time

His greatest feats were not title wins
Nor his taunts and bragging sins
Inside there was a more humble man
Who stood for the downtrodden in troubled lands
Full of humility he still could sting like a bee

In the end he floats away
A softer man, of a fighter’s heart
So shed a tear, for this complex legend
Whose humble beginnings’
The butterfly brought home to his roots

God brought him back to his beginning
Cassius Clay he was… and now lives in eternity
Freed not by name
But by convictions... of his
Good deeds


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

''silence sweet solitude''

 
the solitude the silence silence of a bee in the forest silence of the leaves leaves on majestic trees leaves my soul quivering quivering treasures quivering happiness and joy joy of freedom and journeying on joy in my soul beyond time time entangled in vines time to pause in the emerald emerald windswept meadows trembling emerald velvet foliage creeping creeping and creeping the embroidery of green creeping sunlight fills the shadows shadows are where the violets sleep shadows hide a hundred chirping wings wings of the poets dreamy muse wings of a little butterfly kissing the decay decay in the tangled branches decay beautiful and divine divine tufts of yellow divine bliss in silence silence in the garlands of green silence in hushed echoes echoes of unseen songsters echoes of wild streams bubbling and flowing flowing pen flowing words and verses verse amongst the scattered dandelions verses in the whispering calm calm the clusters of vines twining calm the bliss bliss in a deep canopy of towering giants bliss under an azure above above the cowslip and foxglove above blue birds fly fly downy wings fly with the sweet wind wind that whispers in my ears wind that lifts the tufts of pretty flowers flowers wilted and dying flowers with petals forlorn forlorn my poetic words forlorn and weeping weeping on tattered paper in solitude weeping poems and rhymes and verses created in the silence solitude . . . _______________________ May 23, 2015 Blitz Submitted to the contest, shhhhh , sponsor, Silent One 8th Place


Copyright © Broken Wings- Dear Heart | Year Posted 2015


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Remembered In Thy Full Bloom,Collaboration by Robert J Lindley, Teppo Gren and Michael P Clark

Remembered In Thy Full Bloom 
A Collaboration By,
Robert Lindley, Teppo Gren
and  Michael P Clarke.


Thou art remembered in thy full bloom,
a rose grown within my garden of life.
Thou art lost to me and this my doom,
Gone the tender love of my precious wife.

Ill wind had blown, poisoned arrows of fate,
love lost, ever I cry, we reunite.
Tho', should such be only at Heaven's gate,
illuminated, in true love's precious flight.

Thine effect so lives in my lonesome cast
as I meander in my ruthless path,
in darkened dust of my ill-fated past,
dying to break free from this endless wrath.

Yet memories sighs they recall our love,
when we did caress love's fiery desires.
In wondrous passions our hearts flew above,
Thou art memories ghost, kindling love's fires.

Pray I, your dream-winds soft and fair tonight,
eager heart leaps to melt in beauty's glows.
With yellow-moon kisses, all could be right,
our love's truth, written in destiny's scrolls.

As lonely spirits found love's true accord,
thy gentle soul caressed my heart with joy.
It was thy gracious beauty I adored,
for endless days thy soft caress enjoy.

Thou comest beloved, love for to bring,
thy wondrous beauty, darkness doth dispel.
In divinity thy heart it doth sing,
one moment of joy my heart did foretell.

Within each heart's spirit, desire to come
pray future treasures that announce their glow.
Thy touch, paradise in love's kingdom,
may we with grace, beg our romance to grow.

The light of life returned from dust to dust
be it not my destiny to abide,
and side with mortal ways in life unjust,
with a forlorn dream to be by my side.

Now back to the terror of my dark night,
once more into the pits of hell I fall.
Despair and sorrow darken God's bright light,
Deaths promised joys shall come, I hear death call.

Pray true, warmth and true color to the rose,
return pure gleam that sent my heart to thee.
Wherein all time, forever thee I chose,
thou art ripest flower, I thy lone bee.

Rejoice in death to treasure thine embrace
as end is nigh, with courage to depart.
A halo uncovers thy beauty's grace
to cast celestial light, and mend my heart.

And now doth come my end, I see death's light,
death doth touch my heart, now eternal love.
My beloved, I see thee shining bright,
I now praise death as I ascend above.

As my life's last shadow so swiftly falls,
pray I, this aching soul hears thy dear voice.
Ancient echoes whisper love words, thy calls,
now dear wife, I fly forth, your love my choice.

In heaven‘s garden thy rose blooms in trine,
as love’s eternal bond in sacred love
is cast beyond the faith of God’s design,
and prayers of truth are whispered up above. 

Robert Lindley,Teppo Gren,
and Michael P Clarke.
4-10-2017

Notes:

This poem was written to try and find the sadness of a man lost in deep despair. His only escape are those small moments when his memories sigh his beloved to him. He is ready to welcome death so he can be with and hold his beloved again. Death will be a release.


I want to thank Micheal and Teppo, for the great pleasure it has been to
engage in this three way collaboration! Both for giving me such exquisite verses to write to and with...
I know this poem is long and took us a long time to complete, but to me it is well worth it .
As I could not be happier or any more proud of what our combined efforts have thus created.
I hope this fine poem gifts and pleases those that read it.. For such is the reward that any poet should hope for.
Mike and Teppo, my good friends may God bless you both..


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Being Young


Then ...


  We dabbled our toes in soft summer air, speckled with thistle, dancing ...

      Pressing our backs to the meadow, bare

        Honey-dew sweet, our bee-tickled feet

            Your tortoise-shell eyes, entrancing ...

              Skin touching skin, too wilful for glancing.



(How we wasted such youth ... being young) ... then ...


  We blew our kisses to cauliflower clouds, swimming in van Gogh grasses ...

      Curtsying sunflowers waving their shrouds

        The lemon sun shined on our virtues, entwined

            Your scent sweet as warm molasses ...

              Lips brushing lips, amidst giggled passes.



(How we wasted such youth ... being young) ... then ...


  We spun with sparrows, a strain, to the sky, plucked with an eager intent ...

      Born upon wings as a burgeoning sigh

        Hot-spice afternoon, thus charmed us to swoon

            Too impatient to care what it meant ...

              Wherever urge led us, we heedlessly went.



(How we wasted such youth ... being young) ...



How we tasted life's TRUTH ... being young.




* FIFTH PLACE in the "February 2018 Premiere" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *

* SECOND PLACE in the "Best Rhyming Poem October thru December 2017" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor. *




Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Winter Forest


A harsh wind bites.
The signals are there for those
who understand; those who can 
read the fauna and flora like a map.
Navigating through the forest…
through life.
Acorns are being stored under a
red carpet.
Shards of light pierce through
deciduous windows.
Evergreens wrap themselves 
in a nice warm coat.
The snow arrives on iridescent
wings, stretching it’s arms and 
cloaking all in sight.
A silence creeps in, it’s heart 
slows to a single beat of a 
dying honey bee…

©  7/12/2014


Copyright © David Williams | Year Posted 2015


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Rhapsody in Red

When morning breaks in shades of wine...
  with claret skies to blush the dawn...
     I will stretch and yawn, and thank the night
           for this polished, apple day
 
I will wait until the sun is high, where dew upon the rose is dry
I'll have my cup, .. with toast and jam...
then, make escape, ..........the quest begins,
                                                              to seek my small reward

It happens slowly...
          gathering reason from an untamed mind
            Up into the meadow where the brambles climb
              twisted and tangled, through burgandy vines
               while deftly my fingers, will probe the maze
                and reach for wild berries,.....warm from the haze

Then, thumping their goodness, one after one
into the bucket, dented and worn
A search through thorns, a prick on my thumb
      till my back is ripe, and wet in the sun
           
Finger painting my faded blue jeans
  Knowing my cheeks are flushing in pink
    Sucking sweet juice from two crimson thumbs
         Who cares a lick, of the thorns or a bee?

I am a bee, buzzing serenity...
     plucking small bits of reason and sanity
           taking home goodness in a battered tin pail
              feeling alive, on a wild-flowered hill
             

Tonight's sweet delight, is warm berry cobbler, 
  oozing with goodness of juicy red gems
    staining my tongue, and turning lips scarlet
      dripping blood droplots onto my chin
          
Yet never as splendid, or tasting as fine, 
    as warmed by my smile, straight from the vine

       Picking red berries, and freeing my mind
                                      *   *
                                            * *
                                       *      *
                                                  *
                                             *   
           counting vermillion clouds that are spun
               then heading back home, with the red crimson sun
                  




_____________________________________
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: "Colours"
 5/4/13
Resubmitted to Skat's contest: 


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

When In Love's Immense Depths, You Are Truly Cherished



Mystical web spun memories of our sweet nights, love began under stars and brightest of moonlights. Hold onto that image, its joyous dreaming dreams; fiery echoes, night trysts and pleasurable screams! Love's greatest truth rests in thy bosom and kind heart, destined to meet that night and our souls never part! Fate fulfilled as we were thrilled, luscious love’s first blush, time together, had forever, no need to rush. Aroused desires stirred passions’ afire to burn like pulsing embers in joined flames of wanton yearn, till what was left, spent afterglow like cooling coal our hot bed then our sanctuary soul to soul. From passion's soul to soul, came steaming heart to heart, delicious love made each night glowing as fine art. Waking wrapped in love-joined joy, within Cupid's shot, giving you my all and all I have ever got. Days spent in loving arms that held our love so true, knowing your soft heart lives in me and all I do. From that day, when angels’ wings whispered you away, tears I cry are sweet relief when my mind does stray. Bleeding heart still blooms for you vibrant on the vine, though seeking tendrils ache without you to entwine. Oh the wish to taste your kiss, nectar ‘pon my lips, your thrilling touch still lingers since your life’s eclipse. Yet Fate had its saddest call, that none can deny, ours was to live its love-feast and not reason why. Now so alone, precious memories to sustain, moments of mirth that alleviate the great pain, feed my desires for your tender nightly embrace, know, no power ever known, can our love erase. Upon dawn's breaking, wake knowing you were once here, another memory lessens days flow of tears. Future promise of being joined in nightly bliss and in that moment having all I now so miss; your heart the flower, I the honey seeking bee, our love entwined in paradise under love's tree. Come take me to your Heaven's home of pearly light, my sombre soul now needs you like the stars need night. I look to skies bittersweet shades of twilight blue and daydream of your denim eyes of darkest hue. For a time imagining I’m held in your gaze your magic’s purest charms still don’t fail to amaze. Please find my kiss I’ve blown to you upon the breeze, I send to you my love with prayers while on my knees. Praying to be with you rather sooner than late, memories move to close the circle of our fate. Gather my soul, lift me to you like a feather, with spun gossamer of sacred ties that tether. Robert Lindley and Susan Ashley (a collaboration) _______________June 13, 2018_______________ My poet’s note: Thank you my friend, for sharing your friendship and the joy of this write with me! Again, you lead the way with your splendid talent and abundant inspiration you so freely give. Your generous gifts light up my imagination and your beautiful lead stanza set the stage for a creative and poetic experience that made our collaboration most satisfying. Sharing concepts and creating our work together feels quite natural to me. I truly appreciate your deep and tender artistry, Robert, and also your patience for the delays caused by my busy-ness in these hectic days... Robert’s poet’s note: My dear friend, again I have been honored and blessed to have the gift of composing this tale of love and its magnificent blessings with you! My short poem fragment(first stanza)based upon a relationship I had over four decades ago, has been beautifully completed in our collaboration, because of your wonderful verses, inspiration, and immense talent. Even beyond our friendship, you have further honored me with your great kindness and your truly generous gift of writing with me... For all of that my dear friend, I am so deeply indebted...


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

When In Love's Immense Depths, You Are Truly Cherished

When In Love's Immense Depths, You Are Truly Cherished
 

Mystical web spun memories of our sweet nights,
love began under stars and brightest of moonlights.
Hold onto that image, its joyous dreaming dreams;
fiery echoes, night trysts and pleasurable screams!
Love's greatest truth rests in thy bosom and kind heart,
destined to meet that night and our souls never part!

Fate fulfilled as we were thrilled, luscious love’s first blush, 
time together, had forever, no need to rush. 
Aroused desires stirred passions’ afire to burn 
like pulsing embers in joined flames of wanton yearn, 
till what was left, spent afterglow like cooling coal 
our hot bed then our sanctuary soul to soul.

From passion's soul to soul, came steaming heart to heart,
delicious love made each night glowing as fine art.
Waking wrapped in love-joined joy, within Cupid's shot,
giving you my all and all I have ever got.
Days spent in loving arms that held our love so true,  
knowing your soft heart lives in me and all I do.

From that day, when angels’ wings whispered you away,
tears I cry are sweet relief when my mind does stray.
Bleeding heart still blooms for you vibrant on the vine,
though seeking tendrils ache without you to entwine.
Oh the wish to taste your kiss, nectar ‘pon my lips,
your thrilling touch still lingers since your life’s eclipse.

Yet Fate had its saddest call, that none can deny,
ours was to live its love-feast and not reason why.
Now so alone, precious memories to sustain,
moments of mirth that alleviate the great pain,
feed my desires for your tender nightly embrace,
know, no power ever known, can our love erase.

Upon dawn's breaking, wake knowing you were once here,
another memory lessens days flow of tears.
Future promise of being joined in nightly bliss
and in that moment having all I now so miss;
your heart the flower, I the honey seeking bee,
our love entwined in paradise under love's tree.

Come take me to your Heaven's home of pearly light,
my sombre soul now needs you like the stars need night.
I look to skies bittersweet shades of twilight blue
and daydream of your denim eyes of darkest hue.
For a time imagining I’m held in your gaze
your magic’s purest charms still don’t fail to amaze.

Please find my kiss I’ve blown to you upon the breeze,
I send to you my love with prayers while on my knees.
Praying to be with you rather sooner than late,
memories move to close the circle of our fate.
Gather my soul, lift me to you like a feather,
with spun gossamer of sacred ties that tether.



Robert Lindley and Susan Ashley

(a collaboration)

_______________June 13, 2018_______________


My poet’s note:  My dear friend, again I have been honored and blessed to have the gift of composing this tale of love and its magnificent blessings with you!
My short poem fragment(first stanza)based upon a relationship I had over four decades ago, has been beautifully completed in our collaboration, because of your wonderful verses, inspiration, and immense talent.
Even beyond our friendship, you have further honored me with your great kindness and your truly generous gift of writing with me...
For all of that my dear friend, I am so deeply indebted...

Susan's poet’s note:  Thank you my friend, for sharing your friendship and the joy of this write with me! Again, you lead the way with your splendid talent and abundant inspiration you so freely give. Your generous gifts light up my imagination and your beautiful lead stanza set the stage for a creative and poetic experience that made our collaboration most satisfying. Sharing concepts and creating our work together feels quite natural to me. I truly appreciate your deep and tender artistry, Robert, and also your patience for the delays caused by my busy-ness in these hectic days...




Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

In the Seventies

I wore popular shin high white boots,
The top in rage of disco dancing queens.
The Bee Gees were the utmost in the clan
The alter of quantifying demeans.

Revolutionary, the stance we took,
The freedom of iconoclastic paths
To justify rebellious avenues
That swayed the truth in plain objective wraths.

