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Aa Harvey Jul 2019
Bee in the distance


As Humble flew along,
He could see some bees flying away in the distance.
He was so excited to see new bees,
That he flapped his wings as fast as he could,
To fight his way through all the turbulence.
The wind was against him, the bees so far,
But he was determined to meet them, so he flew like a shooting star.


There were two bees that seemed to bee following,
A much smaller bee who was in front.
Humble thought it must bee the leader,
Because it dodged quicker than the others could.
It zipped in and out of the tall corn stalks;
It would disappear down…and then shoot back up!
He could see the broken pieces of the corn as he flew above.


He didn’t know why they didn’t all just fly over, there was no rain;
But once more they all suddenly vanished again.
So he dived in after them and quickly made his way through the corn.
He had a few close calls and nearly hit his head more than once
And then suddenly he flew past something lying on the floor;
It began to shake its head, it was only stunned…


Humble quickly realised he had been chasing a much bigger wasp.
I’m out of here he thought and was quickly up and gone;
But out of the corner of his eye he saw something as he rose,
He saw the difference in size between one wasp and the other;
There was no way he could just go.
He had followed the wasp but now there was a bee;
It was further in the distance, but he couldn’t just leave,
The wasp to catch the bee, so with all his speed,
He sped after the wasp, giving it all that he had got.


As the wasp in front of him forever gained on the bee,
It suddenly felt a hand on its stinger and Humble gave it a twist,
With all his might, he span around as fast as he could,
The wasps head was spinning quickly, navigation on vacation
And with a mighty crash, there was a huge cloud of dust and a thud!
Humble kept on flying, feeling dizzy himself,
But he saw the line of the horizon and once more all was well.


Once more he got closer to the bee and said wait for me!
The bees eyesight wasn’t the best
And it could only hear a wasp still chasing, so began to flee.
It darted to the left and quickly back to the right,
Humble kept a close eye on its movements
And lined the bee up in his sights.


He was getting closer, so the bee flew straight up into the air;
Humble was determined to follow, so flew up without a care.
As the two bees rose up, going higher and higher,
Humble began to lose his strength and his body began to tire.
Soon his wings stopped and he could only drop;
The clouds above grew smaller and soon he would bee gone.
He closed his eyes and tried to flap his wings,
But his energy was gone, it wasn’t happening.
The ground approached at speed, he thought he was toast,
When suddenly a hand grabbed the back of his fur coat.
He tried to look behind him but he could not see,
The bee who was carrying him to a place of safety.


He started to flap his wings and shouted let me go!
He wiggled to escape but still the hand had a hold.
He span his body around so the other bee was closer to the ground
And he said let me go or I will fly down.


He was so busy trying to look over his shoulder
And reach the hand that had a grip,
That he didn’t see the sun flower ahead,
But the other bee did.


With a huge use of energy the other bee span them both back around
And let go of Humbles fur and disappeared without a sound.
Humble was moving too fast, to change his flight path
And suddenly he crashed and landed softly into the sun flower...

And as for the other bee?
Humble heard a laugh…


By the time he had found his composure
And made his way out of the flower,
The other bee had disappeared
And Humble was left alone to wonder…


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
The Vault Jul 2019
He had tattooed arms and tattoos up to his face
With two tears on his cheek just under his eye.
He had a little baby
Five months by what he said.
What happened to get the two tears?  
And what that show his child
When he has a dad who lives to be wild.
Axel Jul 2019
HIM
Don't call him angel, if you never see him sin.
Don't call him treasure, if you don't know anything.
But just call him danger, cause that's what perfectly suits him.
a poetry about me from someone's pov.
Mickey Jun 2019
You started a bonfire.
Oh baby, all I see is red.
And as I dance sensually with the flames.
I can feel it.
My soul.
It’s in danger.
something's there
i felt its tingle
it felt freeing
non-containable
it hasn't a name
but its something
truly beautiful
it's different
rather sensational
magical perhaps
pure adrenaline
unlike anything else
truly the highest high
what it is
or was
i know not
i simply know
i want more
I'm a total wuss but I'm also ADHD af and as a result, I love the idea of adventure. I'm sort of a thrill-seeker I guess.
nick armbrister May 2019
Things are wrong when there are more tigers kept as pets
Than living in the wild in their natural habitats
Human greed kills them off till they're extinct
Chinese herbal medicine using the tiger for alleged medicine
Hunters paying a million dollars to shoot one dead on a fake hunt
One of the most majestic animals ever to exist almost extinct
Fact and photos captured in history books and photographs
When they're gone they can never ever be recreated
That is only for script writers and authors in their stories...
Zywa Apr 2019
The hearth protects
the fire, and me against the fire
the house protects
against the fire from outside

the men and the boys
who flare up everywhere
in the flanks of the houses
they want to come inside

rage and beat to death
and then, with dry eyes
extinguish in ashes and impotence
that is the danger

to my inside world
of kitchen and bed
where I veil
my dull days
Collection “Webgarden”
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
Startle response! Wake--

When danger is ante
cipated,0h
--0n
lego-h-overedge aver
age
verbage re sighin'

clinging vines from debunked strings and
threads twisted wit'em.

Assume, if ye may or plea or will as
ye wont, pray means ask.

That's all.
Here, wit'afewmisstook aitches and spaces:
here is what we got,

a fresh secret story, un concerning anything you
believed you believed of/from/about idea ifify ie able ity ness

Reason requires response, Will Robinson.
Hidden persuaded, almost,
but lost...

Really,
what sacrifice bought
young John Carson to sublimnal
top 0'the mind status,
for the first two tv
generations?

Who do you trust? Carson's tv game
show debut, aimed at after school,
junior high, latch key,
wait staff on swing shift or graveyard,
the entire set of doin' nuttin'
'round Tea, fancy goin'

head t' head wit' Mickey Mouse Club,
on all the UHF stations out west.

It's 1957, who do you trust?
Time's man o'the year,
The Hungarian Freedom Fighter Idea,
the first stiffed
equal-value re
belicose cold war victim
of the famine for the grammar
of kindness and good sense
associated with DNA,
little green apples, puppy dogs,the
straight up command to love them that hate ye,
enemies and other words for folk
who would just as soon **** you
as hear one more word
about peace.

VOG,
words were scrambled,
christic crypt vacuum
tube
signal to noise ratio, caliber calculater pro
jection on to the rerewall o'yeardamnedbrain,

VOG Cancel
Bozo. This ad will **** for us. We can own the
'earts and minds of every grammar 'ater ever.

Since Babel, since Eber 'is 'ebrew ef-
fective, fervent...strainer at jots and tittlishit
self.

This ad makes mistook rules po'man laughable,
punch'n'judy'ishit:

Whom
do you trust, the grammarian so like so many
Deweyish proguess
edumacated teachers, you had this teacher,

squint, wrinkle nose, tight jibbs
frameless wire rimmed specs, a greying bun,

flower print dress wit' the weest bit o'lace,
lipless snide corrector's face. A trope archetype,
heroes re
bel
on demand, that was the plan. It
started with

AN AD. Who do you trust? Black and white,
Here's Johnny standing under the billboard,
y'know,
for the show, standin' like *******, shoulders
shrugged, palms up, elbo's bent

(contenintal suit, note the skinny tie, why?)
Who do you trust? Innocent grin, wordless
"Who knows?" or "knew"?

Whodjewtrust, in 1957? Cronkite, nicht wahr?
See the USA in the USA

in yo' Chevrolet, ole!
Yew should try Ritalin, for pep.

Take Serutan tonight, and sleep, safe and restful,
sleep, sleep sleep

VOG (Scourby) and, remember Serutan is Natures,
spelled backwards. Cue the choir,

safe and restful, sleep, sleep fade away

----
Where were you in 1962? Off t'college,
watchin' Johnny of Johnnies,

Johhny Quest, Johnny Lighting, Johnny Carson on

Tonight, there's more...
after the news, the dayroom in the dorm,

this is whence the quips in the quad were to be
sharpened wit'

fashion able ible tips, to fit the Esquire *** Hef
uniform dress code of mutual hidden

persuadeds.

Some souls were spared the spread of the
original tv virus, VHF, couldn't penetrate
the canyon...never subjected
to Howdy Doody,
our brains were spared the
complexes planted via the sit
com cowboy war subplot
phase of novus ordo
secluremishitistcal
experiments in
alientated
mind control.
We lived in the desert, in a place

a lot like Oscar's Oasis,
a wordless Korean Cartoon
set in a desert much like mine. On Netflix, 2019.

I did not watch the mandated ten thousand hours,
even when the deadline for party affiliation

mental ascent was ex
tended, circa 1985, pre-
tending to be a measure of de
fencing public universities from the
effect of rock and roll,

since about 1964

with folk like Dylan and Baez and Hallelujah
Jubilee and Jambalaya on d'Baya,
Herb's brass on the Baja, where all the girls
work it,
like 'otel Kali phornia, sticky,

sweet, like a taste of Honey. Mr.Bond,
meet Miss
Galore. OH GOD, in the car from the speaker
she heard the idea the meaning

in the name, oh god, she squeezed my hand.

Honor Blackman plays that role, she whispered.

Trust me. It's a good plan. We got these kids!

Mom and dad just won the war, had six kids in five years,

Levittown di'n't work out, couldn't go home,
mixed marriage, from the war.

Things hap, cajun catholic wannabe aerospace engineer spy guy,
lands in Alamagordo and environs,
Summer 1944.

Here we are, Equinox, loosing season, 2019,

so some prayers were for real.

Red somthin'r'other butterflies are riding a rare breeze
from the south to the north through my
makepeace home. My peace I give,
he said,
all that passed is unexplored, take all the time

you can imagine.

My wife knows the names of those butterflies,
that's part o'm'peace. Knowin' she cares to remember
such improbably beautiful things;

soul possessed in patience, is she.

footnote 1: Despite Ciba’s efforts to market Ritalin as a ‘pep pill’, the stimulant failed to become a best-seller.  But that was not the end of Ritalin’s story.  As early as the 1930s, psychiatrists working at a children’s psychiatric institution in Rhode Island, USA had noticed that stimulant drugs could have a positive effect on the academic performance and behaviour of troubled children.  Although few psychiatrists took notice of these observations at the time, by the late 1950s, escalating concern about the educational abilities of American children during the height of the Cold War encouraged Ciba to consider a new application for their drug: underachieving schoolchildren.  They received approval from the American Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to market Ritalin to children in 1962 and, almost immediately, it became a best-selling drug (google it I didn't write the footnote pard but I forget where I got it.)
Forgive the flood, but my dear reader, I rode this wave when I noticed you on the page, in life's book. I did not know your name.
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