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farhan Jul 2019
Everything contributes to death.
once as a secret she confessed
she'd like to know whose birth would be her death

i like these kinds of thoughts too
back when i was in school
i was shocked by the phrase i passed by
'never shall those born to crawl, learn to fly'

and ever since i've tried to figure out
such and such
and why those born to fly
crawl so much
elle jaxsun Jul 2019
like the sun
we may seem great
and like the sun
we may know we’re not.
the sun knows that
she is one of the
smallest red giants
in the universe
and she knows to
become great she must
take up more space.
engulf those near
into her flames
to become bigger, brighter.
and we sometimes feel this, too.
that we must take up more space
to become bigger, brighter.
until like the sun we
will become so big that we
burst, becoming small again.
we are like the stars,
especially the great ones.
Aa Harvey Jul 2019
Bee happily ever after


So Bee Bee was ready, the larvae were on the way.
She was worried about looking after new larvae;
But now all female bees could grow up to become mothers in the hive,
If they wanted to bee.
So the brood could bee smaller
And anyway…
Humble wouldn’t want it any other way.


Bee Bee was with the man that she loved
And Humble loved Bee Bee, oh so much!
But he was always worrying too much
And he couldn’t hide his true feelings;
Like when he was nervous, or when he was in love.


The midwife was there;
There was snow in the air.
The bees were all safe and warm indoors,
Waiting for the ones they already adored.
They had waited so long and now the day was finally here.
The nurse closed the door to all the waiting family and friends,
Who had been waiting for oh so long;
Humble had waited his whole life.
The midwife told them all jokingly, “Get out of here…
This may take some time…”


…As the doors once more opened,
Bee Bee lay there with Hope in her hands,
Giving her a hug.
Humble was sat beside her holding Ethan in one hand
And Fen in the other…
Two daughters, one son.
Two sisters, one brother…
Two proud parents…so in love…

One love…

(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey Jul 2019
From the beeginning


A heart beats…
A heart beats again…
A heart beats…and then another.
A heart beats…
And then another
And then another
And then another,
Until the rhythm of the hearts sounds like thunder!
Welcome to life inside the cocoon…


Eyes open.  Eyes close.
Eyes open again…a blink as a brain begins to think…
Something is happening…a heart beats, in tune.


A claw drags itself along a wall and the thread begins to break.
Another claw drags along the same wall, searching for a way to escape.
A hole is pierced in a silk weaved shell.
The air blows in as the senses dwell,
Upon this feeling; inhaling, exhaling…breathing.


A heart beats…a claw is seen waving,
Through a tear in the sealed, protective pod.
The hole grows from fingers and toes, moving faster now.
Somebody is home…the outside noise it calls…a sound so odd.
The casing rolls and legs kick the air…this creature has a soul.
A fist bursts through the surface of the shelter, forming another hole.
A hand reaches out from inside to take a hold.
Another fist; another hand, a larvae is emerging
And soon the outer seal that binds,
All the trapped thoughts of a hive mind,
Are broken free and born with a lasting memory.
Knowledge gained through ancestral experiences;
The creature is still learning…
The cage is broken but never the bond.
The Queen Bee watches all her children,
As they emerge from their growing beds
And she sits there listening to ‘The Greeting Bees’ sing their songs.


The egg rolls once more onto its side.
The embryo is now no longer trapped inside.
It pushes open the wall to create a door to the world…
There appears a furry ball with a spike on its tail.
The story of creation is that nature prevails.


As the furry ball elongates to take its true shape,
A head appears from beneath a body.  The creature is now awake.
As open eyes look for the future, straight ahead,
The story repeats, again and again and again.


Another broken outer layer;
Everywhere the open eyes look, another bee is soon becoming.
Some bees have broken out at the first chance,
Others developed later, but they are all quietly humming.


And at the end, when all the embryos were released,
The remained but a single sleeping bee…


The impatience grew, but still they were made to wait…
A heart was beating, the bee was moving,
But still it did not try to escape…
Some other new bees began to crawl away.
Older bees had gathered to see and they were left truly amazed.
The time had come, the hatchling’s were born,
The hard work was done…
For all, except one.


So still the elders waited…


The bees that were free soon found the honey
And with time they gained their strength and ate.
As the sunlight turned into moonlight,
There remained a solitary bee who did things his own way.
He had decided to remain, saved in storage;
He was still building his courage.
All the courage he could ever need…
All that he could ever bee…


When all the other onlookers had given up waiting,
The Queen Bee sat and watched patiently…
And then at last a head pushed through the case.
It saw a face.
The Queen Bee was waving elegantly.


As the bee rolled out of its bed,
It lowered its head to The Queen Bee of the Bumbles.
She looked into his eyes and said…

“I think I will name you Humble…”


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
This is a story about a bee named Humble B. Bumble.
Poetic T Jun 2019
A cradle of civilization
          where we walked proudly.

Now a tarnished echo,
         of what we stood


                                  tall from.


A light house of our birth,
                      which showed us

that no matter the distance,

the light always illuminated.
           Dimmed, but we know
            where we came from.


Let the lighthouse shine radiant.
showing  us that this cradle isn't
                                                         broken.

Let it shine brightly and show that Africa
is a lighthouse, a birthplace of humanity
         and let it once again cradle us.

For we were all guided from here.
          This is everyone's birth place.
Joshua Penrod Jun 2019
I was born
                    out of ritual

Cultivated
                                           in an abundance

Of sacred experience

"Ritual" -JP
I stand at the foot of reason,
and feel the need to climb--
ev'r so high upon her mount
where the cloud breaks
and her pinnacle understanding peaks.

Only to take a great leap of faith
head first off the mighty cliff,
into an abyss of the unknown
where my greatest fears and desires
lay to waste in the nothingness.

Most days I can't fathom why I climb,
out of bed, into the world, into the light.
yet I find a reason to leave my covers,
my sanctuary of warmth and protection.
I meet you at a little coffee shoppe;

A Wednesday morning cup of coffee
steaming upon my rugged face
sleep deprived and wishing the week's end.
Stuck in the inevitable climb of reason
and unfulfilling success.

I doubt my existence and purpose,
like every other Wednesday.
yet here I am, struggling along
fighting the same tragic fight
with absolutely no reason,

but reason itself good enough
to keep me moving on
to another Wednesday and --
another cup of coffee,
Another reason to climb
procrastinating studying for a political science final exam
neth jones Jun 2019
Mother
new Mother
lies birth sore
and always close to a bathroom

Little Lamb
screams it’s new song raw
reading loss through its tender sacking

Faithless Lover is already next door
receiving well wishes
and plundering attention
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