Our music was the strength we built upon.
To satiate an inward longing for
An understanding from our wings of youth
To dwell upon that which we needed more;

Our voices to be heard above the din
Of righteous antiquated old ideals
To sway the right of multi-media
Into the light of deference that’s real.

To end the Viet Nam war was a quest
Of Yuppies and of Hippies, both agreed,
A war of no beginnings or endings
Should dissolve hate for races to succeed.

A bracelet worn to honor POW's
Those lost in war whose bodies never found,
Embraced the sorrows that remain today
Of those lost souls and buried in the ground.

The seventies are burnt upon my mind.
In vivid dreams of nonconformist ways.
I dwell upon the heroes giving grace
To rectify the military maze.



3-1-18

I absolutely could not pare this down to the required 
20 lines for the contest, so it cannot be an entry.


Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2018


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Granny Panty Annie, the Tranny

Lemme tell ya' about a
*ding-bat skit-zo 
bee-hotch* tranny
named Annie...

I met her one night 
under disco lights 
up at Candies

She was 
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin' ta' see 
if I wanted a piece
of he 
OR
of she 
by way of flashin' granny panties

She was
shootin' pool
actin' a fool
so I 
took a shot
and one tiny glance 
but got caught

So I
lit up a smoke
and tried to play it off cool
but it was too late
she had pulled up a stool

She slurred,
"Hey young felluh, where ya' been all my life!"

I replied, 
"Sorry to burst yir' bubble, but I got a wife!"

"That don't matter kid, what she don't know won't hurt the girl" 
as she fisted my collar and yelled, "I'LL ROCK YIR' WORLD! Annie the Tranny is what they call me. Bet you been wanted ta' bone me since you first saw me!"

Fear and frustration danced on my face
I begged the bouncer to 
"Get this he/she outta the place!"

My pleas were to no avail, 
and that sea donkey lurked hot on my trail
flailin' it's arms and grindin' bar stools with it's tail

Speakin' of tails...
a shiny blue wale tail crept up her back
Her jeans were mean, but couldn't hold her underwear's elastic slack
but at least it beat feastin' eyes upon her crack
then she... 
wrapped her grimy hands around my neck and asked, 
"You n' me, boy, what the heck!?!"

I screamed,
"Look here lady, you seem real nice for a tranny;
but...
ya' see...
ya' need 
to hit the bricks,
you
and yir' Granny Panties!"

At that point the joint started to really heat up
people were glarin' like they really wanted me beat up
I can't recall how the hell I got out of there 
alive and free
it was like a big manly freight train
headin' dead at me

I'm pretty sure I owe the good Lord a big favor
that beast was the devil
and Jesus was my Savior!

It's a night I thought would never end... 
the night at Candies Bar n' Grill
Granny Panty Annie got a thrill 
tryin' to make me her sexy friend!!!





Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Battle of the Sexes

battle of the sexes


~~MONA LISA SMILE
Picture Oil painting worthwhile 
Leonardo DA Vinci, look out!
What is she really smiling about?

(((The popularity of the Mona Lisa increased in the mid 19th century 
because of the Symbolist movement. The painting was thought to 
encompass a sort of feminine mystique.)))



~~JAMES EARL JONES
His award winning voice, rough like stones
Darth Vader, Mufasa, stuttering jubilee  
When I die can he be the one narrating my eulogy?

(((I love James, I'm a star wars freak... <--- yup that's me)))



~~SADDAM AND BIN LADEN
Were very bad, bad men
Causing chaos throughout America & Afghanistan,
HATERS OF THE USA: they should be called the Arab ku klux klan

(((Occupation: Terrorist~ makes me wonder if they went to the same school.)))
                                                                   


~~ADOLF HITLER
The world worse killer
Commander of the oxymoron  Nazi  
Losing at his own game of Yahtzee 

(((The Most Hated Murderer of all time)))



~~YOUNG ANNE FRANK
Her diary worth more than any bank
Famous Jewish victims of the Holocaust
Her legacy teaches that hate is an exhaust 

(((Anne Frank's diary remains one of the most moving and widely read 
accounts of the Jewish experience during the Holocaust.))) 



~~JOAN OF ARC
Angel in an era so dark
an epic hundred year war
her visions is what she payed for.

(((Joan of Arc, also called the Maid of Orleans, a patron saint of France 
and a national heroine, led the resistance to the English invasion.))) 



~~BB KING
Can really sing
Stand by me...
But, can he sting like a bee

(((BB KING~ could not help but wonder if he was a lover and a fighter.)))



~~LADY GAGA
Is no piano sonata,
Madonna wannabe, is she.
Watching her videos make me laugh till I pee.

(((Lady Gaga is Unique as can be!)))


by;p.d.

for battle of the clerihew


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

In the Harem of the Flower Kisser

at the break of dawn a Hummingbird starts his rounds Morning Glory sought flaunting a red hue - Mexican Sunflower tempts looking hot, hot, hot the Don Juan of birds sucking nectar from Beardtongue. . . drunk on French kisses Goldenrod at noon. . . Zephyr carries a sweet scent beneath a gold sun between Rose bushes the Flower Kisser gets lost in Blue Infinity Sweet Pea and Bee Balm entice with purple petals. . . Bees join the orgy Monarchs swarm in droves when blue Hummingbird alights on Butterfly Bush Evening Primrose waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . . the proper lover the Flower Kisser leaves his harem sated as white Moonflower glows *The capitalized names for flowers represent some of the most popular flowers visited by hummingbirds.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

APPLES - MULTIPLE HAIKU

It bounced off the truck
And then rolled down the highway
Apple turnover

-----------------------------------------

How 'bout them apples
When Jonathan McIntosh
Won the spelling bee

----------------------------------------

Apple of my eye
Jenny had the sweetest smile
For another guy

----------------------------------------

Right down to the core
When that apple crossed the plate
An infield dribble

------------------------------------------------------

Just one little hole
In that shiny    red apple
Just one little worm










-------------------------------------------------------------


Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2008


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Stoned Pen - Humor


I feel privileged. I have been chosen by the Government as part of a group testing something called Edible Clinical Marijuana. Honestly I half expected it to look like a Burrito because the name sounds sort of Mexican. It actually looks more like a brownie. I’m am about to take a bite so hold on. Yum, tasty! So here is the point I am suppose to consume one half of a brownie then fill out this sheet giving them my feedback. Hold on I am going to have a few more bites. Okay, no wait, milk would go great with these babies. I’ll be back. (after a long while) OK, sew sorry I was gonna while I was staring inside my fridge\ for a while' tying to remember I think I wanted a glass of ink% aktiually I’m dinking from the bodle@ I am eating my forth brownie as I was instructured to do; Did they say four or? ate cause these. are tasty And/ aaaahhhhhhh,, tasty^ tayysstee^ hahahahahahahahaha"" a program on my compuwhatyoucallit keeps underlyning my words with read squiggles= hahahahahahahahaha but it diidn’t underline squiggle# hahahahahahahahaha wel dats stoopid squiggle isa perfect lee good underlying word* stoopid Bill Gated^ hahahahahahaha?haha sorry I ment Will Gated~ so watt was I saying ] oh yeah+ fill the sheet) hahahahahahahahaha I don wanna sheet, tha is gaross[ heeres a pen quesshun= Sex easy! ansir; yes- please) hahahahahahahahaha ?why m i bein so polite hahahahahahahahaha queshun! oh wow Blues Brothers on my TV what was I spose? to do oh yeah watch tv why am i so angry hahahahahah++ hahahahahahahahaha i mean hungary haahahahahah h u n g r y dere hungry> hey look brownies? those look good hahahahahahahahaha i con't tipe with mai mouth full dats rood/rood i'll get bak too dis later.. sew as they say hahahahahahahahaha two bee contitnude< hay lookk browniies Mo Rice Why Vone 144~13~20/20 Sponsor: Carol Eastman Contest: Humor


