twenty students in
perfect little rows
worker bees in training

a crooked child
shakes his hand
a silent celebration

he knows the answer

it is not one
of math or science

he cannot tell you
who won the war
but he can tell you
what makes the world
beautiful

he can tell you
that knowledge is
about more than
just facts

that what’s interesting
isn’t always what’s
important

behind those
failing grades and
messy locker
is a child who longs
to learn
a child who is
smart
a child who
isn’t meant to be
just another
worker bee

some children
are meant for more
then the target
of a flower

At 1:01, break

Passed a bit ago, late day

Per the usual

A beautiful red broke a smile
on a shame face
O, it turns out that my beloved
long gone
and I failed to face

A blue sad sky
to the poet who is gloomy in front of the poem
stringing words
downing the imagination
the numb

Apparently, the flower is the beloved
O I forget how many times I searched
All in my yard
Grow in a heart!
Grow in a heart!
Bloom on a heart
Bloom on a poem!

O this is a poem for her
And the buzzing bee sing a song to her
And also sing a song to me

I took a sip from your cup
a drop of your signature potion.
Oh, you know what?
Just one is enough.
Leave a drop for the bees.
Let the honeycomb build and melt
in this sea of sweet magic!
The rest is yours as you please.

Bee and flower

They love each other...

honey abducted from the hive;

Bloomed flowers beheaded...

They love each other;

Both departed without farewell...

Love exists in sweetness and fragrance;

Used by us, their love is our bait.

In a moment of serendipitous sweetness
You grimace bitterly,
you do not like walking down paths
covered in roses.
You would rather wallow alone,
Coughing up reasons
to be angry at this shallow world,

But it follows you buzzing
even when you’ve muted your colours.