Long Beehives Poems
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I have tasted forbidden fruit
and died a thousand times
Smiles in the wind, and
Words that kept me blind
Shadows speak in tongues of doubt
But loyal love is what broke me out
Jesters simply cannot do
Onward I march into something new.
I have loved many in the purest form
Now they're paw prints on my soul
Sweetest memories of broken lives
Spun me right into beehives
Spun me right into beehives
I have danced in darkness only to find
That I was not meant to be their kind
Threads were woven through hollow trees
Voices echoed with each new breeze
And only one has walked with me
Has really seen what I did see
We went straight through only to learn
That those in pain still burn,
unless while alive they turn.
I have loved many in the purest form
Now they're paw prints on my soul
Sweetest memories of broken lives
Spun me right into beehives
Spun me right into beehives!
By: Sabina Nicole
You can keep swinging in your smile
as your eyes see through the cylinder only
where the flowers radiate the scent
where the leaves wait for the rustle
of the fondling wind
where stars wait for the music
of the magical light peaks
where the blue sky waits
for the golden kite
in the cloud towers
Where the staircase raises the ears
for the sound of the footsteps
Where the mahogany branch
craves for the feet of the pair of the larks
The cylinder refuses to take
the wide angle lens
adding to the view
the greedy rats
the spilling vats
the leopard like hungry cats
the pus and pain of the flats
that our apartment is proud of
housing the autocrats
None in your tunnel
You don't battle
Against the stale apples
the de facto brothels
in the apartment in isolation
with no ventilation
You are of course better off
than those who have
the same tunnel before the eyes
Only the field of view with no dew
For them in the queue
The rapists and rape victims
The murdered and the murderer
The cheats and frauds
The figures flawed
Nothing good and well
The earth a hell
You are better off
With your cut-off
eliminating the minuses
Including only the pluses
where the thorns
aid and abet the blossoming of the rose
We like to keep disjointed
And highlight the negative knives only
Turning blind to the beehives
And the humming bee
bridging you and me
You do have the ear
corresponding with the tunnel vision
to hear and respond
and build the blueberry bond
between the flute and the music
The circles concentric
of the lyrics of life
and the drumsticks
______________________________________________
April 28, 2018
Tunnel Vision - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
At night, the clock sends out the remaining minutes, and the illusion of youth brings them back during the day.
Melted clock hands and numbers burn my palms and, through them, a view of you while you play.
In a thin dress, you pull your fingers out of invariant subspaces, and you look at me without blinking with bright eyes.
The whirlwind of music from the podium lifts us up
and throws us naked on your threshold with woven limbs.
A dance of confused touches and lost years
on a yellowed piece of paper.
*
In the loneliness kitchen, kisses and hands on the body,
your sigh on my face
while the fingers are in the honey box.
In the corridors of the mathematics of proof
destructive sub-personalities
they distract us from the truth.
*
Blue pool water and grass
full of flowers and pollen-intoxicated bees.
Swimming makes you smile,
while the sting creates a spasm on the face
and throws a bowl full of cherries into the water.
Fear of dragon bites,
he took the white knees far away;
to wait for a long-distance call on the payphone.
*
Meeting on the street and smiling,
the awakening of an old desire that has been simmering.
You are the queen of swords;
with a look into the distance,
we are there behind the distant hills.
Waiting for dawn on the sand dune,
hugged and wrapped in a white cloth.
We spend our days walking on the sands of Morocco
nights of passion and tenderness
are on the stone roofs of houses that look like beehives,
while the fresh night breeze blows from the desert.
--------
If only the hateful blind could see
All the vistas of felicity
Found in here, and found in there
Found everywhere at every stare
Found in the sea which marine adore
It's placidly waves pours colors azure
Found in the night with light above
Of luminous colors as white as dove
Found in the depths of every grotto
A gleaming gem; a winning lotto
If only they could freeze and ponder
Abandon stress, free to glance a-yonder
I can only imagine what they'd find
Like all creature's souls, one of a kind
In forests would they find roses, berries?
Taste sweetened juice and spy canaries?
Find beehives stacked with sugared honey?
One spoon full is all to omit money
Traverse beaches, deserts, full of sand!
Cling onto essence: nature's hand!
Could they feed their eyes a blossom tree?
Who's full beauty even I can't see?
Would their eyes venture the afternoon?
An atlas, pigments red and blue?
View land on mountains, glazed with snow
Sky full of lamps, the rest below
From that view, they'd see it all
The sea, the sky and leaves in fall
They'd see caves and coves and beach's shores!
Gems, berries, honeys, all galore!
The view would force their eyes to pour!
Joy streaming in their inner core!
They'd be it too! Something inside!
The heart's most deepest joy be pried!
Their senses overran by all
The largest beauties of all things small
Oh if only a wicked eye could see...
The marvel of our majesty~
that summer when love arrives
when tractor mowed the fields of hay
'twas deafening silence which doth abides
beside the busy path of hallway.
That summer when love arrives
When all the grasses swayed with art
All the living that all strive
And all emotions were just to start.
That summer when love arrives
When dying leaves fell in ground
And all the memories brought back to life
When a friend like him was all I found.
That summer when love arrives
As I watched the bird with food
Tearing it with claws as knife
Like our world in different roads.
That summer when love arrives
When all the birds had sung its songs
As our world when it was collide
All foundation seems to strong.
That summer when love arrives
As soft as the breeze of wind
As noisy as the bee's beehives
And all those rhythms come in blend.