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Upside Down

If the leaf wore a tree
And the ocean ate fish;
If a flower sucked the bee
And beans ate the dish;
If a beggar was chief
And a boy was a girl
A song would be brief
If a bird wore a curl.
If the grass chewed the cow
And night turned to day
I'm wondering how
Work might be play.
Wouldn't it be great
If the sun was the moon
If early was late
And a line lost its tune.
If all of these things
Were natural to do;
Then a song wouldn't sing
And teeth wouldn't chew.
              ***


Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Living In Your Dream

Floating across rivers, valleys, and streams I'm thinking of living inside of your dreams Run barefoot through nature, you chasing me End up tripping and falling in love by the sea We're two eagles that fly, soaring high in the sky Let the wind take our bodies, as life passes on by You're a delicate flower, I'm a young honey bee Sucking your nectar and starting a new family tree Sliding down rainbows after a warm springtime mist Laughter and giggles when on your cheek I plant my kiss Your dream will not end having me inside you Our days will get brighter and our night times will too


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Love In My Twenties

Thinking back to my teenage years
 my early twenties, falling in love 
was so easy. 

Truth was a tightrope 
of winks and smiles, 
of the promise of tomorrow 
and today was just fine.

Youth 
in its wondrous ignorance 
sees art were cans of paint 
on a cloth of filth has spilt. 

Poetry with a guitar,

the weed that drove 
us to the depths of revelations. 

Dreams that lived in an endless 
stream of contradictions.

The Bee Gees asked
 "How do you mend 
a broken heart?" 

Oh the broken hearts
 I survived with all its drama.

The letters I would write.
She was Bunny
and I was Rab, short 
for Rabbit. 

Bunny,

“Hearts heal, but your walk 
loses a step or two, it loses its flare.

I miss you so much I just want to die! 
What happened to us?

It boggles my mind how easily 
you let go of US! 

Tears flow as I write. 
I guess I will survive 
but as so much less than I was!

I love you with every beat that is me, 
with every drop of blood that I have. 

I am only half. 
Without you there is no I.

Say Goodbye to who we were for me.
Say it one last time. 

Say Goodbye to every part of you 
that I will never touch again. 

I let you fly and you never came back. 
You were never mine.”

Rab!

Of course I would never send it. 
Within days I would be dipping 
the little redhead’s pigtail in ink. 

Those were the days my friend
we thought they would never end. 

That was love way back then. 
You would climb a mountain with 
your bare hands, change your mind 
and ride the crest of a wave you caught.

Who knew way back then 
in the throes of my anguish, 
in the pain of my lost loves, 
who knew how grand it was 
to be young and in love.

Can you taste Black Cat Gum in the air
it is the perfume of our youth, God Bless!

20~11~2014




Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Till My Poems Are, no More

I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.

And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.

And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.

And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.

Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.

So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.

So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.

How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.

And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.

So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.

And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.

Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.

May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.

May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.

~M





Copyright © Mel Merrill | Year Posted 2014


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Campfire and Tall Tales

Campfire And Tall Tails Friends and sons come walking into the campsite all dress in camo from their long day’s hunt Around the crackling campfire, they all gather and sat to warm their much-needed cold wet bodies Keeping warm with a bottle of Jack Daniels or Black Velvet, and a can of Mountain Dew being passed around Adding more wood to the campfire so it would last through the night With the sons poking sticks into the embers and watching the flame spark, pop, and dance in their sight, while others roast marshmallows at the end of their sticks The men are fixing their evening meal for all to feast on They all gather around the campfire and sit, Teasing and telling stories of their day’s adventure out in the woods, Of a long, exhausting hike around the mountain, With a vision of elk with a large crown of horns The stories are told big and small of the one they saw and had in their cross hairs, but a calf with its mother who walked in front spoiling their shot Or a bee that stung their hand when they were ready to pull the trigger When they‘re all done, they crawl into their sleeping bags so they can do it all over again the next day, Watching the campfire and teasing and telling their stories 10/29/2014


Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2014


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

AISLE SEA EWE

Early in the mourning she rose She wood fined her boat Wear she rose across the see two the sure Their she mustard all her mite And toad the boat on the beech Butt if the thyme was write she tide it two a boy She could hardly weight Four she nose she will sea her suite sun They wood sit on a bolder, brake sum bred Then they eight a hole pair Her sun called her a deer He tolled her when he urns enough doe Ore got sum tacks witch was dew He wood by her a flour at the bizarre Witch could be tide in her hare The cent of the rows wood bee sew sheikh One knight he said she wood prophet If she past buy a different root He new the currant could get ruff The whether was no longer fare and getting two chilli She road away into the missed Aisle meat ewe next weak he balled until he was horse He trussed he wood see her next weak Only Homo’s ‘Aloud’ – Jerry T Curtis 23rd March 2015 ~awarded 1st place


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Birth of Spring

Winter finally exhales its last frozen breath
as I inhale victory over our duel with death.
Slowly, the snow melts from its deep drifts,
as we cross life's bridge and seek Spring's gifts.

I rise from my bed where I had lain for weeks,
tiptoe to the cradle to see the blush on her cheeks.
Pink glow of health, my child peacefully sleeps
and breathes easy where death no longer creeps.

Finally, life smiles and gives us another chance
as Spring renews the earth in her colorful dance.
Tulips, clover, wisteria in profusion everywhere.
Life is more beautiful when its been given a scare.

Through an opened window, my eyes partake
Irises budding on the banks of the thawed lake.
Water hyacinths being visited by the honey bee.
Visions of Spring I thought I'd never again see.

Baby birds in their nests, call their mothers to be fed.
My little daughter's cheeks are becoming scarlet red.
I'll nurse her hunger with motherly love, missing so long,
while kittens purr, and robins sing an enchanting song.

How glorious it feels to be well and so vibrantly alive.
My precious child and I will now blossom and thrive.
A sun drenched pasture is one of the season's charms.
Tomorrow I'll walk in clover with my babe in my arms.

A prayer to give thanks for this sunshine flowery day
and restored life that almost took hers and mine away.
My garden's finery lavishly adorns sweet Mother Earth.
It's a daffodil day!  A time to enjoy Spring's new birth.

 Spring, an appropriate name I've chosen for my child.
 Precious infant nurtured when Winter winds turned mild.
 Ruffles of pink adorn you like the petals of a cabbage rose.
 I promise to keep you safe, so close your eyes and doze.
 Nymph of my heart, I pray that you become a lovely flower.
 Grow into a woman, sweet as jasmine on a garden bower.


~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~
 Contest was finalized on 4/13/16            Written on 3/20/16


Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Eclectic Wonders in Seasonal Flowers --- A Collab

Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks



Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
 
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
 
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
 
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
 
Playing fireworks 
on lovers' palates 
scintillating senses
 
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
 
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic  Osmanthus
 
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
 
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum  mysteries
 
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
 
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
 
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
 
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
 
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
 
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
 
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
 
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
 
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal



P.S. Haven't been on lately ... hope all is well with everyone :)


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016


Details | Bee Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Words from the Oracle

We are in our fall before the season comes
Misting eyes and dropping a dandy heart
A sullen silence around the bee hive hums
History has no center left, facts fall apart

I have nothing left for honey but my words
Listening cleanse the eyes to see forever
Soon the sky flocks with all departing birds
Old bonds are unbroken, new loves sever

But to come again in heat and passion and lie
Cradled against the unknown of life's tomorrows
So summer goes, and sweet flowers will die
To bloom again as carpet for graves of sorrows.

Soon gold will fall from trees in a gray misty shroud
And all that was green will be brown and dim
And wild grass will bow where the land was ploughed
And wind will tap on its trumpet life's requiem


Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009