Poets Are Like the Bees

Our world is full of flowers,

And poets are like the bees,

Pollinating the world with words,

Stirring the social breeze,

Orienting to the sun we fly,

We carry truths near and away,

Returning laden with nuggets of gold,

Gleaned from what people say,

Thus we enrich each teeming city,

As we chase the darkness with light,

And rid ourselves of fears and chains,

With each cleansing flight,

Our dreams are filled with hope,

As we swarm to new ideals,

Working to comfort wounded hearts,

Tirelessly sharing what we feel.




One Step, Two Steps, a Laugh or More

Through my eyes light pours in,

Bringing warmth and energy to my world within,

From the time I’m awake until I sleep,

Light drives out any darkness I keep,

The light splashes into areas where I think,

My mood changes and I’m no longer on the brink,

“Hello!” I shout, but the world does not respond,

Its focus is on issues far beyond,

My enthusiasm does not waver,

“Hello!” I shout again, “Enjoy your day!”

I bounce through morning with light showing me the way,

But my energy wanes with the fading light,

As my psyche prepares for the upcoming night,

Later while the moon glides across the sky,

Only small amounts of light enter my eye,

And the darkness inside spreads,

Arousing my primal desires,

Smoldering embers become raging fires,

In the corners shadows dance,

Feverishly, wantonly, as in a trance,

Until I shake away the shackles I know,

And loose this energy and let it flow,

I’m looking for love and passion’s heat,

This feeling of loneliness I want to defeat,

I fret and hunger for someone to hold,

My fears are gone and I dare to be bold,

Sounds of the night urge me on,

While neon lights pull me along,

In a bar a woman is crying and left all alone,

She tells me her troubles, I tell her my own,

We talk for awhile and find we relate,

She matches me perfectly, this must be fate,

Dancing in dim light with heat seeking heat,

My thoughts grow wilder, listening to the beat,

One step, two steps, a few dances or more,

Then together we waltz out the door,

Darkness surrounds us as we continue to play,

Needs are filled and melt away,

When night runs from the rising sun,

I rub my eyes and think, “What have I done?

I’ve just shared some time and space,

With a stranger I’m not ready to face,”

“Call me,” she says with a smile,

“Of course,” I answer, but I mean after awhile,

“No commitments,” I think as she hugs me once more,

“I’ll call you tonight,” I stated as I start for the door,

“I want to see you again,” I heard my voice say,

My mind is determined but my heart betrays,

Sunlight washes over me and I feel clean,

My thoughts return to last night’s cozy scene,

My heart beats faster when I remember her smile,

Her touch was gentle even while she was wild,

Already my wants are beginning to grow,

“She’s what I need,” and my heart replies, “I know,”

Love and companionship are what I lack,

And my intentions were I’d never be back,

But within minutes I’m pounding on her door,

I’ve never lost my heart so quickly before,

Her eyes are filled with love as she lets me in,

And this is where our new life begins,

She and I together, as two become one,

Dancing and laughing, enjoying the sun,

And through our eyes love pours in,

Bringing warmth and happiness to our world within.



Love For Sale

Certainly my love is for sale,

Although I haven’t set the price,

A small fee will put my love on hold,

A few kisses would suffice,


I’ll offer my love for a price reduced,

Ten percent off would be the teaser,

But my love for one, the lucky one,

Is guaranteed to be a pleaser,


Thirty percent off is a chance I’ll take,

For someone looking for a prize,

My love will flow like a brook,

Hey, check out my great eyes,


Half off, oh, give me a break,

Not even one hug or kiss,

My love will not be on the market long,

If I can’t profit in this,


Your offer is way too low,

It’s time for me to set sail,

I’ve not done well in selling my love,

And I guess I’m doomed to fail,


What? Give my love away,

Without any cost at all?

My heart hasn’t agreed to that,

Not that I recall,


Okay, I’ve come to terms,

We’ll trade our hearts for free,

This will benefit you right now,

And somehow will benefit me,


My efforts to sell my love have failed,

My negotiations have gone awry,

But since I gave my love away,

I can suddenly reach the sky,


No signs are up, no love is for sale,

No need for anyone to inquire,

Because once I gave my love away,

She set my heart on fire,


Nope, no fire sale today,

I’m happy being warm as toast,

I love her mind, her eyes, her smile,

But it’s her heart I love the most.







In the Dead of Winter Springs Hope

The cold winter winds came in gusts,

Each seemingly stronger than the one before,

Eric’s thin coat was pulled as tight as it could be,

But it was no match for the icy fingers that tore,


Yes, simply tore into him the moment he left,

The wind showed no mercy, just like the judge,

Who kicked Eric out of his house, his protection,

Eric could have refused to budge,


It was a financial winter but his funds had been invested,

Eric was prepared but it was worse than he feared,

Investors and scammers slipped away with his funds,

His assets were frozen and then disappeared,


The rich were getting richer, the poor begged for food,

Why should Eric fight anymore for his rights,

While lawyers working for rich men tore into him,

With their icy words they gave him sleepless nights,


Through the winter wonderland he now trudged,

Leaving a trail through the gathering snow,

Wondering how he had lost control of his life,

What would become of him, he did not know,


There was nothing Eric could do in times like these,

When his world was turned upside down,

His job was gone, his family had departed,

Foreclosures and hardships were everywhere in town,


The wind laughed derisively knowing Eric would not last,

Pushing him this way and that until in a heap,

He collapsed, making a thump against a door,

Rousing a widow who was trying to sleep,


She overcame her fright and opened the door,

Discovered a man and she was filled with dread,

She pulled him into the warmth of her home,

Overjoyed when she found he was not dead,


The next few days as his life hung in the balance,

The widow was determined that he would not die,

Through feverish dreams she stayed with him,

While he fought the demons he wanted to defy,


He was sliding down into winter’s cold sleep,

When she lay upon him her full body length,

A warmth he remembered that made life worthwhile,

The warmth of her body brought him strength,


In those moments his life began to change,

From silent depths, from despair to desire,

She brought him through an emotional range,

And within the ice started a raging fire,


She wanted him to love and live again,

And to awaken to a fresh new start,

Winter’s cold wind gave way to spring,

As flowers bloomed so did his heart,


The world around still needed repairs,

But Wall Street was recovering and going strong,

The widow’s house became a refuge,

For others were escaping from a world gone wrong,


They helped all that were driven their way,

Began a new society built on love, not wealth,

Where people found new happiness,

And recovered their mental health,


Even when the world and winter’s cold icy blasts,

Tried to destroy all within their respective scopes,

The power of love was so much stronger still,

Able to conquer all fears and bring new hopes,


The power of one made a difference,

Just one woman taking a chance,

Who opened her door to a stranger,

And opened her heart to change and romance.




Wasted Time

Wasted Time

“Time,” she said, “is a one way door,

My days are numbered,

And I don’t get more,”


“You’ve got it wrong,” he replied,

“Time is more than that,

Time can be wasted,

And like money easily spent,

Second by second to the very last cent,”


She said, “I’ve got to make my time count,

If time slips by and I’ve nothing to show,

There are no second chances in time’s flow,”


“Wait one minute,” he said in return,

“Time comes in segments, like time to cook,

Or I can call a time out, it’s in the book,”


“No,” she said, “time is like watching a parade,

You can see one entry starting and then it’s past,

However long it goes, its time doesn’t last,”


“You haven’t watched much sports,

That is plain to see,

Halftime, overtime, both are important to me,

Time can be managed to slow time down,

Surely there are extra seconds that can be found,”


“Time,” she said, “is past, present, or future,

That’s all there is, of that I’m sure,”


“I think you’re wrong,” he said,

“There’s so much more,

Time is even worth fighting for,

Listen to me while I go through my list,

I’m sure there are times you might have missed,

There’s a time to die, a time to live,

A time to take, a time to give,

Time stands still yet never stops,

Like Times Square when the ball drops,

There’s quality time and just hanging out,

There are time machines holding time in doubt,”


“This discussion has lost its direction and force,

And I think you’re quite crazy, of course,”


He said, “It’s about time you decided to quit,

I’m still thinking there’s more to it,

Daytime, nighttime, time on hold,

Is there anything more you need to be told?”


