silly yellow thing
twists and turns on the breeze
pollinates, rejuvinates,
old woman’s face cake
it makes its black stripes jet
pulsing through the wind’s blood
black blur
buzz buzz buzz
busier than a business woman at 230 pm.
how fast can you fly?
faster than me at lunch time?
farther than heaven to earth?
just keep my honey coming, darling.
“Wheep! Wheep!” The sirens sounded in the bay. “Sir, are you ready for departure? The drone is prepped and primed.” The foredeck ensign saluted. “Aye Aye, Ensign. Locked and loaded.” Maretti smiled as his eyes looked everywhere at once. “Maretti, niner four oh one,” he called into his headset. “Preparing for departure and temporary deattachment from the hive.” “You’re cleared for take-off. Coast is clear. Have a good run,” the air traffic controller signaled back. “Hey, Maretti?” he called to the bee. “May the pollen be with you.”
They call me “bee-yatch” because I sting people that get too close. It’s pretty good, for a nickname. But they’re all bee-yatches too, because their words sting just as much.
Bee. Its funny that this is the word today. Bee has always been my nickname, and I feel like its appropriate on my 18th birthday to be reminded of something from when I was very small. It reminds me of how lucky I was to have a magical childhood, but it also reminds me how much I have changed and grown, and the person I have become.
once again. bee…. hmm… reminds me of a summer afternoon. a day when worry is nonexistent. yes, i like the sound of that. tic tok tic tok. not much longer until summer
the fuzzy puff hung heavily in the floral perfumed air. it weaved and bobbed from here to there until it found the perfect flower to dive deep within. It dove. Petals pressed the furry thorax from all sides as the bee reached deep within for that sweet nectar to devour.
It was bound to happen. I was dreading this day. I knew I was prepared, but the apprehension was there. I heard my name. I stood up. The word was prestidigitation. Is that a word? I hate spelling bees.
Me: “All I can do is pour some tea for two and speak my point of view but it’s not…”
Bee: Bzzzzzz.
Me: “But it’s not…”
Bee: Bzzzzzz!!!
Me: I bet if the little Bee girl were here, she’d know the last words to that line. At this point, I think she’d make a better bee than you. Now, now! There’s no need to brandish that stinger!
a bumble buzzes around her head. as she walks, isolated. she’s a nonconformist. not just for the sake of nonconformity, but to find herself without the pressures of society. she is able to be alone with herself and her own thoughts.
Bee! this is one of my favourite words in the whole world! I call out BEE to my little dog Lily! she is a little sweetheart so I call her baby which has been shorten to BEE, or little bee! I must say the sight of this word makes me happy!
buzzing around my face. dangerous little thing. b-line. first letter of my sisters name who has a child that is squishy. bee-leave beelong beeheaded john the baptist goliath mary antoinette and other
The bee buzzed by ear I didnt care the waves lapped at my toes i felt like i was slowly sinking into sandy oblivion the sky looked like watermelon and my eyes started to droop
I am yellow and black. For years I have seen to it that your plants and flowers have been pollenated, but now I am dying. Like the starts you can not see I fade away. And soon it will all fade. Into yellow and black. Into yellow and black
flying, buzzing, stinging, mean, scared, awful, run! i dont like bees i like honey but bees and insects im terrified of. ive been stung 5 times at once because of a stupid bees nest underneath my deck. i hate bees. :( they arent nice.
A bee has a honeycomb for a home. There is always a queen bee. She protects all of the other bees. Bees normally sting and then die once their stinger falls out. Bumble bees seem nice and furry at first, but they sting like hell. I have never been stung by a bee before. Thank goodness.
a bumble bee stung me once. I was angry. It hurt. Then I caught the bee beneath a ice cream bucket in the yard. When I came back a few hours later the bee was gone. I’m not sure where it went. Probably back to the garden where all of the delicious flowers are. Bees are a pretty black and yellow.
the bumble bee swarmed around the flower wondering when it was time for nectar. was it nectar radiating from the flower? The bumble bee swarmed around the chimney considering entering the frozen home. no air. ?
