An Insect And a Half
I am an insect. Half of my name is another insect. What am I?
Beetle. (Bee is the other insect).
Blow for Blow They Matched Each Other
Blow for blow,
they matched each other.
Neither would fall to the other.
In the eyes of the crowd,
they were this.
Equal.
By Sef Daystrom
Can’t Keep It Until You’ve Given It
You can’t keep this until you have given it.
A promise (or your word).
The Start Of What You Might Conceive
I’m the start of whatever you might conceive.
Next I describe a Thanksgiving meal.
Last I transform to a state we all leave.
What am I?
begin, binge, being. Everything has a beginning, Thanksgiving dinner is known for being a meal of excessive consumption and the mortal state of being (or the state of a human being) is one which, for all our efforts to extend, will eventually end.
Lighter Than What I’m Made Of
Lighter than what
I am made of,
More of me is hidden
Than is seen.
An Iceberg.
A Woman Shoots Her Husband
A woman shoots her husband, then holds him under water for five minutes. Finally, she hangs him. Five minutes later they enjoy a wonderful dinner together. How can this be?
She took a photo of him and developed it in the dark room.
Hurt Without Moving
We hurt without moving.
And poison without touching.
We bear truth and lies,
But are not judged by size.
What are we?
Words.