Monday, May 18, 2009

Notes from the hive

Bees can be tricky.
Some say they have a secret life,
others say they have spirit life
in their beehive.
I just stay out of their damned way.
I love the honey, but hate the sting.
I suppose then that makes me
some kind of coward,
but there it is.
I do not keep pet reptiles
or pet rodents either;
some things just kick up
my fear factor,
it's vitriolic, unreasonable.
So three cheers for Miss M
and the other brave beekeepers
on this planet.
Somebody has to do it,
to be it, just not me.


Glenn said that

I've got nothing to say today, I'm going back to bed.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dats a hellava way to run tings, Duggie, and youse knows it. Den again, dis comment ain't too bad needer. Hope youse got sum nice Z's.

Vinnie

1:40 PM  
Blogger butch said...

Are you sick,
dying, delusional?
Or do you just covet
those retiree naps?
Or are you meditating,
cogitating, composing,
writing some cleverness
on a blank spot
on the white board
in your head?
Do you hear music in your head
like Beethoven, or as you
write down the notes,
or do you create the sounds,
the notes, the music,
and then write it down?
Has yard work become
your nemesis, your ass-kicker,
your anti-muse?

Melva made it home last night,
coming home smoothly
on a sleek Delta jet
in a helluva downpour.
I was finally brave
and faced the night demons
that had plagued me
while driving there,
the airport, the last time,
cataract becoming more opaque,
balls shriveling, yelling
at my wife because
she was there, and no one
else gave a shit
that I almost hit the
jersey barrier because
I couldn't see the goddamned
thing! But like a Fellini
scene, a Bergman dream,
a Spielberg moment, there
I was at night,
in the rain, and I could see
just fine, and now I have
to wait a few more weeks
to full heal up before I
can get some new glasses
which I hardly need, but
seem to miss after six
decades of pairs of them
perched on my probosis.

Sunny days have come
and fled, and yet there
have been no Fidelio stats
to lighten our load,
part braggadosio, and
part systematic and organized,
and always interesting;
especially those hellish
downhill top speeds, Jesus,
you sure could leave some skin
on the pavement if you toppled
at 50mph, enit?

There seems to be no end
to Charles Bukowski's damned
poetry. The deeper I dwell,
the more he gets under
my skin, the more my muse
listens, and whispers shit
in my ear. Can you dig it?
Can you feel me? I have posted
like 125 of his poems
and Christ, they still line up
at my desk, out the door,
down the hall, and out into the
parking lot. Perhaps one day
when I find time, and I catalog
exactly what I have posted, poetic
meanderings, line breaks, my spirit, guts, heart, and ass,
and everybody else's that
has caught my fancy, my eye, my
ear, I will figure out how many
of Sherman's poems, and mine, and yours, but then who the hell
would give a rip if I had a way
of cataloging the entire blog?
I did, for grins, go back to the oldest posting, and began that process, but it was too daunting. Your site was the first one
I grave-robbed, tomb tongued,
and I began my mysterious policy
of taking prose, and redirecting
the lines and words until the
poems began to emerge. I believe
that Palmer Poems have now come
up to like 45 in number. Can you
believe that? Me either, maybe 35 or 60.

When you paste my stuff up front on FFTL, it always gives me a
tingle or two. See, folks, Dougie
cares, he listens, he knows.
How else could he have been
at the blog helm all these
years, ever the wit, the
sardonic prince, the piss-poor
philosopher, the talented composer
willing to share, the Classics
historian, the opera buff, the ex-wrench monkey, the high school buddy, and all like that? Oh yeah, and he is developing into a credible poet too; dig the Twit-ku.

Glenn

8:36 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hallo, Lane!
I share your fear of bees, but, somehow, those at Redwing did not strike fear in me; maybe there are tame bees and aggressive ones. I'm glad those at Redwing aren't aggressive. Maybe those are on the 5th floor @ 2nd & Union???
Tschuess,
Anonomann

12:08 PM  
Blogger Jannie Funster said...

Glenn is a way undiscovered talent. I'm gonna feature some of his stuff on my blog some day in the next few months!

7:10 AM  

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