“Destroyer of worlds, monument to the phallus, creator of ideas perpendicular to mine.” The thoughts wandered through her mind like a hive of bees trying to bring a suitable nectar to the queen. Wincing, each tangent stings her physically.
buzz buzz
you’re annoying, she says. like a bee.
really? the other girl asks.
yeah. you remind me of my dad sometimes. annoying and touchy.
oh, well you love your dad though, right?
no.
I love the yellow punch bug with the license plate “bizybee”… I wonder if it’s her nickname, because she’s always on the go, or if it is meant to describe her cute car, or both…?
The bee glided with a soft buzz over the clover. A human he noticed was watching him. Humans are strange – they think no other things have thoughts or feelings, but how little he knows. This is my chance to be a star of his camera so I sit, tuck my wings and pose for a photo.
A bee by any other name would sting just the same. Just because a bee seems to happily jump from flower to flower, does not mean that it is not thinking of stinging you when you least expect it. Remember, always anticipate that which you do not expect. Then it becomes expected.
Well bees are just animals or I guess insects…they are very annoying creatures
They love to sting me on a summers day and sometimes I’m found stepping on them. That sucks. A lot. I really don’t mind flies…flies are actually annoying too I take that back. Insects in general are annoying, but they serve their purpose i
buzzing, annoying, stinging, biting. It is, drifting, quickly. A run, a hope a moment. Rhyme bee. Buzzz
zzzzzz
zzzz
A garden dance, among the flowers, fighting the breeze, bringing honey home.
Honey. Honey is good. I remember some cartoon from my youth of a bear like licking a honeycomb, beehive thing. I don’t remember what that was. I don’t think it was Winnie The Pooh, the memory’s animation is much different.
I like to pretend to hate you, I buzz around your side annoying you with crude cat-calls. And when I feel like you’re getting too close I leave angry red marks as revenge. I can’t help it, your sweet perfume would drive any person mad, so please know that it’s no longer out of will when I make a bee-line towards you every morning.
Be careful what you want to say and what you do. Dont pretend we forgot the places we didnt. If you love something, be with it. Or be without it. Because when shit hits the fan, it may no longer be at all.
Ugh bees. I really do not like them at all. I know, scientifically, that they have a good purpose. Pollination and all that. But I really do just always associate them with wasps. And no one likes a wasp. Their jerky actions, that terrible buzzing sound that they make. There’s just nothing that SEEMS good about bees at first glance, but one has to remember they serve a purpose.
i bumble bee. they are busy. they work hard. they make sweet honey. they sting. they are yellow and black. i have never been stung by a bee. They scare me. They love flowers. mary kay loved bee’s
A tiny bee, floating above the flower. Desiring only to taste the sweet necture withing the delecate flower. Knowing only work, pain, life, and death. Knowing not of love, hate, peace, or war. Oh how nice it would be, to be that bee.
the bee was in my salad. I flung it out with my fork. Its wings were wet with the Italian dressing I like to use. Its wings never made the tell tail buzzing.
My mother used to work at a hive. She would come home with her hands swollen from beestings because her gloves were filled with holes and they wouldn’t buy new ones, but she laughed it off and said it toughened the skin. We got dozens of pots of free honey, fresh off the comb with plugs of wax all through that would stick between our teeth but at least it was natural, she said.
I once was a bee. Black and yellow. I flew up high a stung a tall fellow. I dipped down into a clover. And stung the nose of a dog named Rover. I took my nectar back to the tree. And made some honey for only me!!
silly yellow thing
twists and turns on the breeze
pollinates, rejuvinates,
old woman’s face cake
it makes its black stripes jet
pulsing through the wind’s blood
black blur
buzz buzz buzz
busier than a business woman at 230 pm.
how fast can you fly?
faster than me at lunch time?
farther than heaven to earth?
just keep my honey coming, darling.
“Wheep! Wheep!” The sirens sounded in the bay. “Sir, are you ready for departure? The drone is prepped and primed.” The foredeck ensign saluted. “Aye Aye, Ensign. Locked and loaded.” Maretti smiled as his eyes looked everywhere at once. “Maretti, niner four oh one,” he called into his headset. “Preparing for departure and temporary deattachment from the hive.” “You’re cleared for take-off. Coast is clear. Have a good run,” the air traffic controller signaled back. “Hey, Maretti?” he called to the bee. “May the pollen be with you.”
Yellow and buzzing. It stings deep and sears the skin with the burn of it’s warning.
They call me “bee-yatch” because I sting people that get too close. It’s pretty good, for a nickname. But they’re all bee-yatches too, because their words sting just as much.
Bee. Its funny that this is the word today. Bee has always been my nickname, and I feel like its appropriate on my 18th birthday to be reminded of something from when I was very small. It reminds me of how lucky I was to have a magical childhood, but it also reminds me how much I have changed and grown, and the person I have become.
Thank you Mr. Bee.
Without you, there would be no life.
You will never know your importance to our life.
You are that which makes us be.
once again. bee…. hmm… reminds me of a summer afternoon. a day when worry is nonexistent. yes, i like the sound of that. tic tok tic tok. not much longer until summer
the fuzzy puff hung heavily in the floral perfumed air. it weaved and bobbed from here to there until it found the perfect flower to dive deep within. It dove. Petals pressed the furry thorax from all sides as the bee reached deep within for that sweet nectar to devour.
It was bound to happen. I was dreading this day. I knew I was prepared, but the apprehension was there. I heard my name. I stood up. The word was prestidigitation. Is that a word? I hate spelling bees.
Me: “All I can do is pour some tea for two and speak my point of view but it’s not…”
Bee: Bzzzzzz.
Me: “But it’s not…”
Bee: Bzzzzzz!!!
Me: I bet if the little Bee girl were here, she’d know the last words to that line. At this point, I think she’d make a better bee than you. Now, now! There’s no need to brandish that stinger!
a bumble buzzes around her head. as she walks, isolated. she’s a nonconformist. not just for the sake of nonconformity, but to find herself without the pressures of society. she is able to be alone with herself and her own thoughts.
Bee! this is one of my favourite words in the whole world! I call out BEE to my little dog Lily! she is a little sweetheart so I call her baby which has been shorten to BEE, or little bee! I must say the sight of this word makes me happy!
Little bee watering can in a toddler’s hand and I’m picking up a baby bumblebee.
buzzing around my face. dangerous little thing. b-line. first letter of my sisters name who has a child that is squishy. bee-leave beelong beeheaded john the baptist goliath mary antoinette and other
The bee buzzed by ear I didnt care the waves lapped at my toes i felt like i was slowly sinking into sandy oblivion the sky looked like watermelon and my eyes started to droop
I am yellow and black. For years I have seen to it that your plants and flowers have been pollenated, but now I am dying. Like the starts you can not see I fade away. And soon it will all fade. Into yellow and black. Into yellow and black
flying, buzzing, stinging, mean, scared, awful, run! i dont like bees i like honey but bees and insects im terrified of. ive been stung 5 times at once because of a stupid bees nest underneath my deck. i hate bees. :( they arent nice.
A bee has a honeycomb for a home. There is always a queen bee. She protects all of the other bees. Bees normally sting and then die once their stinger falls out. Bumble bees seem nice and furry at first, but they sting like hell. I have never been stung by a bee before. Thank goodness.
a bumble bee stung me once. I was angry. It hurt. Then I caught the bee beneath a ice cream bucket in the yard. When I came back a few hours later the bee was gone. I’m not sure where it went. Probably back to the garden where all of the delicious flowers are. Bees are a pretty black and yellow.
the bumble bee swarmed around the flower wondering when it was time for nectar. was it nectar radiating from the flower? The bumble bee swarmed around the chimney considering entering the frozen home. no air. ?
