Finding flowers with Honey bees

[tectak]

Nine 9.45 am 9th april 12




Best keep a low profile; Be incandescent under the sun
I feel you pray the way we speak of them too far distant
all the way to the end of time we own customs of obeisant.
I feel you pray of finding lexis , there is a texture in the air
of collective; of sweet cast in runes . Ever even
between the stars we are joined at the hip, the wing, the hub
the eye is always last to find consciousness. There is a bug
a million miles away tuning in to our divinity, expressing doubt
that we might be worthy, of you, of them. If we pray
to everything, probe all sensibilities , ours, theirs , yours,
will that be enough to keep joined essences in our rented lives .

There is merit in forgiveness , this is understood
But most keep their outer strands bound too tight
Where not even a honey Bees sting can penetrate!
Their nerve endings too shrunk , cataracts fully formed
destroying pupils, the last focal points and last witness
to events. Their teacher too immature to grasp
the smallest bug might for ever, own all wisdom.




The wild meadow made for obsessive, night after night the lady bug
flew in the window and walked over the pillow in ever smaller concentric circles .
I felt drawn to walk behind her, mentally we linked in the way of nature, of true life.
Of living a dream of a dream within a dream while we too were wide awake.
and we meandered a meadow, her domain among flowers the height of trees.
I Read poppy thoughts, grasses, existence in every living flower, every sound
of nature at her finest.
It was snowing pollens incandescent and alive .
I felt impregnated again, the same instant a flower knows that she has been
saturated body and soul with life while her mate extends,
Oh, flowers, she owns all that can’t be taken, can never be understood
unless you too have joined completely with a new life.

Natures musts, wins

I had high hopes for you. I still have......I am of course talking of your poetry. This floribund style is appealing to many but it is like sniffing old pot pourri. I can tell it was once fresh but now there seems to be a scent of decay about it. I think I know why.
Writing good words is an indication of the thinking of good thoughts. You write good words. If I can bring in another analogy, the ingredients are good but the dish seems stale. It needs spicing up......and what is this spice? It is punctuation. The right amount in the right places of the right type. Rise up all ye who deny my right!
Here we go. We anti-doters should stick together! What is wrong with precision punctuation? In this piece things are made more irritating because of inconsistencies. You CAN do it right but then decide not to. PIM. (Sick of writing"perhaps it's me".
OK I am alright again. There is more to like than not and so here comes the sugar.
I really liked the incandescent pollen line.
I did not like the dodgy sentence structure.
Best,
Tectak