beehive

January 25th, 2012 | 236 Entries

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236 Entries for “beehive”

  1. Wow, bees were attacking and it was like, insane. Seriously, bees, what’s with them?

    Okay, writing like a stoner isn’t working.

    I don’t know, bees are effing weird.

    And the hives are like…buzzing.

  2. click. click. click.
    the egotistical queen bees of the school marched with an air of confidence through the hall as their 9 inch heels continued to taunt the by passers with their annoying clicking, continuing down their path they flicked their styled hair arrogantly twirling a few strands between their carefully polished fingers and cast scorning glances to any girls within a ten foot radius, their eyes continued to seize up their enemies, openly scowling and threatening to sting.
    Wearily I sucked in a long breath and made my way to the hive.

    snickers
  3. the state of utah is also called the beehive state. This word makes me think of honey and fear. probably because bees sting a lot and I hate that feeling. Who doesn’t. Honey comb comes from beehives, not the cereal but like actual honey comb

    Alex Shillingford
  4. I always thought things would turn out different than this. When did living get so complicated? I thought that you wouldn’t have to give up so much to be who you wanted to be.

    Sauce
  5. I see the beehive on the tree.

    Phannarat
  6. she laughed a joyous laugh
    her wrinkled skin
    decorated in brilliant colors
    the yellow-ish gold beehive
    spun carefully about her tiny head
    looked like a crown
    she was the queen of her universe
    how wonderfully
    life must have treated her
    i felt pride and envy
    simultaneously
    what a beautiful soul

  7. The forest is alive. I hear the humming. They are far, but the sound pulls me along the path. Their little wings buzz along, carrying their sweet burdens back and forth. I sit and watch, witnessing one of the little joys of nature.

  8. The beehive was spitting out bees by the hundreds, all chasing after its lone target.

    He ran as fast as he could as the swarm of bees flew as quickly as they could toward him, their stingers alert and ready. They were not pleased. No one was to disturb their cornucopia of work and honey.

    Ah but still, no matter how unintelligent these bees were thought to be, they recognized their target of interest. He frequented as much as he could, their home.

    Silly Pooh.

    elinmacrae
  9. I used to talk to bees when i was younger
    -I know
    it sounds crazy-
    when there was no one else around
    and i was in my backyard
    they would hang around
    and we would peacefully coexist
    I saw the bees
    but never their beehive
    yet they saw me
    and my home

  10. A crackle, then a buzz. First the leaves under our feet, then the harbinger of an afternoon ruined. A walk across the 12 acres, newly mine, unexpectedly tests pain thresholds and the time it takes to jump the barbwire fence, pry open the kitchen door, and unpack the tools to nurse my inflictions.

    Dianne
  11. the world spins slow motion.
    but yet, so fast.
    so on point.
    they fastly work to obey
    their queen.
    hard at work
    for fear of no forgiving.
    i have found the droids of society.
    just counting on counting.
    one by one.

  12. they swarmed to his beehive
    urged onward by a biological time bomb
    simply to expire quickly at the hands of this backward order

    (did you read elie wiesel in school? oh, what about anne frank? i just saw the blockbuster of the boy in the striped pajamas. like bruno, curiosity was arisen and i had the imagination to have faith in the positive potential of my species)

    and that was my undoing.

    there are no words, no expression for the potential that we possess. and, if there is a god, bless us for what we may do with it.

    if only we would inspire some encouraging and enlightening world event equivalent to such a catastrophic portion of our existence.

  13. I remember those red popsicle tasting summer days, spent running through the neighbours sprinklers when they weren’t looking and climbing the tallest tree in old man Delaney’s field just so that we could see the tiny expanse of our town. I remember feeling like a rebel dipping my feet in danger as we threw rocks at the beehive on your shed, or explored the rotten farm on the edge of town. I remember the grass stains on my knees and the mosquito bites all over my legs from spending too much time wading around the pond looking for treasures. I remember the drawn out games of cops and robbers, hide and go seek, and tag. Little did I know, you were it, and I was just waiting to be caught.

  14. A beehive jumped out the the bushes. Well, it wasn’t really a beehive. And well, it didn’t really jump. To be honest, I’m not sure it was a beehive. I think I imagined a beehive because my mother always used to collect honey from the neighbor’s bee farm.

    Kalen Goodluck
  15. I considered the beehive warily. I didn’t know why I’d ever agreed to gather honey with him, because it was so strange and dangerous, especially for a bug magnet like me. But here I was, helping my boyfriend collect honey. I must have gone insane. Because it sure as hell couldn’t be “love” driving this action. No way.

  16. Bees plants animals honey sting pain run Winnie the pooh queen bee yellow round tree grass flowers insects buzz buzzing crawling flying larva babies hornets stingers wasps

    Husky Boyer
  17. The trees were tall and cool, pine needle fragrant, and the way they shaded from the sun was as protective as a legion of Roman guards. She muddled her way through the grove, a teddy bear hand in her hand,and just the faint chatter of birds and the comforting thrum of a beehive as company.

  18. where bee nest, and nuzzle up. They buzz in, and tune out to a place they call home. Full of honey, and other sweet nothings, not them but for us as we have decided

    bex
  19. Hivernating, a swarm of saffron stings all swinging about the cylinder like small octaves f sound reverberating in hums of a lyrical dance. Counting the stamens on flowers stems streaming with dew, praying with tiny black feet and seeking nothing with glassy black obsidian eyes, shining like dead wet rocks

  20. a place where memories are made
    by little flying people also known as bees. they improve everyones life
    nd everythings life

  21. Single-minded proletariat slaves to their stations
    Congregate and perspirate
    For the good of their brood.
    No hopes, no rewards,
    Just tireless toil.

    mar
  22. the begunning of life for many that my live the black and yellow ones also known as bees.

    dorothy
  23. its been so long that i cant remember if i remember you
    maybe we met long ago, and i wrote a witty poem about
    a woman’s hairstyle or a buzzing chase and laughed

  24. The beehive was full of honey. The little girl likes honey, so she went to the beehive for said honey. She got stung. It was worth it.

  25. There rested a small beehive in he upper right corner of the Bailey shack. all the stones we threw could not relinquish the grip it had on the place. The small tongues of flame slid upward towards the ceiling as if they were trying to taste the honey it held.

    Cj
  26. One more thing about you
    that I can never forget:
    we were out on a picnic,
    you brought green apples
    because you knew
    they are my favorite.

  27. hivemind
    high five a lime light
    life gave you lemons
    take each sour puck
    of fucked up opportunity

    ensemble a mutiny
    and overthrow
    a barrier’s queen and conquerer

    monger each meager moment

    Phil
  28. Single-minded proletariat slaves to their stations
    Congregate and perspirate
    For the good of their brood.
    No hopes, no rewards,
    Just tireless toil.

    mar
  29. there it was. golden and glistening in the sunlight. i walked over with my slingshot and stood underneath it. I turned around to see them: my friends egging me on, saying “shoot it, shoot it!’

    miranda
  30. Beat boxers behoove beehive behavior.

  31. buzz buzz

  32. Shaken up like a beehive my body can’t settle. I’m falling and fighting and screaming all at once and yet. And yet, it never gets any better. I can tell them what I want but it isn’t what I have and they’ll wag a finger at me and tell me it’s silly to reach higher than the stars that can’t even manage to keep themselves in the sky.

  33. I am not a fan of bees, much less beehives. I could never be a beekeeper for a living.

    Yeah,I’m a bee-leaver, I couldn’t keep them if I tried…

    Seriously though, I know they’re important and all, but I’ve just had bad luck with them over the years, so I avoid them whenever possible now. The end.

  34. Beehive behavior behooves beat boxers.

  35. I’m following you
    where do you go?
    You run from me
    around this tree
    please come back
    it’s all okay
    just say yes
    and live with me
    in our own beehive

  36. a beehive is made of hexagonal shaed compartments for bees to sleep in, store honey in, and to raise the larvae in. it is a very large thing, it had to fit the queen and her entire colony of bees, plus all of their collected honey and the groving larvae.

    rachel
  37. A beehive. Some refer to it as an infestation of wasteless insects. Others refer to it as home and a direct food source. Think about the bees, people! They are living and breathing beings just like us. We live in houses, they live in beehives. Let them live.

  38. Hair stood as tall as a BP drill.
    Hairspray making her stand so still, haha!

    Tingling sensation on her scalp,
    quite close when a man taps out.

    Although the price of beauty is high,
    never again did I see a bitch who looked so fly.

  39. Beehives are where all the bees live. What are they doing, up in that hive, up in that tree? Are they making honey? Are they making babies? Why, oh why, are beehives filled with honeycombs? Why are they combs? Why are they not hexagons? Wait, aren’t hexagons combs? No, they aren’t combs! I have never seen anyone run a hexagon through their hair! Wait, why is a reference to “anyone” = “their”? Isn’t “their” a possessive reference to a plural noun?

  40. I couldn’t help staring at it. “You’re like Marge Simpson,” I blurted.

    She tilted her head. “That’s always nice to hear. People usually say I look like Katy Perry and Amy Winehouse’s love-child.”

    I shrugged. “That works too, I guess. But your face looks like a poodle’s.”

    She stared at me. I shrugged again.