Sleepy, when my arm went over you, the trapdoor slipped open as always And we fell in stuttered flight, like bees drowning in sugar water set out in the lids of jars Tongues and stingers slurred with nectar, our waggle-dance instead a stumble Drunken semaphores to the Sandman – Instead of: "follow this way to forage, to hive, to hoard" He reads: “Turn left at Chicago, ride the ferry in your dwarf costume, and meet us in the Shatterproof Café” Which becomes someone else's dream tonight while we linger on the veranda, our bower draped in honeycomb
For Shay’s Word Garden and The Sunday Muse
Very nice.😊👍
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I like that second stanza with the drowning in a jar lid, it’s so vivid and not such a bad way to go, to drown in sweetness, eh? Thanks so much fr being part of the List; we were a small tribe this time.
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Thanks. I guess as long as I’m going to be saccharine t, it’s lethal.
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From the first line this makes us feel what your words make us see Qbit. I too love the stanza that speaks of falling and drowning in that sweetness. Your poetry is always so surreal and amazing my friend. I am so glad you joined in at both prompts! You killed two birds with one stone so magnificently!
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LOL! Thanks. Appreciate you stopping by, I know how busy you are.
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Flying through dreamland the way we do here, where being a bee is quite a natural concept, we can find a sort of Kerouacian template for wanderlust and rebellion from the hive, even if it brings along the risk of drowning sugar-drunk. I love the way this just grabs the reader and pulls them along, its honey very heady and its words alive in its very visual bee-body. Last stanza is my favorite, but the first is pretty damn good as well. Sweet and very satisfying.
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Thank you. Your thoughtful comments are always amazing.
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Someone else’s dream indeed, give me the sweet-draped bower and thou.
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… well not literally the ‘thou’ part.
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Ahahaha! Of course.
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Staying in tonight, your writer. I had to look up the word, bower (draped in honeycomb). Big bees, huh? I enjoyed reading it.
..
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LOL! Thanks!
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while we linger on the veranda,
our bower draped in honeycomb”
Some very interesting images, but the above is my favourite.
Thanks for dropping by my blog.
Much❤love
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So much to love in this poem…this bit especially “And we fell in stuttered flight,
like bees drowning in sugar water set out in the lids of jars”
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Thank you!!
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I’m not sure why exactly, but this made me think of David Lynch films, if he were to write poetry it would read like this.
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LOL! I suspect you are right. At least the dwarf ferry bit!
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Love the smoothness of the last stanza.
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Thanks!!
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