homelessness, honey, rope-ladder

The honey bear’s dilemma (almost an odyssey)

when it ran out of honey:
was it still a honey bear?

I.
yes,
absolutely

(he knew the prefix to his name was arbitrary,
being named after one’s diet is unfortunate.

still,) it was his name
like green, or ocean,
intrinsic possession.

(the enigma of an identity
is only as deep as one digs ;
he was gladly shovel-free.)

he decided to look for some;
as food the taste was pleasing,
nothing more.

*
the forest was wide
and his strength of paw
could easily procure some

breaking branches
crushing leaves
he walked the forest for hives of bees
and strangely, unnaturally,
finding none, he kept walking
as moon and sun
took their turns to retire
and he began to tire.

finally he saw some bees
and following them excitement-seized
he found their hives and
a group of other honey bears
he thought new friends !
he only found mistrust ugly
when he explained he had no honey.

no honey, no honey? they mocked
you really a honey bear then?

of course I am, I’ve looked and walked
and walked and looked
the soles of my paws are sore like red
and I am weary as a bed
(because beds you know, have no place to sleep)
please, will you share your honey?
there's plenty here, I won’t take much
my tongue just misses it’s sweet sticky touch.

you lazy bear, you lying piece of fur,
how dare you covet what is ours
I bet you haven’t even tried for hours
you call yourself a honey bear, I’m not so sure,
be gone now and don’t think twice
the second time, we won’t be nice.

the honey bear was stunned and left –
his head spinning like a top;
a cleft to his world dealt swift, indifferent.

was he less honey bear without honey?
was he impotent and lowly?

besides, they hadn’t even made the honey
why would they not share
the abundance that was there
chanced upon by being early?

he would show them!
be the early bear to some other hive
fill his belly ‘til it was fat and thrive
as a real honey bear affirmed by wealth
(despite his proud indignant thought
a battle had been lost unfought ;
a dent where certainty had been
a doubt in what no honey could mean
a shovel found unsought.)
*
no honey, still no honey,
steps were weak and lighter now
creasing leaves
bending branches
his curving back a perpetual bow
as he stumbled thoughts evolved,
turning metal developing edge,
a hundred shovels all involved
deepening the dent with his every stumble,
a honey bear falling fell below humble.

why can’t I find honey, what does this mean?
who is a honey bear when he is so lean
on honey ?

*
he found himself in a pit ;
a profoundly empty honey pot
where all he tasted was his own spit
where he imagined he would rot
while dreaming about rope-ladders
and kind paws

he was still wandering in the forest actually
but the tall walls he imagined around him
cast a shadow
and he consoled himself in the shade

*
sticky amber
functional as its demand
took on the value of gold

and he who no longer knew who he
was a pauper

II.
no,

it is now a bear(ly)