“Destroyer of worlds, monument to the phallus, creator of ideas perpendicular to mine.” The thoughts wandered through her mind like a hive of bees trying to bring a suitable nectar to the queen. Wincing, each tangent stings her physically.
buzz buzz
you’re annoying, she says. like a bee.
really? the other girl asks.
yeah. you remind me of my dad sometimes. annoying and touchy.
oh, well you love your dad though, right?
no.
The harsh humming stung against my eardrums. Adding pressure along with the weight of a heated summer day.
I once saw a bee.
How pretty was he.
He flew and blew past me.
Full of glee.
This is my life.
I love the yellow punch bug with the license plate “bizybee”… I wonder if it’s her nickname, because she’s always on the go, or if it is meant to describe her cute car, or both…?
The bee glided with a soft buzz over the clover. A human he noticed was watching him. Humans are strange – they think no other things have thoughts or feelings, but how little he knows. This is my chance to be a star of his camera so I sit, tuck my wings and pose for a photo.
A bee by any other name would sting just the same. Just because a bee seems to happily jump from flower to flower, does not mean that it is not thinking of stinging you when you least expect it. Remember, always anticipate that which you do not expect. Then it becomes expected.
Well bees are just animals or I guess insects…they are very annoying creatures
They love to sting me on a summers day and sometimes I’m found stepping on them. That sucks. A lot. I really don’t mind flies…flies are actually annoying too I take that back. Insects in general are annoying, but they serve their purpose i
Bee buzz, flying flitting, sipping supping, on nectar sweet.
Humming your song, and singing to your queen.
buzzing, annoying, stinging, biting. It is, drifting, quickly. A run, a hope a moment. Rhyme bee. Buzzz
zzzzzz
zzzz
A garden dance, among the flowers, fighting the breeze, bringing honey home.
Honey. Honey is good. I remember some cartoon from my youth of a bear like licking a honeycomb, beehive thing. I don’t remember what that was. I don’t think it was Winnie The Pooh, the memory’s animation is much different.
I like to pretend to hate you, I buzz around your side annoying you with crude cat-calls. And when I feel like you’re getting too close I leave angry red marks as revenge. I can’t help it, your sweet perfume would drive any person mad, so please know that it’s no longer out of will when I make a bee-line towards you every morning.
Be careful what you want to say and what you do. Dont pretend we forgot the places we didnt. If you love something, be with it. Or be without it. Because when shit hits the fan, it may no longer be at all.
Ugh bees. I really do not like them at all. I know, scientifically, that they have a good purpose. Pollination and all that. But I really do just always associate them with wasps. And no one likes a wasp. Their jerky actions, that terrible buzzing sound that they make. There’s just nothing that SEEMS good about bees at first glance, but one has to remember they serve a purpose.
i bumble bee. they are busy. they work hard. they make sweet honey. they sting. they are yellow and black. i have never been stung by a bee. They scare me. They love flowers. mary kay loved bee’s
A tiny bee, floating above the flower. Desiring only to taste the sweet necture withing the delecate flower. Knowing only work, pain, life, and death. Knowing not of love, hate, peace, or war. Oh how nice it would be, to be that bee.
the bee was in my salad. I flung it out with my fork. Its wings were wet with the Italian dressing I like to use. Its wings never made the tell tail buzzing.
I don’t see much of them anymore.
My mother used to work at a hive. She would come home with her hands swollen from beestings because her gloves were filled with holes and they wouldn’t buy new ones, but she laughed it off and said it toughened the skin. We got dozens of pots of free honey, fresh off the comb with plugs of wax all through that would stick between our teeth but at least it was natural, she said.
But I don’t see many bees in the city.
I once was a bee. Black and yellow. I flew up high a stung a tall fellow. I dipped down into a clover. And stung the nose of a dog named Rover. I took my nectar back to the tree. And made some honey for only me!!