Best Beeswax Poems
A curious cocktail of odours greets us
as we move in from playground
to corridor, to cloakroom, to classroom.
Beeswax fragrance: freshly buffed parquet.
Brasso smell: base metal turned to gold.
Jeyes Fluid: vapour killing vile germs.
Such alchemy starts our day with clean slate.
Playground cacophony left behind.
Now each sound has discipline, has purpose.
First bell: registration shall begin.
Next bell: proceed to assembly hall.
Lasses stand on round marks; lads on square marks.
Regular rows, parallel precision.
Stand to attention. Uniform inspection.
At ease. Handshakes and smiles. Peace be with you.
Silence pervades as we ponder our sins.
With ramrod fingers Miss thumps on the keys.
Staccato. Left. Right.
'Ride on Ride on in Majesty'.
A short sermon on compassion is served.
Then, school notices: soccer successes
and the listing of scallywags destined
for public thrashing at high noon next day.
Third bell: learning shall begin.
RI lesson. St Paul's Journey yet again.
In silence we colour in his route map.
With crayons on auto-pilot we day dream.
Our apostle arrives in Rome by morning break.
“Laws of the land enslave our people”
-Robin Hood
Sunlight glances off the flint tip
As justice swims through the air
The belly of the bow stave
Carved in yew
Whose nock, twined in hemp
Bonded in beeswax
Burns with the passion of man
Forged in the forest
Practiced on the buckle
Freedom flies true
Freedom
Flies true
01/28/12
I may be all wet, but I sure ain't no bluenose!
And, while it's none of my beeswax,
Let's have a bull session-lesson !
Take a gander around, and tell the guy with the cheaters
I'll give him an ear-full, if he'll just hang around
There's a gatecrasher here..., I heard, on the level
He's zozzled on hooch, a big lollygagger!
He staggered in blotto, with a ciggy on his lips
Sipping on bootleg, and lookin' for whoopee!
He's the fall guy, (I've heard), for a weird, double cross
Here comes the hoofer, the one with the gams
That vamp is a pushover, a gun- moll, man chaser
A real hotsy-totsy!, she dresses real spiffy
Her toy is a shiv, she's the Jane, Real McCoy,
makes a sap out of guys, who carry a torch
Bumps them off, on their own front porch !
And that's the "Big Cheese", who runs the speakeasy
He thinks he's high hat, but is full of baloney
He gives all the dames, the real "heebie-jeebies"
Just a poor drug-store cowboy... filled with nothin' but hooey
Hard-boiled. they come, gold-diggers and hoods
I've been beating my gums, and I'm dying of thirst
This is the berries, been the real bees knees!
Oh, it has been swell, while chewing the fat!
But, facts are the facts, on the up and up
Well, bye, Buttercup,......the jig is up
I'm serious Sam, in a serious jam
The truth of the matter is, that I'm on the lam
You don't know for nothin', stay out of a pickle !...
Remember my friend, don't take wooden nickels !!
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For Deb's Contest: Talk The Talk, Walk The Walk (1920's Slang)
6/14/15
"3 Days Before the Fall"
When the 3 days
of darkness came,
we were ill prepared, still
the sky was blue
not a cloud
in sight
the sun
lit the day
well into the dark night
the fire spread
in mens’ hearts
like a ricochet killshot
across the world
until the meaning
in the reasoning
of it all, fell, charred
we were the demons
walking like prophecies
amongst the innocent
baptised in blood
pinning symbols on doors,
and on others’ hearts
in this new, frightening
strange war
we watched it all
from our sheltered worlds
recording and saving
images on our phones
we were,
slightly above it all
seated on our thrones
sheltered and silent
without windows covered
and closed
no bless’ed beeswax lit, yet
eventually,
we lay prostrate
amidst the end of it all
like fallen dominoes,
two sides
black and white
numbers counted
and uncounted
marked and branded
touched
and
untouched
trying to remember
the purpose
of Love
the value of
obscure prayers
and any good
deeds we shared
at all,
before
our fall
bookmarking
the other chapter
never seen, never read
the voice
of children
never heard;
before our burning beds
the sleeping secret,
Lucia and her Fatima
a child’s message
from
the past
miracles and visions
passed over,
irrelevant, not important
of little consequence
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
post Halloween
“There shall come over the whole earth an intense darkness lasting three days and three nights. Nothing can be seen, and the air will be laden with pestilence which will claim mainly, but not only, the enemies of religion. It will be impossible to use any man-made lighting during this darkness, except blessed candles."
Hungry for munchies, on his way to the lunchroom,
a rambunctious, persnickety,“fuss-budget”, elderly
jittery, fidgety, geezer, named Cassidy…
whose questionable dexterity, aghast by a massive sneeze,
teeter-tottered precariously.
at the edge of the thingamajig, ...jigging one way, jagging the other!
Minding his own beeswax, without any rigmarole,
topsy-turvy on his feet, he reached for the balustrade,
became quite flabbergasted, and very discombobulated
when the doohickey provided for his ambidextrous aid
jiggled free from its screws, and found him footloose!
It seemed the doo-dad, put there by some nitpicking pipsqueak,
some flat-footed, hooligan, who knew diddly-squat, who obviously,
recklessly, constructed a railing, only worthy for failing!
Such foolhardy shenanigans! Was it some practical joke
to lambaste aged codgers, eliminate lodgers, and boondoggle the old folks?
Cass, was an old rabble-rouser, considered a blabbermouth,
was thrown off his epicenter, while his cane went a'sailing, appendages flailing
Onlookers, were outraged, ....in stage of amazement
but laughs grew contagious, and cock-eyed hilarious!
Those carpetbagger carbuncles of society….can’t stop this old fogy
Cass, brushed off his hinny, would not be blind-sighted..
Barbaric bedevilment, won’t halt his felicity!
Some even predicted, with his acid tongue lashings, and his eccentric behavior,
he would stir up entanglement, kibosh the haranguers
and strangle the caboodles, who hooted and hollered!
His face turned beet red, but no meltdown,......instead
He held his chin high
to the dining room, ahead....he ordered French bread
Ordered some bouillabaisse, toasted with balderdash and a shot of rye
He dined with the multitudes, ordered some strudel, and one snicker-doodle
Then he told folks a riddle, "There was a man with a cane, who slipped on a noodle, a handrail came loose, he injured his caboose….and cooked his goose!"
.....................................................
A symphony of simplicity,
The rugged log cabin with the very tall spruce tree.
Decorated lovingly by the parents and children,
Home made decorations.
Deliciously baked cookies in the shape of Christmas symbols,
A gold ribbon tied to each so you could place the cookie on the tree.
The delicious popcorn and red and green paper chains,
Gold stars cut out of paper and carefully placed on the tree.
The rugged table and chairs set with a beautiful tablecloth,
Candles of beeswax placed on the table with branches of spruce.
The dishes simplistic yet beautiful,
The parents and children wore pioneer fashions.
The women wore long dresses of cotton,
The men wore handsome suits.
Presents homemade with care and love,
Placed under the Christmas tree.
A dinner of home cooked potatoes and roast beef with sauce,
A delectable homemade pie and freshly baked bread.
All cooked by mother and the children,
They all sat at the table, father said a prayer.
Thankful to be together again.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
DON’T GET ME STARTED
1. About taxes, we have to pay them so why bother
Wasting breath complaining? And they’re spent on
Useful stuff like nuclear weapons and world-tours for
The Prime Minister and keeping teenage shoplifting kids
In jail (where they belong) and allowing major embezzlers
Or inside-traders to be under light-supervision on open prison-farms.
2. About Richard Nixon, a president who got caught
Doing what practically every president does,
And did trivial things like achieving rapprochement with China,
Ending the war in Vietnam, and signing nuke treaties
With the USSR. What a waste of time.
3. About bees, because why should I put up with stings and all their buzzing
Just for honey, when I don’t even like honey or beeswax?
And don’t tell me about the hexagonal architecture of honeycombs.
Buckminster Fuller did it better without stinging or buzzing anyone.
4. About sushi, which is a bit too fishy for me. I hate fish,
With those big staring eyes in the shop, or floating pathetically
Around In the shrimp-pan gazing accusingly at me.
5. About Australians, wanting applause for kangaroos, wallabies or Melbourne.
How about a round of applause for Canada for having beavers, or the RCMP?
6. About rap “music” which really should be called crap music
7. About dogs
..................................................
( Don't get excited, politically, sexually or architecturally. No nationalistic or animal rights complaints, please. It's only a funny poem.)
We let loose the untamed winds
As boulders crashed eleven ships were lost
With storm unabated into the Laestrygons we ran
T'was one lone ship which hit Circe's land
As boulders crashed eleven ships were lost
Fair isle it was of verdant green, of misty hills
T'was one lone ship which hit Circe's land
Warm welcome and viands was Circe's fare
Fair isle it was of verdant green, of misty hills
Odysses, Circe's love was spared as we were turned to swine
Warm welcome and viands was Circe's fare
Spell broken with Herme's help we all were back on board.
Odysses, Circe's love was spared as we were turned to swine
Thence we sailed to Hade's land where roam the souls about
Spell broken with Herme's help we all were back on board.
We were counseled on how to beat the odds
Thence we sailed to Hade's land where roam the souls about
With beeswax we stuffed our ears and Odysseus was tied to the mast
We were counseled on how to beat the odds
The Sirens' serenade was in vain
With beeswax we stuffed our ears and Odysseus was tied to the mast
Next Scylla and Charybdis were sate with six of our doughty men
The Sirens' serenade was in vain
Our last misfortune as a crew was on Helios shore
Next Scylla and Charybdis were sate with six of our doughty men
We tasted off succulent meat and were struck by Zeus' bolts
Our last misfortune as a crew was on Helios shore
Of twelve ships and their crew only Odysseus survived the sail
We tasted off succulent meat and were struck by Zeus' bolts
Past Scylla and Charybdis again, Odysseus floundered all alone
Of twelve ships and their crew only Odysseus survived the sail
Bedraggled and beat, a weary man he was trapped in Calypso's thrall
Past Scylla and Charybdis again, Odysseus floundered all alone
For seven years did Calypso's arms embrace the valiant hero
Bedraggled and beat, a weary man he was trapped in Calypso's thrall
Finally, on Hermes' plea Calypso let him go.
For seven years did Calypso's arms embrace the valiant hero
Great heroes we consigned to flames
Finally, on Hermes' plea Calypso let him go.
We sailed the seas from Trozan shores
~11 Jun 2016~
And so they sailed, on and on, uncharted were where they went, till they came to Hade's land
Dark and grey and dismal was the land where wraiths and shadows wandered on the sand
There they held congregation with the dead whose time on Charon's ferry was yet to clear.
Odysseus did meet his mother Anticleas as did Achilles, Agamemnon, and Teresias the Seer.
Teresias, blind from birth, had vision of the Gods and good counsel he did give
Of more travails, he did prophesise, of arcane things he did tell, of ways to overcome and live.
So once again, the Grecian ship set sail with a sense of dire forebodings, a journey lasting long
And hence they came where dwelt fair maids, the Syrenia, of sweet and dreaded song.
The Sirens were a beauteous lot, their songs lured ships and men to the rocks, and shipwreck
Oysseus, forewarned, stuffed beeswax in the ears of crew, and bound was he to a mast on deck
So the Sirens' song, which doomed all men, was heard by our hero to his hearts content
And the ship sailed past averting sure doom, as deaf crew to their sailing task were bent.
Now, in those days of Mythical Beasts were two most dreaded beasts of the seas
Scylla of the hexa-head with ravenous mouths, and the maelstrom called Charybdis.
Caught were the crew between the choice of the two, and Odysseus made the choice
Scylla it was that Odysseus chose. With heavy heart he sailed past it, gave six men as sacrifice.
... To be continued in Part IV
Stop it, we’re stressed,
Our collective mind, regressed!
Searching for fields of clover,
Flower to flower. over and over.
But those planes full of bug spray,,,
A little of that and we fly astray
We just want to do our job,
But were turning into an aimless mob.
Remember we help to make your food;
Without us you might just be screwed.
And you think we will tell our honey-making facts,
We’re sorry, but that’s none of your beeswax!
So just admit it you need us more than you think,
Were out of sync, we could be gone in a blink.
We can’t find our way to our honeycomb home,
That stuff that you spray makes us aimlessly roam.
Our children need a life that’s serene,
An please, God, help us save the queen!
My charming husband hails from Halifax
Where they make the world’s finest beeswax
For years he worked preparing income tax
Wearing a suit and tie with neatly pressed slacks
He would take care of details including sales tax
Correspond with clients usually by phone or by fax
The day he retired he reached an all-time climax
I proposed he start to learn to play the sax
But he says he loves to chill and just relax
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 23, 2018
The jumping jellies in wellies are singing like la la la
Space suited shells are quite adept at leaning through cubby holes and travelling for a long time. A long time is a lengthy length leaning. But not leaking for leaking is akin to leering and leering belong to lecherous old whales in suits sat on many benches in rows. Rows reaching raiding retching rumps. And rump steaks are mashed to a pulp by a size six hundred shoe having a hop down a stairway. Never mind the beeswax ear drums and kettle fish dance for ot is merely a movie shown here on a screen. A flat screen is often displayed on a suitcase isn't it? Wow how often the occurring jam configured jar invites the ham to a sandwich party. Quite often. But a table top clap is a riot of absolutism that abolishes apple pips. Eradication eating eggplants. Oooh mystic moo tune. Great. Dance then. Hahaha the sponges are riding the paperbacks. Hahah swan dip in the cup. Xxxxx colonisation z z z z at nineteen herrings hearing harpsichordists' to fourteen financially dynamic dynamited digital dogs. Z so why wobble wobble with curd then z z z z z z zbhvq at platform five six seven. Z
Form:
Using a bucket and spade as a pillow can be as symbolic as cuddling a goose. But wrestling with a carpet cleaner can often be quite a hazardous act filled with semi reluctant fumes. And fumes are neither flailing nor failing and failing is rife in a static bin bag anyway. So all go out to the shop then. It is imperative to ask the question to a mild mannered ladle on which side should the bread be placed for dipping. Dipping duties delivered dreamy draperies downstream. Whilst the currents in a castle turret could sail for many miles even in a strong and vibrant breeze. Now sit over there and keep very still and you may witness a rare sight of the carpet octopi who breeds at this time of year. A timely show. Askew beeswax in a marble frame can never beat a sledgehammer in an agility course or a bike race. But fragrant fragments can flavour even the most erratic mood of a swamp monster. For several little beetles going to bed at the same time it is good to watch the film about the patterns in ties and crusty bread. Ok then. Now that was a marvel to behold. Bring home the monkey. Fantastic. Apathetical apple alphabet ate and ate. Hahaha hazardous heap. Xxxxx carnivorous crab. Xxxx tradionalism Z Z Z Z
Form:
On a rainy chilled winter indigo and violet night,
howling furious wind blows with pounding fist against an old oak
and its boughs delivering knockout blows to all the leaves.
Lightning blast over the darkened sky followed by a crash of thunder
shaking the house, as pelting ceaseless rain beat against the window pane.
Malinda awoke addled from a deep restless sleep.
She sat up in bed, listening to the storm, with a haunted looked turned her head and looked into the flickering golden orange hue beeswax candle flame
casting moving shadows against the dark bedroom walls.
She got up and walked to the window and looked out.
Another jagged bolt of lightning streak across the sky
and thunder again shook the house.
She closed the curtains and walked back to bed
pulling the covers over her head.
3/30/2019
Poetry Contest: Specificity in Poetry
Sponsored by: Sheri Fresonke Harper
U F O is a W d o p u y t r e s a d f g h k l k m n b v c xz q?
Feeling ill cam be understood to be akin to laying down upside down on a constantly rotating piece of grass that moves so rapidly that ground cannot really fathom a place to stand still. But stillness is not stagnation nor is it syllables stalling for stillness is often likened to a giant hexagonal bee swarm rotating royally signalling to jester fish that the top of a yogurt reads the same as the top line of a paragraph but minus the full stop. Equations equipped equatorial effluent efflorescent elephant. And a stripey square ball rolled away in a hexagonal formation before jumping into the swimming pool. Bowl then. But only wearing a bowler hat. Great. Now that is done the items can be imagined to be interested in inkwells'. Fantastical news for ten z frames, a beeswax curdle, a shrinkable curry, a curriculum carriage, and a force ten thousand gale singing a pleasant hymn. Loudly. While practising gymnastics with a fork lift truck and a lorry in a leotard. Z organizationally Z at forty one knots knitting ro eighteen balls of wool lugging loaded leaf loaves. X
Form: