You've never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive.
quote by Jean Cocteau
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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Two Children
Two children (small), one Four, one Five,
Once saw a bee go in a hive,
They'd never seen a bee before!
So waited there to see some more.
And sure enough along they came
A dozen bees (and all the same!)
Within the hive they buzzed about;
Then, one by one, they all flew out.
Said Four: 'Those bees are silly things,
But how I wish I had their wings!'
poem by Spike Milligan
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The Mirror Struggled
The mirror struggled; reflecting beauty such as hers
Prescribed a glory in the challenge – a fairytale
Or such as like! To shimmer back hypnotic hues
From auras of her skin – how do mirrors cope?
Hoary tales of pretty adolescent buds
Could never hope to match the tomes of dreamy
Pulchritude apprising us of such a belle as she.
The mirror shone; and as it worked itself, a moment –
Did it overlook the hidden melancholy?
Were melting eyes bedewed–? Florid lips imbued
With mournfulness? The hindrance of the silver glass!
Oh! to seek – to know the meaning of the sorrow!
She (with tearful hair, an image out of heaven)
Never opened up her heart. The mirror struggled.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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My Bees: An Allegory
"O bees, sweet bees!" I said, "that nearest field
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles.
Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells."
Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield,
I set, and patient for the autumn's yield
Of sweet I waited.
When the village bells
Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells
The chestnuts leaped, rejoicing, I unsealed
My hive.
Alas! no snowy honey there
Was stored. My wicked bees had borne away
Their queen and left no trace.
That very day,
An idle drone who sauntered through the air
I tracked and followed, and he led me where
My truant bees and stolen honey lay.
Twice faithless bees! They had sought out to eat
Rank, bitter herbs. The honey was not sweet.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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On A Honey Bee
Thou born to sip the lake or spring,
Or quaff the waters of the stream,
Why hither come on vagrant wing?--
Does Bacchus tempting seem--
Did he, for you, the glass prepare?--
Will I admit you to a share?
Did storms harrass or foes perplex,
Did wasps or king-birds bring dismay--
Did wars distress, or labours vex,
Or did you miss your way?--
A better seat you could not take
Than on the margin of this lake.
Welcome!--I hail you to my glass:
All welcome, here, you find;
Here let the cloud of trouble pass,
Here, be all care resigned.--
This fluid never fails to please,
And drown the griefs of men or bees.
What forced you here, we cannot know,
And you will scarcely tell--
But cheery we would have you go
And bid a glad farewell:
On lighter wings we bid you fly,
Your dart will now all foes defy.
Yet take not oh! too deep a drink,
And in the ocean die;
Here bigger bees than you might sink,
Even bees full six feet high.
Like Pharaoh, then, you would be said
To perish in a sea of red.
Do as you please, your will is mine;
Enjoy it without fear--
And your grave will be this glass of wine,
Your epitaph--a tear--
Go, take your seat in Charon's boat,
We'll tell the hive, you died afloat.
poem by Philip Freneau
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Telling the bees
It was the year before last that
I started to notice it.
Bees wandered into the house
then didn’t remember the way back
Bees. Whose sense of direction used to be
great than any Indian scout;
as if mankind had lost its most valuable gift
-what might that be?
Scientists are still working on the reasons.
There were more lost bees last year;
when they’re half exhausted and quieten down,
staying on the window pane for a few second more,
I take a jam jar and a piece of paper
and take them to the door
talking to them as I did when
I buried that baby swallow when I was four;
indecipherable words that I would use
to a cat run over in the road,
a child in pain; some sort of sounds
of consolation for what’s beyond words anyway
that only music could express.
It’s ancient: you should talk to bees;
tell them of all that affects the house, the family;
when there’s a death, you put a piece of black cloth
on the hive. In return, they do things for you
that are beyond your notice or their explanation.
How can I tell them, we’re so sorry for you, we don’t know,
when we do we’ll tell you; it’s probably our fault,
chemicals and stuff. So far this year, only one
huge bumble-bee, I couldn’t catch it;
it hid from me. Perhaps they’ve learned
whatever it is they had forgotten;
perhaps they risked their lives
to warn us: you too have forgotten
something that could kill your species:
you too, have forgotten the way back…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Tearful Eyes
The mirror laughed; it gleaned my thoughts
And saw me cry my want:
Synthetic views - pathetic clues
To how I tick - and now you taunt,
You bleeding mirror, jibe another!
Just because I dream…
To be the mighty hero wise!
And perch atop the sodden hill
Of blood and pungent death,
To lead our race from sure demise.
Let's regain, collect, and rest
Before the battle slams
Our dauntless nerve. And now to rise!
Come follow me - we'll slay the foe!
See my cloak unfurl.
Through screams and wails, he fails and dies.
Look! he falls across his minions'
Path. I laugh aloud.
My warriors hold me to the skies.
Overhead the clouds recede,
Thinning out the black.
And then I fade in pallid lies.
Returning back to conscious state,
I let the mirror slate me:
Fathoming my remote disguise,
Reflecting back my hopeless lot.
Oh to smash the thing!
If I could see through tearful eyes.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Mirror...
I Looked At The Mirror
Mirror, Looked Back At Me
I Asked The Mirror
What Do You See?
The Mirror Smiled
“Same As You See”
I Touched The Mirror
The Mirror, Touched Me
Pressing To Break Thru
Glass Vanity
For Tho’ Eye To Eye
Sometimes I See
Mirror’s Right
Is Left To Me
And My Right Side … Made Mirror Left
I Got Perplexed At Imagery
And I Turned Away From Mirror
And Mirror Turned From Me
Our Backs To Each Other
Exposed Rigidly
But, Both Turned Back To Face
And Touch Same Place, And Be
Contained and Content
In Each Other’s Space Respectfully
We Shattered The Barrier
Between Mirror and Me
Back To Reflecting Our World
And The Same Things, We See …
Oh … Mirror, Mirror …
Reflecting You … Seeing Me …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Mamma's Reflection
I dust my cloth
Across the glass
I cannot see her
But she's there
I know
Her pale eyes
Watch me from
The mirror:
Her only window
Now
From the mirror
She watches
From the mirror
She looks
In the mirror
Trapped where you
Cannot see
In the mirror
Prismed
Another me-
The ghost
That haunts
The ghost
That weeps
poem by Isabelle Cooper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Working On You
(jim collins/craig wiseman)
You woke up this morning
Changes were taking place
You looked in the mirror
A smile was all over your face
cause out of nowhere
Someone was there
Who dared to climb
Those walls you made
Its exciting, a little frightening
But girl dont you be afraid
Thats just the love working
Love working on you
Thats just the love working
Working on pulling you through
Cant even remember
All the sorrow that you left behind
Its a brand new day
Theres a bright new way
And your tears have turned into wine
You never forget
When your eyes met
Or just how clearly you could see
Where the turns are deep in your heart
That lead you to believe
Thats just the love working
Love working on you
Thats just the love working
Working on pulling you through
All of the while you felt forsaken
And all of the while
Loves been waiting, waiting
Suddenly you see how it could be
If we all only felt this way
And for a while girl you can see this world
Looking through the eyes of fate
Thats just the love working
Love working on you
Thats just the love working
Working on pulling you through
Thats just the love working
Love working on you
Thats just the love working
Working on pulling you through
Thats just the love working on you
Thats just the love working
Working on pulling you through
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Images, Distorted Views
Every mirror tells a tale,
My mirror is a memory I do not wish to tell
Eery reflection has a story yet to be told,
They say the mirror never lies, but that's all my mirror ever sold
Look Into the reflective piece of glass, that mirror, pool or lake,
Gaze into the lie and realise that it's fake
Oh you look so classy in the mirror, but take a look inside,
Your body spins a different song, there's things your eyes can not hide,
Now I use a different mirror, one that doesn't lie,
Mirror Mirror in the sky, look down in judgement from up high
Give me the facts, tell me the truth,
Strip away the layers of lies, right back to my youth,
The image I see in the mirror is not good enough, it just won't do,
The person starring back is perfect, but I'm just not you.
poem by Ralph Acosta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Images, Distorted Views
Every mirror tells a tale,
My mirror is a memory I do not wish to tell
Eery reflection has a story yet to be told,
They say the mirror never lies, but that's all my mirror ever sold
Look Into the reflective piece of glass, that mirror, pool or lake,
Gaze into the lie and realise that it's fake
Oh you look so classy in the mirror, but take a look inside,
Your body spins a different song, there's things your eyes can not hide,
Now I use a different mirror, one that doesn't lie,
Mirror Mirror in the sky, look down in judgement from up high
Give me the facts, tell me the truth,
Strip away the layers of lies, right back to my youth,
The image I see in the mirror is not good enough, it just won't do,
The person starring back is perfect, but I'm just not you.
poem by Phil Whittaker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mirror Mirror
Mirror mirror
You tell lies
Who put crows feet
Round my eyes?
Mirror mirror
Hanging there
Who put that grey
In my hair?
Mirror mirror
Is that me
Is that really
Me I see?
Mirror Mirror
Stop your fun
That's not me
That is my mum
Mirror mirror
Don't stare back
For it's bad luck
If you should crack
Mirror mirror
On days like these
When what I see
Doesn't please
Mirror mirror
My mood this day
Will ask you turn
The other way!
poem by Stevie Taite
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Garden Wedding
Bees were working the lavender
as a seagull flew in blue sky
red rose's perfume did wendan
the air scented breeze wafted by
Young couples prim in their proper
the elders stood off to the side
Photographer posed as poser
the beauty in beholders eye
Bees were working the lavender
as a seagull sang in new sky
the bride shoes rose color purpleness
her groom stumping rose white, near nye
Bees kept working the lavender
A seagull flew swiftly far sky
yellow rose dress bride surrendered
To her white knight with kiss, near fly
Mirror, Mirror
Mirror mirror just watchin' with your eye of glass
You're just a fortune wheel with something that i wanna ask
Mirror mirror got my fate lyin' in your hands
You're the fool, you're the juggler
Hangman and lover, you're not like no other
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me what you see
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me is it true?
Take a look into my eyes
Oh when i look at you
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me is it me?
Is it really me?
Mirror mirror gotta know just what you see
My crystal ball, you're lookin' so sly and so sleazy
Mirror mirror hangin' there with that crack in your eye
You make me stumble, make me blind
Time after time and line by line
Mirror mirror oh tell me
You're the fool, you're the juggler
I ain't met a lover, you're like no other
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me what you see
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me is it true?
Take a look into my eyes
Oh it just can't last
Take a look into my eyes
Gonna have to smash the glass
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look
Take a look into my eyes
Oh yeah
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look
Take a look into my eyes
Look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me if it's me
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House At Pooh Corner
Christopher robin and I walked along
As the branches lit up by the moon
Posing our questions to owl and eyore
As our days disappeared all too soon
But I wandered much farther today than I should
And I cant seem to find my way back to the woods
So help me if you can Ive got to get
Back to the house at pooh corner by one
Youd be surprised theres so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of christopher robin and pooh
Winnie the pooh doesnt know what to do
Got a honey jar stuck on his nose
Now he came to me asking help and advice
And from here no one knows where he goes
So I sent him to ask of the owl if hes there
How to loosen a jar from the nose of a bear
So help me if you can Ive got to get
Back to the house at pooh corner by one
Youd be surprised theres so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of christopher robin and pooh
So help me if you can Ive got to get
Back to the house at pooh corner by one
Youd be surprised theres so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of christopher robin
Back to the ways of christopher robin
Back to the ways of pooh
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Eyes
No eyes for beautiful talk,
Or living beyond sight,
Stung by the bees and wasps
In flight from a tree or realm.
A television is naming scenes
We desire to inflict and employ
To really conquer,
For sight is a real pledge.
The bees and their hive
Rest in safe qualms, filling.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Hive At Gettysburg
IN the old Hebrew myth the lion's frame,
So terrible alive,
Bleached by the desert's sun and wind, became
The wandering wild bees' hive;
And he who, lone and naked-handed, tore
Those jaws of death apart,
In after time drew forth their honeyed store
To strengthen his strong heart.
Dead seemed the legend: but it only slept
To wake beneath our sky;
Just on the spot whence ravening Treason crept
Back to its lair to die,
Bleeding and torn from Freedom's mountain bounds,
A stained and shattered drum
Is now the hive where, on their flowery rounds,
The wild bees go and come.
Unchallenged by a ghostly sentinel,
They wander wide and far,
Along green hillsides, sown with shot and shell,
Through vales once choked with war.
The low reveille of their battle-drum
Disturbs no morning prayer;
With deeper peace in summer noons their hum
Fills all the drowsy air.
And Samson's riddle is our own to-day,
Of sweetness from the strong,
Of union, peace, and freedom plucked away
From the rent jaws of wrong.
From Treason's death we draw a purer life,
As, from the beast he slew,
A sweetness sweeter for his bitter strife
The old-time athlete drew!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Just for joy, take from my palms
Just for joy, take from my palms
A little sun, a little honey,
As Persephone's bees commanded.
An unfastened boat cannot be untied.
A shade shod in fur cannot be heard.
In the dense forest of life fear cannot be overcome.
Only kisses are left for us.
Furry, like small bees
That die when they leave the hive.
They rustle in transparent thickets of night,
Their home is the dense Taiga woods;
Their food -- time, honeysuckle, mint.
So take and enjoy my passionate gift,
A dry, unsightly necklace
Of dead bees, who changed honey into sun.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Their hive [Stupul lor]
Their small hive, on glen below,
Is defended all around
By three poplars full of snow,
Rising from the snowy ground.
The beekeeper left them there
And the winter covered all –
Bringing sadness and despair –
With a nice embroidered shawl.
Yet, inside the cozy hive
All the bees, without delay,
As a single body strive
And work hard, day after day.
For they never toil alone
But together, all the time,
Buzzing on a lively tone
They make honey sweet, sublime.
poem by Tudor Arghezi, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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