But the fields of hay are now in shaft
Yet the memories were still alive
And all emotions know not to stop
'Twas that summer when love arrives..
Bees are such busy workers
They collect pollens and nectars
For their food at beehives
Because of to much work the whole day
They sometimes sleep in flowers' petal
In the morning when they wake up they goes
Back to beehives with their pollens and nectars
Pollens are best source of protein for bees
Bees has short live lifespan
If they are going to die, they die outside beehives
So they will not be a liability to others about their corpse
Nature may not survive without bees
They are the courier of pollination
I wonder if bees are not present in environment
We can't see flowers, we can't see fruits
We can't see vegetables and other flowering plants
Bees are integral parts of human and nature existence.
Pooh, plush with his turned-up snout,
pleased; peeked out the wide window.
He prompt a mouth sigh, breathed out,
placid with life, holding his pillow.
Seized by magic of nature
and buzzing noise, means there's bees.
Out the door happy creature,
beehives beneath limbs and shade of trees.
Pooh and Cricket walk, a trail
laced in rainbow wildflowers.
A sniff they took, and a snail
slowly crawl out look for spring showers.
Fluttering butterfly lands
on Pooh's nose, twas so funny.
A bouquet and snail in hands,
towards home with jugs full of honey.
2/6/2022
Nursery Rhyme
"Novitiate"
Wading through
turgid mainstream
Novitiate makes her
way to the bottom rungs
of the Clean Team
Where dreams are
captured a.m. p.m. .
on the run with
weeping neutered minds
zero sublime
same old, same old
Asks herself,
“Where’s the substance?
Am I gormless too?”
rewards are Molasses,
Sugar Plums and
Glory, if that's you
It’s like dipping your spoon
in Alphabet Soup
re-arranging letters.
Shirley Temples with
no flaming
Bombe Alaska clue
pour the brandy,
light the flame.
Ignite something,
heart, mind or soul
covert intelligence
wonderful electric
minds pollinating
intellectual beehives,
"where's all the dripping
honey?"
Novitiate dreams
Go punch a hole in the sky
block all emotional rissoles
it’s not a question of
do or die
the Game is called
take-the-ride, at all times
avoid blood-sucking Vampires
Strict insects in an
ultra strict machine
watching their wings
flutter pretty, all beat
in time bang against
a silent wall
koutou three times
It aint about numbers baby
nor who’s who in the Zoo
it’s about writing your story
lock, stock and smoking barrel
keeping it true
Cover all mirrors
old is dead
born is new
Mornings rise with Sun
Fold your cards,
Hearts are trumps
Win-Win
what's done is done
time to de-robe and run, run, run
You're a novitiate skating
daily in your black
Nun's habit, it's way way
tragique, it's all a bit,
"La députée a raconté
une histoire très tragique",
find a new Boo.
Passports,
TRANSIT LOUNGE
Airport
Escape the Zoo.
Time to Do-the-Do
Novitiate throw
off your Black habit
Perfume
Rouge lipstick
New shoes
Yeah, put on your
Kavorka
New You
Double Deluxe Choc Chip
take the double cream
and cherry too.
Escaping the Zoo
True Romance.
OUR STORY
Me and You
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
"Temple of Love"/Johnny Hollow
https://youtu.be/p64wbdRBzjk
Like A Whirlwind
Dawn reawakes the senses of a drowsy sky
with a golden smile lifting pale clouds high
Stars their astral light fade and then vanish
behind the wall of darkness without a trace
Rays penetrate living cells of all those alive
assuage even the tiniest creatures to thrive
Leaves are the umbrellas for busy beehives
a sort of refuge as they go about their lives
Oceans stir their beds while flying fish soar
honing gliding skills as dancing waves roar
Twelve bald eagles spread their wings fully
floating on thermal currents so effortlessly
On city streets folks hurry to work like bots
invading fire ants hurriedly horded peanuts
Sirens blare as police chased cars speeding
then Planet Earth incessantly keeps turning
11:32 a.m.
11/24/2025
La Quinta Inn
West Palm Beach, Florida
Do you know why that funny guy,
Jack, fell down his hill? Imploring Jill,
poor little thing, she followed him,
when she should have stood still.
To swing, dear Jack is not a fling,
and Mr. Fibon was quite clear.
Beehives have honey, and it's not funny,
that it's now knot the honey, Bear.
In the pale of water, there were two Os,
And to fetch One more your task.
You reached the top, you decided to stop,
You sat, and opened that flask.
Indeed and at last....
Jill in shock, the earth did rock
and the sky let out a cry! Jack fell down
and broke his crown as the rain
fell down from on high.
Jack, in fear jumped startled in tears,
lost his footing as he stumbled on back.
Jill in tears, four Jacks she feared
and she followed him, into the dark....
But I heard the Lark...
And he said to me...
There come a kin, when the waters change.
Look still to the reeds, they rearranged.
Near the edge of sea, there two will be...
They lost their way,
when Thunder played.
Tumbled down the hill,
when they should have stayed.
Rolled the @@s...
but they ran away.
And Fibonacci knew the way,
He showed the Maya how to play.
He said... "This way..."
Four and Four are forty four,
Count the One and roll The.O@,
"There come a day..." he said,
We'll know....
0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 144 (as hours 144 = 6 days)
...1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 1440 (and Sunday)
144 is also the 13th number in Fibonacci
(if you count the leading zero).
0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 144
12th if you “roll The.O”
1440 are ‘minutes’ in One.Day…
Form: