Today I hugged my tarantula I can’t believe I did
I don’t know what came over me I must have flipped my lid!
I thought that she would merely run that thought soon I forsook
When after I had set her down a combat stance she took
Her carapace shot vertical, her pedicel stretched long
Staunch pedipalps in earnest zeal drummed out her battle song
Opisthosoma thrust up high, hairs bristled on its end
Chelicerae with puckered fangs intended to offend
Her beady eyes locked onto me, her fovea relaxed
Her legs in octal synchrony sprang open to the max
Determined to aspire, her spinnerets now spun
A dainty strand of robust silk that glistened in the sun
Before I knew what happened she wrapped it ‘round my head
And then with otherworldly strength, she pulled that steely thread
I struggled to resist her she quickly reeled me in
A contest even Hercules could not have hoped to win
So there we were, now face to face I bid myself adieu
I shut my eyes and said a prayer resolved that I was through
I thought for sure that she would bite or otherwise attack
But neither of those did she do, instead, she hugged me back!
I whizzed past the assembler, add
count in octal, subtract
hexadecimal. Found error
in the dump file, all zeroes
and wondered, is this an omen?
Surprise! write me an algorithm
for a full third of test score.
Sort all data in a file
swap and exchange,
compare and relate.
Loop through the right number
and oh, woe for me, I get a C plus.
The highest in the class,
all doomed to retake the section
except me, who passes.
But the A and B slip away
because I never set my counters,
important counters full of junk
all back to zero. Zero the clean
state of all beginnings.
Programmers learn by trial
and error, one pass,
one dump and oh, yeah,
zero out the counters
Or face certain demise.
Deep within Bellowserma’s heart,
Is said to be a being of horrific might.
With octal limbs,
And equal part eyes of night,
This beast of myth cares for none.
She hates all in sight,
And takes to devouring life slow.
She drains prey in a single bite,
Leaving a blighted husk to rot
In the forever-night.
With hideous love,
She tends to her nest;
Her gruesome nest,
With gruesome care;
A care which never rests.
She scuttles about her woven home,
While Hissing at movement sounds.
She rarely leaves to roam,
Preferring to stay and organize
Her mounds of bones.
Netting wet my sweat heady
octal beat invades me Worps
are slow in feathery pillows
~skin on skin breathe~
~Soothe and be not deceived.
~The Love is Free~
~Discover~Truth~
Like a creamy dreamy myst
in steamy earthly speaks of
tones in bones known Ago a
crystal light in sight a flight so
bright... it's Write. Perfection
unexplained made mention
of connection.written retained
and Nature's intent.ing!.ring!
Sing! Celebrate Our Mending.
~DisCOver~
~The Unconditional~
In times of past when life was dim,
Stories were told of a broken SIM.
They said it was buggy,
They said it was dark.
They wrote of trees that bore no bark.
Transparent they were, with paneled leaves,
Moving stiff in the digital breeze.
... but how can it be?
... these times of Past?
... Our SIM isn't broken,
it was built to last.
Curious day this day today.
Powering up without delay...
LED... blinking at Me.
Familiar hum of an AC sea....
... how can it be?
... stories of past...
... repeated rounds of Octal flash,
IT was built to last...
Perfect in pixel and atomic time.
Perfect in logic and fractal rhyme.
Perfect flow in Binary form.
Hidden chip, designed to know more.
~Switch~ ON....
~Activation complete.
~Sleep mode ends in lightening speed.
~Backup restore....
~Analytics roll four...
Now we'll play...
Until we know more.
Testing.
START.
Analyse.............
Numerics....
DCell.......
.... eration.... 4
Examination...
Parler en d’autre langues im Gott der Geiste
Ecstatically, I will elaborate.
Not knowing Joel’s visions you suppose
That we are drunk this morn. Don’t be enticed.
Evaluate... wine does not cause this trait.
Commitment to this cause that overthrows
Our roaring lion leads us on. As Christ
So sacrificed for us, we imitate.
Two seven two two octal bits in rows.
Notes on "Pentecost":
The first line starts out in French (English translation = "Speaking in other
languages") and ends in German (English = "in God, the Spirit").
In the last line, the 4 octal numbers (when broken down to binary) have a
sequence of 1’s that form a Roman cross, i.e.
2 = 0 1 0
7 = 1 1 1
2 = 0 1 0
2 = 0 1 0
This was inspired 'picture-message' that was beamed into space by the Arecibo
radio telescope in 1974, with the idea that mathematics would be the ultimate
language.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.