Christmas rose, Iphianassa suffers in her soul’s asylum, your elixir the only
panacea for fox-skinned maínomai
Lonely sawsan, proud swords erected in red dead rivers of brotherly love,
refugees granting asylum to lost birthrights
Tempestuous mirella, vagrant sadist cutting Cheshire grins
into your fantasies, il mio timore più grande era che io morissi prima di te
Peaceful kardi, atlas moths sway against Solomon’s palms, carrying
pollinated songs to queens of sun-born blackness in Amana’s sanctuary
How human
is human nature?
Alas, then, is nature
by default also human?
Human not soulfully enliven?
Just deposed products
of the same, natural
mystery?
So, is Nature or Man
to blame? -- is it devil
or God
or simply
the pollinated seed
perpetually alive in every
duplicating spontaneous
naturally manipulated oblivious
spiritually vacant pod?
The bees are hooked
Played by the scented temptation
The beauty of the escape
Into the fullness
Of a pollinated peace
Short lived this ecstasy
This joyous satiation
Driven by intoxications
Irreversible need
For more of what caused it
Sunrise, the opening flower
Aglow in a distant phantasy
Brushing away the fog
Rekindling an un-stoked fire
An ember craving ignition
Slowly they will emerge
Leave their hidden hives
Seek out the fluorescent petals
Of that ever illusive
Pollinated peace
On a tree
Overcome by the scent of citrus
Sitting on a branch plucking fruit
With the rhythmic sound of grass below me
The wind blowing the grass like waves
Filling the air with musicality
The blossoms
Yellow and white
With the possibility to be greater than buds
Tightly closed but ready to open
Offshoots of the bigger, stronger branch
I have this quiet moment to myself
To admire nature at its finest
Chewing on honeysuckle
The blossoms are shaped like stars
Soft and round petals
But pointy,
Permeating through the casing they are trapped in
A star, that when pollinated, grows
Growing into the tangy fruit that we know
Complex thoughts
need simple words
The meaning foremost
verse to show
The mind expands
new seeds put down
Cross pollinated
left to grow
The soil fertile
just sun and rain
As fields once fallow
rise anew
The world awaits
each problem solved
In cyphers brief
— with letters few
(Rosemont College: January, 2024)
sweet is the nectar
chosen you are a flower
milkweed and aster
~
favorite blossom
preference "bee" popular
pollinated plants
~
borage bee come in
inside me lick access my
nectar juices source
~
daisies water me
my patient honey bee year
round my coneflower
~
provide juice for me
ahh! the butterfly and bee
my Blackeye Susan
~
sweet is your nectar
I love beyond your juices
I suck flavor juice
~
preference blossom
chosen you are a flower
milkweed and aster
9/26/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
"Bag o’ sweets"
like fantales chewed slowly
the concept of what’s left
sucks on the sweet marrow of it
sticky caramel pages
stuck in between flowers pressing
the parallax pollen view of it
never hallowed
the wrappers flimsy, quaint
short stories unwrapped
violet crumbles
pollinated footprints
left like scorched fingerprints
melting moments
spooning the soothing
of deep thinking honeytraps
candy years
worn like necklaces
loved and worshipped like crucifixes
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
INTERVIEW WITH A DYING TREE-
I stand erect I embrace we
You cover me I am under you us
Grounded together we two
I am of you, we both stand in the wind
Both sprightliness, yet of skins
I die daily, my skin sheds
We gather this meeting we hug a conference created beings
In examination whose evaluation our dialogue audience
Exchange canvass the 3rd degree who said you’re a dying tree
I shed skin you shed buds and leaves daily
I speak life, live tree I speak life into me
You’re created-higher than the grounds
You’re created to cleanse the air
So that I may breathe the breath of God
You’re confer with
You’re pollinated
You’re survey you sound out ascertain the opinion of doubt
You shall not be disease nor die out I speak life I decree
I speak life, no you shall not be hewed, nor are you diseased
I speak life, you’re not said a dying tree
6/24/23
For “The Interview” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
In my favorite store the "Book Nook",
on a leaf I saw a ladybug reading a book!
She looked up with the tiniest smile,
said, "Hello, have a seat, read awhile."
Astounded I was by this clever little bug,
an insect that I just wanted to hug
and found myself engaged in a conversation,
about the wisdom of the insect nation.
So profound and wise I found her to be,
she read to me, while swinging her tiny feet;
said she, with tiny voice, "Did you know,
that my species allows the plants to grow?"
"We dine on thousands of aphids, you see;
while they get pollinated by the bees.
To faeries I often give many rides,
throughout the gardens, far and wide."
"Shall I tell my cousins of your garden needs?
I assure you, with our work you'll be pleased."
So, about three thousand I did invite
and they keep our garden growing just right.
2-21-2023
Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Eve Roper
Named as a flowering city;
By a strange happenstance.
For of new ideas, buzzing round
Twas then pollinated.
Which seeded this other glory
Time's renaissance.
Among all the epochs, the one
Lily; highest rated.
The hybrid flower was something to smell and see
I had no idea such a delicate floral could ever be
I was excited at the fragrance, it bowled over me.
And to think it was pollinated by my Uncle Lee!
He stings like a bee
but Oh, how he loves me
Cuddles and huddles
we are sweeter as doubles
pollinated love seeds
two affectionate reeds
holding on to my honey
as if he were a bunny
tumbles and buzzes
there are no becauses
we simply love each other
like sister and brother
he stings like a bee
but Oh, how he loves me
The breeze it carries many things whispered willow winds
Pollinated particles of dust where new life can begin
A breeze of leaves departing from life on dead branches
The fresh smell of all the nights in the hidden hills of ranches
Clouds and storms so violently cause chaos and destruction
To light rains of springtime norm creating a bloom production
From a kitchen window it warns of a good home cooked meal
A child's scream as the kite he holds reels, & reels, & reels
From memories that reminds you of the night of a first kiss
And soft odor of your love it just doesn't get better than this
Bmdavey@06/223
We interchange our work in perfect plans
through nature's symbiotic grand design.
We, honeybees, fly through the open skies
to seek our sustenance from nature's gifts.
Antennae guide safe landing onto plants
and blossoms that provide sweet nectar stored;
then carried by our worker-bees back home-
where honey's formed in hives to feed our young.
Plant pollen on our bodies will transfer
to other blooms and recreate more life;
new flowers, trees, but also vegetables
and fruits will grow to feed the hungry world.
The honey from our hives provides your treats,
and pollinated plants sprout foods you eat.
We interact in sharing these fine gifts
supporting nature's grand survival plans.
May 25, 2022
~NA~
Contest: Bee Creative Poetry
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Judged: 07/17/2022
(revision of a previous poem posted: 9/19/2016)
Smiling brightly,
a field of happy faces
in golden glow;
dressed in their finest
variegated greens and gold’s,
they dance upon the breeze.
Pollinated by the bees,
seeds devoured by the birds,
nourish all life;
from birth to death to birth;
a symphony of beauty,
displayed upon Gaia’s breast.
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