The buzzing of the flies does not turn them into bees.
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My! My! Honeycomb
(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Recorded in 1975, this was bonnies first ever recording! lyrics taken from careful listening.
Here I am in the city
With a picture of you in my head
I remember that night
The words you said
You told me I was pretty
With the moon shining down on my hair
Im hung up on you now
But youre not there
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Wrote you so many letters
I was hoping youd answer with flowers
Then I sat by myself
To watch the hours
But you didnt come boy
Not a word, not a call, not a thing
Dont you know how it hurts me
When you sting
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Buzzing
Masks and a fake skin.
The builders keep breaking
The buzzing.
Attracted to the innocent.
The wolves lead the sheep.
The buzzing.
With a stare to crush their hopes and water.
To drown the flies.
Thier hands fall apart when we need to hold them.
And the skeleton speaks of what we've told them.
The buzzing.
They stare with the eyes of wolves
song performed by by Zao from Parade Of Chaos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: The Bees Never Give Up
Every time, they crush the bees to death and
Steal away their sweet honey in a trice;
And wax to make candles of immense size;
The Queen bee escapes to another land.
The bees comeback; with vengeance start again
A small bee-hive in the very same place!
They work extra in the sun and in rain,
Buzzing to flowers in a frenzied pace.
And soon their hive has been rebuilt and full,
Of sweet honey and larvae that are fed;
The bees continuing without a lull,
Searching for more nectar in every mead.
How well Nature takes care of its species!
Man must learn from the bee-hive and the bees.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City of Death
The city reminded her
Of a room full of dark flies;
The constant sound of buzzing;
The frightening hitting of
Bodies against the sides; but
Something more disturbing was
Brought to mind: the memory
Of Mr Danzinki who
Died in a room up on Eastside,
And no one found him for months
On end, and the flies got in
And laid their seeds, and they came
To fruition and buzzed in
Turn, and when his rescuers
Opened the door of the room,
There was that awful smell of
Decomposition, and a
Swarm of flies, and the image
That someone told her as a
Child of the sickening find,
Took up residence in her
Mind and stayed there, and somehow
Related to the city, and
The whole buzz and noise of the
Place, and maybe some dying
Corpse down there in the moving
Throng, and a sense of death and
Dying in the city's air.
poem by Terry Collett
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There are many who keep buzzing like bees wondering why no honey comes of it.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Day In October
The flies are buzzing in the sunshine and the little dark brown honeybees
Are busily gathering nectar from the flowers of the blossoming trees
On a beautiful day in October of around 27 degrees
And Nature she is at her calmest with only a very faint breeze
Under the house eaves lined with lots of feathers the house sparrows have their nest of hay
Non singers devoted to chirping they seem to chirp all through the day
Such beauty to inspire poets and artists the beauty that Nature create
The willy wagtail with tail wagging is perched on the back garden gate
A tiny black and white long tailed flycatcher always on the look out for flies
One who mobs the much bigger magpie undaunted it does seem by size,
A beautiful day in October butterflies flitting in the sunlight
And fuchsias and roses in full bloom such things that make a pretty sight
And Nature she is at her calmest with only a very slight breeze
And all around the sunlit garden the buzzings of flies and of bees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Bee-Boy's Song
Bees! Bees! Hark to your bees!
"Hide from your neigbours as much as you please,
But all that has happened, to us you must tell,
Or else we will give you no honey to sell!"
A maiden in her glory,
Upon her wedding - day,
Must tell her Bees the story,
Or else they'll fly away.
Fly away -- die away --
Dwindle down and leave you!
But if you don't deceive your Bees,
Your Bees will not deceive you.
Marriage, birth or buryin',
News across the seas,
All you're sad or merry in,
You must tell the Bees.
Tell 'em coming in an' out,
Where the Fanners fan,
'Cause the Bees are just about
As curious as a man!
Don't you wait where the trees are,
When the lightnings play,
Nor don't you hate where Bees are,
Or else they'll pine away.
Pine away -- dwine away --
Anything to leave you!
But if you never grieve your Bees,
Your Bees'll never grieve you.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Breaking News
breaking news
is like honeycomb
you must remove
the buzzing bees
to get the honey
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Daffodils
Un vert soldat returns from war,
in green vast spreads and daffodils,
with bees to buzz above the gore,
he bleeds in haze from deathly bore,
dropping red drops on weeds and flor',
euphoric feed this ground of kills,
Un vert soldat returns from war,
in green vast spreads and daffodils,
O maker of the bees and flow'rs,
this is the field he run when small,
with birds on trees singing to stars,
the buzzing bees don't know of wars,
amid the souls that take this course,
utopian was his standing tall,
O maker of the bees and flow'rs,
this is the field he run when small.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Spring
Buzzing of the bees –
Flowers of spring are in bloom
And emits sweet smell!
poem by Asif Andalib
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A Psalm
I wish you each crystal blue morning sky,
the doves cooing in love in the berry trees,
the bees buzzing on the early breeze,
for you’re live to freeze
when you are the happiest.
May the one that you love, care for
or just are in love with from a distance
turn your world around, find a way
to surprise you while you talk
and guide you to walk along
to your piece of paradise.
May every dream be a blessing
and those blessings come true
and may the sun
always shine on you
with a better new day.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Impossibility Dreams
thoughts buzzing
through the mind
an expansive feeling
why should bumble bees
have all impossibility fun?
take flight on vision dreams
poem by Terence George Craddock
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To sleep after sunrise was impossible on account of the number of flies which kept buzzing about the face.
quote by George Grey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bridegroom
Sheltering beneath the trees
bees buzzing
benevolence
tiny white papery blossoms
confetti-like
falling down on me
but who is the bridegroom
and where is he?
poem by Gillian Commerford
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full bloomed cherry plum
bees' buzzing gentle song –
semantron far tones
haiku by Letiţia Iubu from Steps on the Sand (Paşi pe nisip) (2013), translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Jiving Around Other Hives
If bees perceived themselves,
To be the honey brought inside the hive...
Instead of playing a part,
Of making that sweet taste come alive.
The realness of the honey,
Would not exist.
And no one would experience the taste of it.
No one would crave the sensation to be kissed.
And all that is that is taken for granted,
From our minds would be dismissed.
So you aint the honey.
You just the bee.
Together we make the honey.
And you may believe,
You can have your honey without me.
But I will tell you right now,
Wherever you go...
Thinking you're all that,
You will realize all you attract alone are flies.
Buzzing artificially jiving around other hives.
Believing I wait for you to come back from that trap.
And that honey you made with me...
Is a taste I guarantee you will miss.
But slipping back to unpack your crap...
With me,
Aint gon happen'.
To me...
You've become just another,
Wannabe fly by!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild Bees
Can you hear wild bees
buzzing?
Can you scent
bright wings alight
on Spring's first blooms?
Open your heart -
there's no se[n]t distance -
key-cue into
unspoken clue...
Kneed
Honey
prepared for you...
[c] Jonathan Robin after robi3_1302_smol1_0002 Sonja Smolec Wild Horses written 26 January 2007 former title Buzz Words
Wild Horses
Can you hear wild bees
buzzing?
Can you scent
bright wings alight
on Spring's first blooms?
Open your heart -
there's no se{n]t distance -
key-cue into
unspoken clue...
Kneed
Honey
prepared for you...
© Sonja Smolec
http: //allpoetry.com/poem/2562294
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Daring JearBear
He’s not the average scared bear,
He’s a bear that really dares.
Dares to climb high into the sky,
up to his tree house as bees fly by.
Bees flying around his honeycomb,
Really close to his tree house home.
He swats them away with his big bear claw,
Then he goes into his house and has a gnaw.
He naws on his favorite bite,
It’s a hamburgers filled with dust mites.
Then he goes to cut some zzzz’s
Then he starts to dream,
of funny things like buzzing bees.
Then he feels a sting,
it’s a real bee stinging his knee.
He jumps up and makes a roar,
he runs out his tree house door.
Jumps down to the ground
and jumps in the lake,
he feels relief and has a great day.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 20,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Daring JearBear
He's not the average scared bear,
He's a bear that really dares.
Dares to climb high into the sky,
up to his tree house as bees fly by.
Bees flying around his honeycomb,
Really close to his tree house home.
He swats them away with his big bear claw,
Then he goes into his house and has a gnaw.
He naws on his favorite bite,
It's a hamburgers filled with dust mites.
Then he goes to cut some zzzz's
Then he starts to dream,
of funny things like buzzing bees.
Then he feels a sting,
it's a real bee stinging his knee.
He jumps up and makes a roar,
he runs out his tree house door.
Jumps down to the ground
and jumps in the lake,
he feels relief and has a great day.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 20,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sulking Flowers
Comparing the bees to the wandering males of human species,
Disheartening the waiting souls at the threshold of floral genesis,
For the pollen these bees brought unknowingly,
The generous flowers tip the nectar unconditionally.
Bees are the messengers, not the rapists as human,
Bees are the servants, not the incest driven as human,
Bees are the courier carriers, not the molesters as human,
Bees are innocent, not the illusionists scoundrels as human.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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