Best Cobweb Poems


Premium Member The Cobweb

The Cobweb

I came upon a web one day
which carelessly I swept away.

I thought I had at any rate
not knowing all it did was wait.

Then a creature came a creeping
setting me to eyes a weeping.

How dare you not remember me?
You thought that you had set me free. 

I’m ever here, your own true grief.
Hovering always, the brackened thief. 


Kathryn Collins
February 2, 2014

for Jeannie

Premium Member Cobweb Dream

Cobweb Dream
                                by Shirley Rebstock


During the night, I had a dream
What in the world did it mean
I was bringing this patient to a doctor it seemed

I was not sure as it was getting late
If they would even see him on this date
Or would he have a long wait

This is where I work I told him with pride
As we went up the stairs more narrow than wide
Recently, returning from a long train ride

Dark and dingy walking through the hall
Even seeing dirt under the stalls, 
"Oooooh cobwebs" on the ceiling way up tall

At the top of the stairs, we opened a door
A sticky cobweb fell on our head then onto the floor
"Oooooh cobwebs" sticking to what we wore

On the other side of the door were doctors so kind, 
Working late, not seeming to mind
Caring for patients while most people dined

While waiting for the patient, I wondered who was to blame
For letting the cobwebs become so untamed
Either they were lazy or off their game

I wondered if the cobwebs were always there
High up on the ceiling where I did not stare
Even if I had, would I have cared

It made me ponder the cobwebs on my soul
Maybe they need a good cleaning to make me whole
So on my life and others they would not take a toll

So rather than blame or ignore
I asked the patient on his return,"Do you have cobwebs on your door
That fall from the ceiling to the floor?"

What is the meaning of this dream
Is it my soul that needs to be redeemed
Or just the office needs to be cleaned

Premium Member The Cobweb City

The cob web city sticks to your skin
as you pass through it jumbled strings
on its corners are hustlers 
and men with wigs wearing worn heels, selling their wares

Traffic moves slowly, like long crawling slugs
eyes get accustomed to waves of heat,
rising like dragons from the concrete streets
where scents drift from food carts fill 

Old men linger near drug stores, smoking cigarettes and coughing
the broke and lonely stop at every bar and chili parlor,
trying to fill empty pockets with pennies, lifted off the floors
sticking to the soles of society's shoes as a reminder,
that young is old, when left to fend for themselves
evil is a cold hand, never born from a gentle touch

Gray is a constant color when life becomes motion,
with unintended consequences, stopping long enough,
to disappear into the city's web
the people passing by see only shoulders and backs,
leaning against graffiti walls, trying to stay out of the rain
until locked doors open, at the shelter
 

contest Just Down the Road


Premium Member Cobweb Full of Desires

From the gate of the zip it sure will poke
cos a bare in gown saps all aeration
this jinx of self made lust isn’t a joke
fine legs can put him into commotion
sees her ins like a wool in fair mix’d coke
then the eyes stay put to this diversion
as the mind rots in the mud it is soaked
her head to toe in view for selection
the hand will love to slap a rear when near
he sees all not to be seen from a pear
and puts the mind to an aged long wear and tear
in each pump, some rise emit to blow
so much heat even amid much snow
his open face gets down to stay that low.

Cobweb

Cobweb on window,
Catches drifting clock seeds. 
Minutes slip on by.

Premium Member Cobweb

Covered with shiny beads of early morning dew
Out sparkling a d grade flawless diamond!
Busy spider has spun gossamer threads
Web builder extraordinaire is poised
Ever ready to pounce on unwary
Bugs which she will wrap in silk for her dinner!

Writing Challenge 6, March 2019 - 6 lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart

3/27/19


Cobweb Bridges

The days go by 
     and so do months,
          been so long now since I saw you last.

To listen to that voice
     my ears crave,
           but to pick up the phone and give you a call
                 I have a lot at stake.

With every falling star
      there is the same old wish,
            in hopes of it coming true
                   my days languish.

Making bridges with cobwebs
       burning them down at your convenience,
              you have done that a great deal
                     spurned my love with a hand of steel.

So, here I lay confined in my castle of tattered hope
        for the fading memories
                in the darkness I grope.

You have cast a spell on me
        for centuries I have stood here,
               waiting for thee.

Yet I continue to pray 
        for that ray of light,
              which will finally paint
                     my windows bright.

Dusty Cobweb Builders

DUSTY   COBWEB   BUILDERS


Who  ever  sees or even  knows  any  cobs?
The cobs who live in my house must be small 
Not  big or clumsy to live in such  delicate 
Webs up in the corners of my ceiling and wall.

Even if I destroy their cob webs
They  will be rebuilt in  the same style exactly:
So these guys are industrious and persistent.
Like the  morlocks*,  only  their handiwork I see.

But  why are they always so dirty?  
Never dust or clean their house each day?
Even the new cobwebs are dusty.
They  must just make ‘em that  way.

And where are the cobs whenever I visit their webs?
Possibly the  cob-man just couldn’t stand 
The dirt any more so he’s gone out
Down to the  cob-pub for his favorite brand.

The cob-kids are sleeping over at friends 
With their playstations (it’s a  must)
Showing  virtual cobs,  building virtual webs, 
With, of course, virtual dust. 

Meanwhile the cob-wife  is fed-up 
With the constant dirt everywhere and 
Wants a new  vacuum cleaner.
She’s in the cob-café with her girlfriend.

But  maybe these guys are really cob-realtors
Who’ll  build webs, quick and cheap,  and will
Simply  lease  ‘em  to other cobs, ready-furnished: 
With all the dust  you can handle.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
NOTES
*Morlocks are creatures in   H G Wells’s   THE TIME MACHINE

The rhyme scheme is that in each verse the second and fourth lines rhyme
. . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Theme   is   “ cobwebs and dust”  --  written  11th  March  2012
Entered in Francine Roberts’s  Contest      Cobwebs and Dust

Clear Cobweb Conundrums

Clear cobwebs from your eyes
To pave the way for progress
To grace and bless your life.

Premium Member Spider Eats Tonight

a clever disguise
giant snowflake camouflage
spider eats tonight

Cobweb On the Web

neo eld socialism
     mixed eld neo liberalism
         only web spiders

Premium Member Cobweb

Cobweb
Patiently, intricately done 
A trap for the unwary spun
With fine gossamer threads
In patterned fashion spread
By the use of fine technique
Across networks of intrigue
Causing chaos in the mind:
Fault of nature or mankind?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Word Vision Poetry iv Contest
Hosted by Vermillion Scythe 
© 21st November 2018

Premium Member Cobweb

a cobweb in hearth...
clearing of dusty corners
...the arachnid flames

8/20/2018

Premium Member Cobweb Holds Her Own

Dainty gauzy cobweb holds on valiantly retaining essence
Impressing Kansas fescue grasses and lovely Queen Anne ’s lace
Not intimidated by cool northern Arctic winds

Premium Member Cobweb Wishes

A bucket of passion-with a spray of ambition.
Can be a foundation for sparkling things...
A first flight -a college degree, a newborn cry.

Gracefully treading nightmares in black-finned nights.
Turning a death rattle into melodies in pearl.
Strung along the gilded wings of infinity.

A greying wish is an opaque endeavor.
It lends the hands to idling.
Creasing the satin of reality.
Old wishes dangle wearily from the ceiling.
Like dying Faries in a cobweb dream.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace