Everywhere, sooner than later, there will be a hint of honey
On the bread box to start, where insomnia takes me to feed
……….my hunger for sleep
On the jar made mosaic by fresh drips still molten and old drops
……….petrified to amber.crystals preserving memories of past nights
On the table and on the counter and on the shambling muttering
……….path between, which I must navigate by stubbed toes and
……….muffled grunts
On the couch where its hints of gold hide among swirls of
……….upholstery pattern until weeks of adhered grime
……….draw them to black
On the radio buttons I use to lose myself in soft music or
……….the ramblings of fellow night walkers
On the bed I return to in optimism, my hairy legs speckled
……….with droplets that smear the sheet and comforter to
……….uncomfortable stickiness that makes me fidget and rouse
On the butter knife, when I get up again, the second knife of the night
……….I fetch after failing to fish the last one out of the suds of the dishpan
On the dog’s head while he begs beneath the honey-holding hand that feeds
On the cat who is glad I’m up to love her more when she rubs
……….against me because honey can hit even a moving target and
Although honey mucks the floors and summons the ants and
……….delights the flies and
Although I am under the punches of enough sleeping pills to hit
……….the mat a few times, down but not out and
Although my sense of balance is dopey, dozy and sluggish enough
……….that I tip and tilt the slice of bread slathered with honey
……….like a drunken waiter threatening a dozen laps with his
……….overloaded platter of plates and
Although almost any late-night snack would be more reasonable
……….and less Chaplinesque and
Although the sugar in the honey is most likely to make me twitch
……….into further wakefulness,
Reason can never compete with sweetness.
For even in daylight, my feelings are nearly reverential for honey,
……….nature’s most perfect accomplishment,
For the bees gather secretions from plants and flowers, but also
……….from insects, a secretion we call honeydew and Hebraic scribes
……….called manna and described as a fine, flake-like thing,
For it is in fact plant sap tapped and siphoned with such hungry vigor
……….by an aphid it spews out its anus to be slurped up by bees
For vomiting later into combs, to then be slurped up and vomited again,
……….a nausea of recurrence (although even the circadian bees
……….obey the call of sleep)
For a secret enzymatic alchemy to spin swill and sunlight into pure gold,
……….an impossible smelting of treasure from dross,
For which we must do homage to the bug that brings sweetness to us
For humans’ best effort at secretion is snot and while sleep is sweet,
……….we wake to a world that is not, that cries out for honey, even if
……….it is dripped and drizzled and mizzled on every armchair and
……….couch and steering wheel and keyboard and spouse’s smartphone
……….(forgive me, it was so sweet)
For every surface made sticky will speak to us with a smacking sound
……….when we lift our shoe or hand, will hold onto us, cling to us, as if
……….for once the world loves us back just a little and sweetly
dVerse Open Link Night #270 on July 23, 2020 Posted by Mish
Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #29: Writing about food, Wednesday, July 22, 2020.
Episode 4 of the PoJo Show — a podcast mixing poetry, spoken word, music, and sound — will go live Friday, July 24 on the Sound Files page and on my YouTube channel. Now also on: 
Jedediah Smith 
My goodness this is good! 💝 You had me at; “Reason can never compete with sweetness. For even in daylight, my feelings are nearly reverential for honey ….nature’s most perfect accomplishment.” Thank you so much for adding your voice to the prompt! 💝
Thank you for your kind words!
What an ode to honey!! My father used to put a spoonful of peanut butter on his plate and add honey, stirred to a smooth spread with which he topped one of mother’s flaky biscuits. Food for a king! He would well understand your reverence!
Oh, that does sound good!
I love honey too, although I don’t get up in the middle of the night to feed on it. 🙂
Incredible enjambment….aww, there should be such a word that includes honey….like “honeyment’, yes, the sentiments of honey! I like the break to catch our breath between spoonfuls with “Reason can never compete with sweetness.” and then it flows again. Ok, you’ve convinced me, honey is better than blueberries. 😉
Ha-ha. Luckily it’s not a contest.
Love this. The world literally cannot live without honey either directly or as an ingredient. I also love the descriptions in this piece and the flow is very smooth. Wonderful writing!
Many thanks
Not sure I’ve been here before? But very impressive Jedediah – such rich and origianl writing with such a lovely confident (almost conversational flow to it) I shall be back for more, for sure…
Welcome and glad you came by. Please do come again.
An epic poem to honey, Jedediah. I would have been happy with just these lines, so sensual and evocative:
‘On the jar made mosaic by fresh drips still molten and old drops
……….petrified to amber.crystals preserving memories of past nights’
and
‘On the dog’s head while he begs beneath the honey-holding hand that feeds
On the cat who is glad I’m up to love her more when she rubs
……….against me because honey can hit even a moving target…’
And you are so right, ‘reason can never compete with sweetness’, even if it is bee vomit!
Thanks for reading and happy you liked it
This is ~ amazing poetry. I felt the honey, tasted the honey, smelled the honey. Huge sigh from me.
Thanks so much – really glad to hear the poem could have an effect.
This definitely has an up-all-night dizzy, gooey madness to it. Right on! ~Jason
Now I want to add “up-all-night dizzy, gooey madness” to the poem!
What a tribute to honey but I love the images of you and the animals up in the night enjoying your moon honey. Wonderful image and hopefully you did sleep well after! Or did you write the poem in the night? It really flows well with so much originality. Hope you have more gooey nights
Thanks, I wrote the poem after going around the house guiltily with a wet sponge trying to clean up all the stickies.