Honey, Which is Not Honey

Sweet solution, heavy ingestion nourished
Supersaturated, concocted, too
Sweet signals, thick impressions sustained
Attractive and untamed, even witty

Fructose, glucose, enzymes, even the oils
Regurgitated, noshed to the larvae
Affection, warmth, eagerness, and passion
Imbibed to the senses, unknowingly

Honey, which is not honey, so it seems,
Honey like substance from flowers by ants
Honey is not honey, apparently
Sweet and intoxicating, irrational

Honey, from honeydew of plants, we see
A rain of food, transported by the wind
Honey, they abound, far and wide, we see
Sweet secretions and elaborated

Honey, true honey, from the nectar, aged
Subsists in winter then stored in time
Honey, from love divine, it is seasoned
Never fleeting, strong and fulfilling

D

(a poem for a friend named D)

Strange innuendos from you, a stranger
Truth and lies, diverse and crisp, are they true?
Novel ideas from a novelty-
Uncertainties cling, still uncertain.

Painful lexis, you throw and you love pain!
Bizarre memoirs, you love bizarrerie
Morbid visions, loving morbidity
Zombifying the already zombies?

Callous sounds to enhance callosity
Cold response, D, are you cold-blooded?
Pretensions, I perceive, and I pretend
Understanding to be understood.

Friendship I bid, at all times, to a friend
Worth I realize, then is it worthy?
Cautions, I try to be cautionary
Careful with the pain, D, because I care.

Life

(a poem by Daryl)

Life started with the very first cry
Of a baby destined for dreams to fly
The baby grew and started talking
Then came the learning of walking
And then all other things

The baby grew into a sweet little boy
And he played with his many toys
As he came to the age for learning
The new legacy of life is coming
And his dreams are beginning

When he grew to his teens, the boy protested
That he no longer needs to be protected
His parents were angry and raging
And told him that they will be scolding
For he has done a very bad thing

The boy grew into an intellectual man
And away from his parents he ran
And soon he met the girl of his dreams
She was more than what she seems
And their love filled to the rim

Soon they were married
In a church with a priest so candid
And moved to a beautiful bungalow
Where they took their love so slow
And their love reached high and low

Soon they had children, a set of twins
And taught them not to sin
Time passes so quickly, a year passes by tenths
And their twins had spouses and children
So life soon takes its end

They were happy yet weakly
And the wife passed away so sickly
Soon his time was coming
And he heard the angels singing
That life always has its ending

Are You Hurting?

I hear the distant cry of woes,
And the deepest sigh of anguish
Oh, one that carries solitude
that grips my heart, wringing its peace
I feel I want to cry – no, no,
I feel I want to fly – yes! yes! –
Towards the screaming whimper
Eventually became a moan,
a longing to cling, to stay…
‘Are you hurting, my beloved friend?’
My voice pealed, went over and over
Only a shadow of life afloat
Beloved seemed to ignore my voice
I feel I want to shout, let you hear
My deepest longing, my yearning for
I want to hold your hand without end
Let you know that I am here always
To wipe away the hurt, the tears…

Remembering…

People come and go…

exchanging smiles and later strives,

sharing experiences and probing lives,

comparing and nurturing,

loving and abhorring.

 

 

People differ … what the heck!

Contrasting in beliefs,

displaying strange dispositions,

disputing over petty matters,

but all alike as created.

 

 

People come and go…

to be cherished, it depends…

to be hated, one never knows…

to be admired/loved, if it’s apt…

to be categorically REMEMBERED.

 

 

You will go and that would grieve my heart,

Taking off to your dreams and hopes,

Stepping towards success

But please, I am here…

REMEMBERING…

do not FORGET.