She was ready to go in because it was late,

Too much time had been used up on this date,


He asked, “Don’t we have time for a kiss or two?”

She answered, “There’s not enough time,

Because I was listening to you,”


While he was talking time didn’t wait,

Time ticked away and sealed his fate.




When the Wall Fell

I cheered when the wall came down,

Thinking darkness and secrecies of mankind,

Would be opened and exposed,

And love and hope I would find,


When people of other countries rebelled,

Speaking up against injustice and tyranny,

With sit-ins and rallies, they refused to leave,

Until voices were heard and they were free,


But militant groups raised their guns,

Determined their type of order must prevail,

Pushing dissidents from roads and parks,

Insisting that peaceful protestors must fail,


The internet buzzed as countries fell one by one,

As people shed their blood for freedom won,

Yet tyranny would not easily back down,

For power and wealth are rarely done,


From various news sources we saw police,

In scenes reminiscent of Kent State,

Pepper spray and bash some heads,

Creating again deep strands of hate,


A politician uttered comments of glee,

“If they just do what they’re told,

They’ll always be free,”


Not understanding the truths that are sought,

Of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,

Eloquently stated by our founding fathers,

Peace cannot be forced under brutal duress,


Their blood stains the peaceful ground,

As people stand against those who oppress,

As waves of protest go from town to town,

Facing those who are trying to suppress,


When any of those selected to protect and serve,

Become the abusers of our society,

Then we become more like the rest of the world,

Fighting our own brand of tyranny,


Our domestic tranquility must not be induced by fear,

Nor should the general welfare fall under the heel,

Of any group with power or status who would dare steer,

Away from peace and make our blessings of liberty less real.



“I Was All She Needed”

“Tell me your story,” I said to him,

“Perhaps I can help your case,”

His voice shook as he began,

“Five years are hard to replace,


I shouldn’t be here, she’s to blame,

It was her fault, you know,

She made me mad and I lost my cool,

Even though I loved her so,


I knew she was my true love,

From the very first moment we met,

She was different than the others,

And not the kind I’d forget,


Her laughter was the kind that haunted,

Her voice found its way into my heart,

She made an impression from the beginning,

I vowed silently that we’d never part,


Her smile was meant for me alone,

She chose me that first day,

Of course she never said that,

I just knew she wanted it that way,


She peeled away my protective layers,

Her thoughts touched my inner core,

She permeated my entire being,

And left me wanting more,


She had no need for others,

There was no one else but me,

She learned to keep me company,

And show her loyalty,


I treated her very special,

With gifts to prove she was mine,

As long as she knew I was in control,

She could earn some free time,


She allowed her friends to disrespect me,

I could see it in their glares,

They tried to get her away from me,

They didn’t know I was aware,


I told her friends to leave my house,

In spite of her tearful pleas,

I didn’t like the way she talked to me,

She had to apologize on hands and knees,


I didn’t mean to beat her,

It was her fault, you know,

But she said she would leave me,

Even though I loved her so,


My tears fell in torrents,

My heart shriveled up in shame,

If she had done what she was told,

There would be no reason for blame,


The world is barren without her,

I can’t get her out of my head,

If she had cared as much about love,

I wouldn’t have shot her dead,


I still have hopes of finding love,

Several women have been writing to me,

I’ll show them what’s best for them,

As soon as I leave the penitentiary,


Each promised to give unconditional love,

Along with their undying loyalty,

That’s all I ever demanded from anyone,

And, there’ll be no one else but me,”


I learned a lot listening to him,

About his life and why he was there,

It wasn’t his fault why he was locked up,

But society just didn’t care.









Mother-Web (a novel)

Mother-Web (part 1)

After the great nuclear war a devastating plague decimated most of mankind.  In the few remaining spheres only nursing mothers and babies protected by diathelic immunity survived.  After years of struggling, the remaining women began communicating with new purpose.  As male babies grew up they were kept from decision-making processes because it was thought that men were naturally aggressive and therefore dangerous.  As a group, women decided hostility and aggression was a disease that needed to be eradicated.

There was a time of peace.  During this time women found ways to network and exchange information.  Out of necessity women recreated society’s infrastructure and developed their government. They were positive they could govern more logically and fairly than men ever had or ever could. Without wars to slow or stop progress, science and technology also grew at a rapid pace.  Women decided they would not take a chance on men ever gaining control and destroying the world again.

There was little tolerance for hostility. Young males who weren’t able to work peacefully were confined.  If their attitudes remained unchanged, they were brought outside the spheres and left to die.  They could live only if they could survive on their own. The few obedient males were kept alive for procreation as long as they were useful. Then they, too, were left outside.  But as the need for certain minerals developed, men became useful again in mining those minerals.

The rules were strict and males were expected to be totally compliant.  As a precaution, absolute obedience had to be learned at an early age.  Microchips were installed in each child’s brain, whether male or female, and each mother had the power and the responsibility of keeping her child “in line”.  At the age of responsibility females were released from mind control but males were always to be dominated.  Laws had been made for the benefit of society and there was no reason to change them.

Men were allowed minimal educations and were assigned their life tasks and jobs.  Any assignments or changes had to be approved by the Council of Elders.  As a group the Elders maintained strict rules and regulations, insuring that men were kept at their designated status.

As the son of a high-ranking mother and because he was obedient, Kenar was allowed to receive a more advanced education.  Although most men were sent to work in mines far under the sphere, Kenar was an exception.  He was being groomed for a different life, a special life that would keep him physically fit yet pampered.  All he had to do was obey and perform on command.

Kenar slid out of bed and started running at a steady rhythmic pace, his statistics displayed on the wall before him.  Drowsily he glanced at the mirrors and slowed to admire his trim, muscular frame.  He thought he was in good shape.

“Kenar, you’re three ounces over the limit,” a voice said harshly.  “You’ll have to increase your distance and time.”  Startled, he pushed two buttons on the treadmill and picked up his pace.  The treadmill monitored his progress and beeped after he had burned enough calories to make up for the three ounces.  He slowed but a voice said, “Fifteen more minutes.  You have to be sure.”

Beads of perspiration were already forming on his forehead but he obeyed the voice.  For fifteen minutes he ran until his mind and body were fully alert and functional.  He checked his pulse.  Satisfied that his workout had been strenuous enough he stepped off the machine and put it away. The extra fifteen minute requirement was satisfied but there was no time to relax. Kenar showered and dressed quickly.  His day was already planned.  He could not be late.

Far above him the sphere’s skin dispersed the morning light.  Only one tenth of the sphere, like a huge shining iceberg, curved out into the dark amber air that dominated the atmosphere.  Yet even with the sun’s brilliance only the half-awake gardeners and herdswomen up on ground level, or the Ruling Mother and the influential Elders with their rooms opened with skylights knew when the sunlight reached the sphere.

Kenar’s room, many levels down into the earth, was almost dark except for the green lights that displayed time, distance and statistics.  Like all rooms and compartments of the great silver sphere, his room was kept at a constant sixty-seven degrees.   Today it seemed warmer.

“That extra fifteen minutes upset my internal thermostat,” he thought.

“Don’t even go there,” came back a reply.  “I know best.”  Again he felt his mother’s familiar thoughts piercing his brain.   “Hurry up, sweetheart.  It’s time to start a new week.  My smart planner set your digital chef.  It shouldn’t be long before your soybean cakes and hot barley drink are ready.  Hurry, hurry!  You have to save enough time for your teeth to be brushed properly.  Remember, the Express won’t wait.”

“Leave me alone, Mother. Can’t you let me do things by myself?  I have to start managing my own life.”

“But son, it’s been three days since I’ve communicated with you.  I worry about you.  Are you taking care of yourself properly the way I taught you?  Did you take your vitamins and thymus injections?   You know you have to keep your immunizations up.  I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Go away, Mother.  I’m thirty-four years old.  I have a responsible job with the communications center.  I’m old enough to be on my own.”

“But Kenny, what if the Elders heard you say that?  You know the rules.  Children, especially males, cannot do without their mothers until they’re at least fifty.  Even then responsible mothers must still provide a little guidance.”

“Ok, ok!  You’re right! I do know the rules.  But those injections…I won’t need them until I‘m at least sixty.  I’m not beginning to show any deterioration yet.  You know that.”

“You can never be too sure, son.  Remember that girl four levels down who got a cold a few years ago?  You saw how she started to age.  There’s no reason for you to get wrinkles under your eyes or a few gray hairs.  You won’t be allowed to live as long as women do, but if you keep up those thymus shots you might at least reach one hundred and fifty.  I’m only trying to help you for your own good.”

“Listen to your mother’s words of wisdom.”  On every screen and on the sides of walls everywhere he went, the message was always the same.  There was no point in arguing with Mother.  It was a losing battle.  With Mother on the same brain wave he couldn’t avoid her.   Besides, it had always been that way.

Kenar couldn’t remember when the chip, a micro-miniaturized computer, had been inserted into his head.  He was used to Mother zooming in and out of his thoughts at random times.  Sometimes she had messages to give him and at other times she only wanted to dominate.

Just once he wanted to argue with her and win.  That aspect didn’t seem possible in the foreseeable future.  If he ever just once got the upper hand it was unlikely she would be a good loser.

Kenar didn’t really know if she would turn him in for thinking heretical thoughts.  There were stories of mothers who had turned their children over to the authorities. Mother would do whatever was best for society.  The consequences of disobedience were terrible.   He could be sent to the mines.  Some males who dared question authority were sent there to work for the rest of their lives.  Mother probably wouldn’t have him sent there.  But the infraction would not be ignored.  Something would happen and the other punishments were even more frightening.

It was hard enough to listen to Mother espouse the rules of society.  It was even worse to be locked up and………..Kenar froze as he thought of the confines.  Mother had brought him there once after one of his outbursts.

He remembered seeing the inmates behind the walls of their transparent cubicles writhing in torment.  He didn’t have to be told they were being tortured within their heads.

Control by Mother was bad enough but the thought of multi-channel implants made him shiver.  With several women in charge of his thoughts it would be pure hell.  There was no way to please all of them.  They would harass him constantly.

Yet Kenar knew the ultimate punishment could be even worse.  If the Elders became unhappy with his thoughts, his implant would be simply overloaded on the carrier frequency and his mind would be gradually or quickly destroyed, depending on the whims of those in charge.  He could imagine his brain exploding under all the pressure.

The punishments were real.  He had seen too many men staring blankly at walls, their minds gone, standing and waiting for something to happen.  He would follow the rules because he could not risk pushing Mother too far.

Bills, Bills, Bills

An example of street markets accepting credit ...
Image via Wikipedia

He was
sitting at the bar,

His eyes
were full of tears,

He claimed he was a bit tipsy,

He’d had one
too many beers,


“Son, let me tell you a story,

About what
happened to me,

Sometimes life
just isn’t fun,

And I’ll bet
you’ll agree,


If you’ll buy me one more drink,

I’ll tell my
tale of woe,

I’ll tell
the truth, the awful truth,

Then I’ll
have to go,


A year ago I
was much like you,

I was
convinced I had it all,

I had a job
and was very smug,

That was
before my great fall,”


“I don’t
love you now,

That you’re
down and broke,”

I can still
hear her voice ringing,

With the
harsh words she spoke,


Then she
piled bills, bills, bills,

Upon the

“You just don’t
earn enough money,

These bills
just have to stop,”


“Would she
still be hanging around,

To tell me I’m
worse than a louse,

If I told
her I was just laid off,

And soon I
would lose the house,


Because of
bills, bills, bills,

I needed a
brand new start,

Every penny
was simply gone,

And my life
was falling apart,


There was no
way to reassure her,

Without having
to continually lie,

No cash was
in my bank account,

My investments
had gone awry,


If I had
diamonds and lots of gold,

Reported to
be a girl’s best friend,

I’d spend
freely to buy love,

And keep up
with the prevailing trend,


Because I have
bills, bills, bills, bills,

There’s no
merriment in the house today,

My wife has
up and left me,

But the
debts are here to stay,


cards, checkbook, transactions online,

commercials all is done with a smile,

I know I can’t
take money with me,

But I’d like
to have some for awhile,


And bills,
bills, bills, and more bills,

Are raining
from the sky,

How can I
pay if I’ve nothing to give,

I’m worried
but I can’t even cry,


Be generous,
help the poor,

Everywhere I
turn it’s the same,

People I’ve
never met before,

Suddenly know
my name,


But bills,
bills, bills, bills,

I wish
someone really understood,

These bills
are driving me crazy,

I’d shred
them if I could,


A bundle of
bills are waiting,

coiled and ready to strike,

A cardboard
box will be my new home,

My next car
will be a bike,


And now
there are bills, bills, bills,

The postman
brings me more,

The creditors
are getting anxious,

beating on my door,


No job, ill
health, lots of stress,

Problems greet
me every day,

avoid me like the plague,

Only the
bills are here to stay,


Late bills,
silver bills, big bills,

No way can I

rates are raised,

Now I can’t
pay my tax,


Easy money
and easy street,

Seemed like
a life for me,

But bills,
bills, bills, bills,

Keep me in


He took a swig
and stumbled out,

Into the
dark of night,

I watched
him go as long as I could,

Until he was
out of sight,


I often think
of what he said,

About being
in agony,

As the bills
come in each month,

I wonder if
it could happen to me.

Stories, Childhood Dreams and Role Models

Animated Gif of a Cicada (Tibicen sp.) Molting...
Image via Wikipedia

The cicadas
were particularly noisy in the evenings,

the cricket songs and croaks of frogs,

I would listen carefully, trying to locate the sounds,

But the
sounds were distorted by trees or logs,


As evening
fell scissortails and bats swooped low,

Vying for
the hordes of insects that filled the air,

And close
nearby an owl’s who-o-o joined in,

Sending shivers
up my spine and giving me a scare,


“Tell me a scary
story, Dad,” I would plead,

As the stars
commenced popping out of the blue-black sky,

Dad would
begin and my brothers and sisters would gather,

Jostling for position, not willing to let one word slip by,


Once,” he
began, “I was walking past a graveyard,

And I heard
two deep voices in the dead of night,”

“You take
one and I’ll take one,” Dad said dramatically,

“This was
serious business so I kept just out of sight,”


“You take one and I’ll take one,” the counting began again,

Impatient, I
interrupted with questions, I wanted a clue,

“What was
being sorted?” I asked. “Was it coins, dollars,

Or was it
bodies?  And the counting was done by


“Too many
questions,” Dad replied, “and it’s bedtime,

Tomorrow I’ll
tell you some more of the story,”

Dad would
not divulge what would happen next,

All I could
do was wait and hope it was gory,


Yet in my
dreams the story continued on,

The characters
and setting changed a time or two,

As I
hammered out a version that I liked,

It was the
wee hours before my version was through,


It became a spirited
contest between Lucifer and God,

“You take one
and I’ll take one,” had a deeper meaning than gold,

I became an
auctioneer controlling the bidding,

And when a
soul was purchased I would call out “Sold!”


My night was
troubled and I had a fitful sleep,

I awoke sweaty, groggy and tired to the bone,

The day
passed slowly as I awaited Dad’s story,

Biding my
time for a chance to compare my own.


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