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The Insect Sonnets (an occasional series) by Paul Brookes
1. Sweet Pollen
Bigger wing beat gusts me from sweet pollen
billows, I must stick to its surface amid
buffet and blast. Now heavier, taken,
away from scented trail back home I skid.
Track my trail through vibration pulses, map
I will dance when home is reached to tell all
where sweet pollen will be found, waggle tap
the route after unloading my food haul.
As light fades our head sensors flop, my legs
wrap around others, I rehearse my days
forage, retrace my flight, my complex steps
mark vibration changes that radiate.
Bright warmth lifts our heads from sleep to again,
find our memory way, avoid harsh rain.
2. We Poisoners
l Ingest, store poison for feathers, her.
Changed in white she must be stillness.
I wait outside her cocoon, her wings fettered,
unstretched, un-inflated, I pass fullness,
into her with a generous capsuled gift,
attracted by her poison plumes, invasive
insects mandibles, legs glued globule gripped. Our red warnings briefly adhesive.
Our bulbous bairns nosh on green flesh deadly
to others. Chew it to stalks till hunger
crawls ever broader, masses in deathly
carcasses litter path to fresh fodder.
Death and sex infest grub and danger times.
Wrapped as one, alert and vital and mine
3. A Stag Beetle
Scratch decayed wood until it splinters. Hunt
these spikes for soft white wood swallow inside.
Indigestible I make a hard front,
swallow soil ready to throw back up outside.
Create a smooth cover, give myself horns,
six legs, two wings all soft and white. Don't know
how I know how, where, and what shapes to form,
nor what light is, till lust makes me go,
shift this bulk, these wings buzz into hot bright.
There can be a few in battle for her.
My heavy horns twist, locked in long fight
to straddle her. Must turn them all over.
Hungered in dark most of my life.
Brief lusty flight, fight and sex in the light
4. A Turnip Moth
Under I wait till dark. Light lessens. Beak
stab shakes where I am. Dark. Out from Under
chew tender stem. Move back Under when heat
of many Over brightens. Asunder
I dig. Push asunder. Turn and turn and
turn. Under under. Legs tendril lengthen.
Softness to float in the Over expand.
I hear now, inside trembles at sound when
others outside call in dark to know where
they are, and what meals move around the dark
Soft and wet I push asunder to air.
Listen in bright while softness rustles hard.
Even insects remember their young times.
Pests like weeds try to survive humankind.
The Unresolveables (An Heroic Crown Sonnet Sequence) by Paul Brookes at (sonnets 1-15)Anthology Post: Finding a Wonderland in Alice by Paul Brookes (poetry)https://thewombwellrainbow.com/
David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to email@example.com.
Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof