Bumblebee: Poems for Dark Times
Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil
Poetry Drafts
Arsenic and Myrrh
I season my arsenic, let the
Nose carry the burden of
Judge, jury and executioner.I sniff you, the whiff of rage
Turns me. Turns me. Turns
Me on and with a rising pulse
I show you…. my
Back.I season my arsenic, without
Tears and myrrh I carry on.
Chloroform and the best ofIntents
Keeps me
Going.
of Masters and Conjurings
I feel uneasy,
Around you I no longer trust,
The last of time is
Ours, yet here I stand, naked and
Sober.Crying the last of us,
You the wolf,
I …
We; … and moon above.The howling, and the shivering of
Stars, I hurt without bleeding as you
Moan, as you cry, as you find the
Sought after: the will of Master& Conjuring
I wear the face of a dead man
I wear the face of a dead man.
Between the eyes a brow, a
Frown and therein lies the crux of the
Matter, the moments spent
Searching for the truth behind
The scaffolding; the lies, the man
Scattered between the nuts and
Bolts, the fallen hero no longer
Worshipped.I wear the face of a dead man,
Cawing.
Napalm Nausea
I hide behind my veil of
Insanity, watching you
Embrace the cold. The
Lonely path sought, a
Flower crushed by soles
Uncovered and flagons
Littering the barren
Streets. Longing for
The other man, the warm
Embrace of a stainless steel
Cutting. You light the torch
Hovering and my napalm
Nausea finds another
Birth. Like a moth and a fire
Colliding, I rub and you
Reach your point of
Desire. Here be dragons,
Here be truthsUntold.
The sorry state of fires burning
Oh, the hurt of the words spoken
When silence would suffice.The burden of a broken heart finds
No solace in the shadows of the
Talk of town.
The pleasantries shared, the dancing
Confession, I beg of you to never mention
Such stewardship unless in warrant.The sorry state of fires burning, the
Deception between the ladies' eyes.
No warranties of childhood laughter
From the expectancy of passing
Love.I hear but anguish as feet touch grass,
A lady’s decorum could, if asked,
Become and be coming, as fair as
Any nymph’s. Oh the bossom of such
Maid would delight the gentry, and the
State of mind of selfless agents.
Towels of Love
You do not need to ask,
I will pour you a bath; add
Scented flowers and
Golden myrrh if asked.Soak as though the skin
Would crumble, let the
Thought of a child come
If wanted.The towers of Avalon, the
Towels of love will find
You, and dry you as only
I could, as only a begger
Would.Then dress as a child of time,
As the better half of a whole,
As the Lady of Time itself,
Courting and expectingAll.
shades of grey
We walked in the shadow of St. David,
Two souls to redeem the years lost
Fighting; the unwavering war
Without ending.We walked in the shadow of the dragon,
Red shoes bleeding without needing
Hospital care,
Fire fire; the valleys ablaze.We walked in circles,
Black and white the shots we
Left behind, the truth more a
Shade of grey.
The Fate of Mortal Man
We were lovers,
Sharing the barren lands of
Mortal man.We sought no higher purpose,
The fate of men
Sufficed.The cravings,
The wash,
The Face of God
Wanting.
We were.
We were,
Yet not,Meant
.
The Us Minus the You
I never tried to love again, to find a
Heart I expected to win.
You fought the battles I did not
Understand, I passed; without a fail.
We were, yet never again, the sum of
Many, the broken without hoping, the
Wanting yet weary. We were many, too
Many; laughing without breaking. We
Were, yet I fail to recollect the me; the
Half of us, the I between the trees, the
Us minus the You. The self in the
Cracks in the mirror. The one behindThe words spoken.