'Like the silence that screams, cursing solitude...
whispers of faith sing patiently with prayers.'
(Quoted by Regina Mc Intosh)
Hung suspended from hive rafters hexagonal
Leader Lady Ruler Bee gorges imprudent
Heavy duty seeps striped desirous abdominal
Workers hover, rush beneath Queen exuberant
Team enthusiasm pumps a syrup scaffold
Propolis produces massed mission belligerent
Numb buzzing bumblers fumble fated cuckold
Hunger for cohesion, gold body encompass
Busy anonymous paupers, sources unresolved
Eager in sweetness, clan clustered accomplice
Reverently fulfills each gluttonous request
Swift need swords stung in caustic redundance
Plump with pupae, flightless wings flouresced
Polar iceberg cream honey hearts can't ingest
13th January 2021
Written for Contest: Terza Rima Quote
Sponsor: Regina Mc Intosh
I liked the wean(Scottish for child) who tasted glue first
Honoured to see the bullies as the bullied turned their face
Caught the eye of ever trust
Taking hope intravenously or two tablets a day
Watch the sheep
Yeah about that I still like SHOOP
that wants to be a cloud
Seen lust keep me still
Showed my skin pathways for the rain
or the cloud that wanted
Yeah i hung it there
Why no Snoop on the call waiting
this is the amble before
Tried to dodge a bullet we arranged to have coffee
I have worn a skin of oil
as it fed on form below
Not PRI but something MAL in between
Servings for four
which were given to eight
Sent you to bed half-hungry,
and woke you up half-late
Then going to school
without a brown bag
Had your eyes glazed,
gazing at doughnuts
through the bakery glass
Yeah, going to school
without a brown bag
Had your young mind drifting,
dreaming of chow
while dozing off in class
A half-empty stomach
doesn't help you learn fast
Lunchtime is approaching,
finally something to eat at last
But having only one good meal a day,
strangely, will help you out later in life
Teaches you how to do without food,
no need for a spoon, fork or knife
You will have been conditioned to fast,
feeding your belly becomes a low pri-o
And at night, there's no need to ask
how far can a half-filled plate go
Here we go. Stomach churning, brain burning.
Together mixing up a bit of that cha-os.
Body built up, mind fortified, but resistance is fu-tile.
All that training and that experience, trumped by the infantile.
Mature and rational thoughts interrupted by what's pri-mal.
The urge to survive contrasts the pity if it dies
and my instincts run hay-wire.
Nothing stops it, no explanation will do.
This is the last-straw.
I accept the words but am confused by the actions.
What is going on here?
My minds a blur, filled with reactions.
What's lying underneath here?
I take any fact in stride, I swallow my pride.
But are we really getting stuck here?
Visions creep, my heart begins to weep
but I straighten up my bow tie.
Slap in the face, I can't take this disgrace.
My confidence is so high.
Light up, sit back, recollect and play back
every moment that's gone by.
I give up trying to understand.
It's too complicated and I just let it ride.