Best The Web Poems
Hidden high in a corner, out of reach
listening to all your whispered speech,
along with my maker, hanging around
watching time pass until I'm found,
and brushed away by your broom
only to appear again in another room,
here to stay, I like this old place
just think of me as antique lace,
something beautiful and made by hand
a widow weaved me, strand by strand,
your fear of me, no longer fought
just an upturned smile now I caught,
inviting both of us to settle in
allowing my maker her web to spin,
crafted daily with a practiced hand
a thing so delicate and so grand.
An intricate mesh of thread
Holds together our hearts like a spiders web.
It started long ago
With a single, fine, white line,
A fragile link of silken twine.
A simple bond of heart and mind
Strands of love carefully intertwined.
We didn't continue to make it strong,
And yes, that's where we went wrong.
Now the loose ends dangle so far apart,
An immeasurable distance heart to heart.
Form:
New fashion Trend
There’s a new fashion trend that has my heart achin’
A scarf that looks like a raw slice of bacon
It’s made of silk crepe that looks crisp and all crinkly
Like some bacon uncooked before it’s all wrinkly
There’s a border that’s black like the bacon’s been smoked
And a lot of pale silk for the fat they evoked
And of course the top half is all pink and read
For that is the meat on which we’ve all fed
For just one-sixty Franks and a small shipping fee
You could buy this for Christmas and then give it to me
Then my inner GaGa would jump for sheer joy
No, I just changed my mind, I forgot I’m a boy!
Medical Marvels
Medics in a clinic in Honda,
Columbia – way south of our border
Helped a young woman who’s HooHa
Seemed a bit – well – out of order
It seemed she had green vines protruding
Where green vines should never have been
Twas from a potato now sprouting
That her mother had had her place in
Her mother said it was protection
An organic grown IUD
The sight of a vine from that region
I know would sure do it for me
The doctors said it was unhealthy
Removed it and all of its sprouts
They said she was now back to normal
But me; well, I still have some doubts
Another young woman in Bishkek
Somewhere in Europe I guess
Complained of severe stomach cramping
And seemed to be under some stress
She had a bad habit of chewing
Discarded hair and her own
And all that hair she had been chewing
Had gathered in her stomach zone
The doctors performed hair removal
An 8.8 pound ball of fur
She’s since cut her hair in a pixie
In case the urge should reoccur
A spider awaits a butterfly
As it comes fluttering by
It's caught in the silken trap
and struggles as its wings flap
Battling for survival under blue skies
The spider moves in for the kill
As the butterfly struggles still
It escapes the silky threads
Soars to freedom with wings spread
As it floats by the daffodils
Mending The Web Of Life
You can't always be right;
You won't always be wrong.
Nothing is all black or white;
In a world where all belong.
Ego is a form of separatism;
That ol' conquer and divide.
I choose to embrace bipartisan;
Over a wounded pride.
Religions that breed hate;
Politics that spawn from greed.
Time to rise and liberate;
Allow none to continue to impede.
Walk together down a path of peace;
In healing and harmony.
Promote unity to increase;
Congregate as one human family.
So it is said and so shall it be;
May it be done with beauty and respect.
Flourish once more from the sacred tree;
May our hearts interconnect.
The World Wide Web,
Is a daunting thing.
It connects us with others,
We've never seen.
We navigate with caution,
Not knowing what lurks.
A valuable road map,
In spite of its' quirks.
With due diligence we filter,
The lies from the truth.
Always accepting its' flaws,
Because of its' youth.
Walter Scott said it best,
Though I doubt he did conceive,
His prophetic pen to paper,
In "What a tangled web we weave".
I, the technologically challenged one,
am surfing the web even as we speak.
I thought computers would be one and done,
but now I find that we must all speak Greek
and learn the ins and out within a week.
This is nothing new; it's gone on for years.
I learned the basic Word and Excel stuff
once upon a time, but none of it clears
a temp agency, it's just not enough.
So in the end I'm playing blind man's bluff.
We live in a pluralistic world and society,
Where there's many diverse groups:
Different communities and religions -
About that you can't go through any hoops.
The web should enable all to function,
Free, empower and give identity;
Speech and spoken language are not certified,
So why restrain those who kindle controversy?
A healthy web promotes the blogosphere,
Says that social networking is a right,
That your email address is your privilege,
And that google has ethical height.
But some countries ban them all,
For fear of opinions, taunts and passions;
Governments prohibit gabbers and critics,
And large companies drive at their own visions.
However, freedom of speech and expression,
Stay golden even when trivialised or put down,
And are enabled by privacy, by no observation,
Whether there’s pleasure, distress or frown.
Every belief should be upheld:
Religious, atheist, humanist or crank;
And this premise should be written,
Such that arguments will not mark.
The first Magna Carta liberated,
The individual in society,
So a second Magna Carta is needed,
To free the user digitally.
The web should be cheap for all to use,
And user data should be private strictly;
An open infrastructure should be decentralised,
By having foreign servers for every country.
Whistleblowers keep abuse levels low,
And ethical hackers hold governments to account;
GCHQ should not be above the law,
To tap the publics digital footprints, shouts.
We need to discuss a new Magna Carta,
For the internet, with certain net neutrality,
To keep high quality content affordable,
And state internet law for all in unanimity.
Intrigues trap,
Spider weaves a web,
Escape unhurt.
A New Earl of Sandwich
In a former men’s bathroom on the old Boston Common
You can now get a burger or noodles by Ramen
It was built in the 20s as a “men’s comfort station”
Used for 50 years and then deactivation
For the next 40 years it was all locked up tight
Filled with urinals and toilets and other delights
But the Earl of Sandwich that of Florida base
Said we’ll buy and refurbish as a great sandwich place
So they took out the urinals, the toilets, the sinks
And cleaned up the place so it no longer stinks
The interior’s now just a kitchen and prep
And the former old restroom has lost its bad rep
The building now looks as if back in its day
This once former restroom has come a long way
Now the good folks of Boston can all rest assured
That this dingy old bathroom’s no longer a turd
The Web
By
Stan Almendro©
I sit so quiet at my window watching this little fly
It is also being watched by a spider oh so sly
The web is spun and now it is the patient game
In every walk of love and life, it is for us the same
The web of love and life is spun for every one
It makes our hearts so light or feeling like a ton
No hairy-legged spider is watching o’er this web
It is often a blue-eyed guy with curls on his head
At first, it is a smile and a short winking of the eye
This makes my legs so weak and a big hearty sigh
The web has no power yet draws the victim nearer
It is what makes falling in love evermore so dearer
So my blue-eyed spider as you wait there by your web
Is it me you want to snare or someone else instead?
The force of your stringy web is more than I can take
It is either a silky web or my heart that you will break
Well I’ve now lost site of the sly spider and the little fly
I do not see a hairy-legged monster looking oh so sly
My legs are weak and my heart is pounding very high
I’ll let be that blue-eyed spider if you let me be your fly
Did you think, that I would not know?
The web you weave with your pernicious soul?
You spin and spin and then retreat.
Leaving the entanglement of your ludacris deceit.
At first you don't suceed, you then try it again..
Doing whatever it takes to lure them back in.
Think about where you spin your luck.
A paramour, the black widow, may devour you up.
There once was a poet named Tom
Whose exterior he tried to keep calm
But when verses he'd share
Got responses so rare
He’d rather they’d dropped the F-Bomb.
2/29/16
Placed in the "Limerick for a Sensitive Community" Contest 3/14/16
The mental instability of a liar
when they hear the truth cursing begins ugly
you are judging me seems to be their next move
cornered crying the victim, pity feel sorry for me me me
I am a good person the first sin tells its tale
those under the veil of sight replying violently in nature
Which corner alters your ego to put up such a fight
what rules apply to the under dog quarrelling
There is only one circle drawn in the sand
we are all sinners needing forgiveness every day
pride you will not let go through sheer stubborn behaviour
chained to the fragments of a soul's spirit
trust has been betrayed never will it say sorry
even when proven wrong it quarrels about position
the highest value holds the light separating darkness