Neither despise any man
nor detest anything, even in the sand
For every man has his moment in the sun
everything a purpose in the long run …
Once I thought – but not a cockroach
execrable bug beyond reproach
Yet I've learned from neuroscience podcasters
You can Ai-wire ‘em to rescue victims of disasters
slammed
notebook
shut killing
a fruit fly dead
gone
By Poet "Our memories fill yesterday. Today our dreams will fill tomorrow."
Will my dream be here tomorrow?
A cool breeze does softy blow,
over me as if I will know.
Into deeper sleep I must go,
what will my dream now show?
I am still from head to toe,
feeling like I am aglow.
Another world I will go.
Within a dream what will I see?
A huge yellow bumble bee,
she was eating crackers and brie.
From this dream I want to flee,
please oh - please set me free.
My bed is now wet - I did pee,
let me out I will plea.
Now awake one, two, three.
My dream within a dream,
was it just too extreme?
It made me pee then scream,
what a very wild dream theme.
The bee rode a leaf downstream,
what a weird bee daydream.
Through the trees I saw a sunbeam,
the bright light looks like ice cream.
Now waking up with self esteem.
The draft dips downward, limbs swaying in the wind;
fearless butterfly hovers over a branch.
Listening too late, one strong gust of wind
propels her towards an overhanging tree.
She grabs hold; hunching under leaves; she waits it out.
What a story she'll have for her kiddoes tonight.
Audacious bee is busily engaged
stockpiling nectar from nearby tulip blooms.
He hears the wind's howl and quickly crawls to safety
deep inside a budding tulip blossom's petals.
"Wind's too strong to risk flying back to the hive;
I might land in Timbuktu or the Sahara."
Hard-working ants had set out on their quest early;
word has it that there's treasure on Ridge Rd.
Hauling crumbs twice his size, along the dusty path,
weary ant has made three trips already by noon.
More slowly, he trudges along with his last load
and gets wind of a blast coming his way.
Dropping cargo, he cowers to a crack just in time.
On a winding path of friendly kegs,
I consumed warm beer and picnic dregs.
Next to me, a little buzzer flied.
I asked, would he help me decide -
potato salad or deviled eggs?
the staircase stops mid-air
cobwebs choke in dust
down, down critters skitter
down invisible rails
waters swirl
up springs Hope
without a cue card
violins carry it off
Blue butterflies reflect in my eyes
But you say all you can see is blue skies.
Blue butterflies then ascend to real skies,
As I finally begin to truly realize...
soft as a butterfly’s kiss
invisible as a dragonfly’s wings
busy as the whirr of the honey bee
tasty as a honeysuckle trumpet
familiar as the mourning dove’s song
lazy as ol’ Mud Creek flows
comfortable as well-worn slippers
happy as an angel in flight
comforting as lullaby lows
secretive as Geisha fans
polka-dotted as dark crystal skies
clouds mimicking monotone artists
a color palette as brilliant as Monet
autumn crickets fall;
the noise they make they so call;
field crickets widespread;
~
fall cricket songs heard;
across North Americas;
ambience alone--
~
cracklings fire mist;
the waters flow and amiss
the grass still's grows loud;
~
cracks the crickets cricks;
the noise they make they so call;
field crickets widespread;
~
like a leap frog knee-
-deep embedded in a spring
log croaking ribbit
~
field crickets widespread;
the noise they make they so call;
cracks the crickets cricks;
8/30/2025
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
deserted now
the house of her youth
hiding places
for spiders
To all the male members
of the praying mantis species
a word to the wise you guys
now pay attention to my theses
whether for fun you recreate
or to mate and procreate
it's something I really would not advocate
hold on tight to your pants
love at first sight is not romance
I don't care if you look
but never dare go so far
as to unhook her bra
and whatever you do don't lose your head
as before postcoital dysphoria sets in
the female will kill you dead
she'll make a meal of you
tear you limb from limb
and if you don't believe me
when did you last see our randy brother Jim?
Though a doctor or a lawyer in my parents' eyes,
I eschewed that to become the best at catching flies.
I could have been a doctor (if I had been wise).
From their graves, I can still hear their tortured cries,
"When will little Davey finally realize
there's more to life than being best at catching flies?"
Segmented arms and legs are seen
wielding a broken machine.
A swinging lamp of kerosene
lights up a silent movie screen.
In the dark Circus Oblique,
presided o'er by the freak,
each butterfly is unique -
but none of them can speak.
Is it not a little odd,
ev'ry page his bug-eyes trod,
were a kind of lightning rod
for the sad boy who played God.
a ladybug flailing away on her back
a lad gets a whipping in a shack
each helpless in his own way…
to whom and for what do they pray
pair of butterflies
flitting from bloom to bloom
~ gracious nuptials
Specific Types of Insect Poems
Definition | What is Insect in Poetry?
Poems Related to Insect
tick, vermin, pest, mite, bee, fly, louse, arachnid, butterfly, gnat, dragonfly, moth, grasshopper, spider, cockroach, termite, ant, mosquito, beetle, flea, fruit fly, aphid, ladybug, cootie, bumblebee, bedbug, arthropod, hornet, daddy longlegs, praying mantis, yellowjacket,