things-by-bee

[things-by-bee]

starling (6/'25)

starling, you make my heart into murmurs.

by your wings of coal and diamond,

of creeks, peach, and moss,

the hollow dark between the stars

shapes whimsy into summer days

whose still, heavy evenings stretch

when tears fall to your tarnished silver voice.

[things-by-bee]

untitled 6.6.25

at the edge of time and the end of space, you were splayed in the dark shadow of a forest clearing, light splotches like drifting islands on your skin and the leaves and petals coursing like waves around you.

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red-spotted purple admiral. (limenitis arthemis)

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squirrels. 5.8.2025

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homogeneous comforts. (2025)

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folded up airplanes

gliding off into the ink black

to where I hope you're sat

reading chickenscratch palmline

penned blood in the quiet dark.

from where I hope a blue scrap

might come tumbling some day

that I'd unfold the warm words

and know how you are.

maybe my little airplanes

glide ever on and never land,

soaring through the empty air

your world drifted off from

on tectonic plates of time.

maybe I'll never know.

then till forever

I'll write and fold and throw.

[things-by-bee]

all quiet tenderness you and me

held the other and cradled 

in the car seat in the still night

our feelings bunched up thrumming

we spun strands of living dreams 

whispering whimsical frantic love and

glimpsed a life with every moment

entangled by our wordless bond

that silent understanding passed through

constantly locked hungry happy eyes 

heavy heart worry lifted off of me

as instantly easily by your freely accepting

we swallowed our dreams and

they wove into us even as we fell apart

now dethreading fraying veins bleeding

for we dreamt knowing we would so soon say 

goodbye.

[things-by-bee]

sat wetbottomed on a solitary snowpatch

in the calm quiet of iceslick driveway 

now only just glowing with fleeting light

cast warmly around the mountain's edge,

now glinting with pinprick silver points of stars,

now gleaming with graceful blue of rising moon,

pondering, sat there. 

a pondering thing,

pondering change, chance, 

pondering things.

[things-by-bee]

poem 1.1.25

a trickle of laughs is teasing me,

a little flurry of fears

enchanting me.

murders of minute mistakes are

clotting up a red sky,

a blue dawn: their creaking calls

trumpeting the slowly yawning year.

fragility's faces unfold;

a new facet that shimmers

cold, unbearable brilliance:

I was affixed to the notion

of many such mornings.

another little fear

for the spell spun

around me.

[things-by-bee]

an improvisation from the wee hours of this morning.

it is also on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgBcZ-cJrWU

thank you for taking the time to listen, if you do. <3

[things-by-bee]

i need you to speak. i need you

to prattle on endlessly.

i indulge in every detail

of drops you fling from your tongue

that dapple on my mind.

i need you to sit in a tree

with me. and my legs and arms

will be as branches to support you.

we'll quote movies and sing songs, and

we'll laugh. our laughs will be ugly

and they'll make us laugh, too.

we'll think: you and i? (there will be a scoff)

who would have thought?

we'll giggle and you'll take my hands

and we'll dance and dance.

and in this pleasant dream i'll roll over,

and sigh softly in my sleep.

and i'll forget you when i wake.

[things-by-bee]

untitled poem 12.21.24

fallow crimson current,

pressed on by fickle heart,

how I have grown to detest you. 

so often the fruits of your branches

are laden with bitterness:

in the wake of your path,

among the nothing,

I stand astonished.

you dance easily as bacchus,

in moonlit ponds of longing beyond memory,

weaving a cat's cradle of heartstrings.

I want to stamp out the false light

seeping from your flickering flame. 

presently, I have you.

I have caught your bloody thread,

and with my teeth and my nails 

I am unwinding. but-

your gordian knot will soon slip

away between my reaching fingers 

and curl itself back into my chest.

I will forget again, 

and again you will erase me. 

I will die a little death, and

only after will I remember

why I so detest you.

[things-by-bee]

untitled poem 11.16.24

I am alone,

on a page 

in a book,

and hundreds of leaves fold over my head.

my strands are so full

of my strange words

and the strange words of others;

we all double speak,

seldom more than single heard.

the waves of pages,

like beating wings,

are buffeting me.

they break with odd gifts

on my ever oddening shore.

but every fallen page

wilts my wire thin patience

til I babble and chatter.

in a sea of words screaming

PURPOSE,

my chatter sings.

I want to ask:

what PURPOSE? 

you are HERE. 

be HERE with me.

[things-by-bee]

lament (11.6.24)

a lament for today. steel string guitar

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here's a clip of me playing ravel's prelude in A minor (1913). hope you enjoy!

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a thoughtful ms. goldfinch having a moment of rest (10.30.24)

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squirrel activity . . . (10.20.24)