Short Crawler Poems

Down I fall
Followed by the roof and four walls
Hushed
Humiliated
Crushed
But I still have space to crawl...

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mid twigs web stretches
daddy long-legs spider dance
creepy crawler net

7/30/2023


'Just One' Contest Info Group 3
Sponsored by	Sara Kendrick...

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From creepy crawler caterpillars to beautiful butterflies
Metamorphosis takes place and out poops these colorful guys
Impressive yet simple
Not a single pimple
Clearest skin right down to its thighs...

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Why don't they call veterinarians, dogtors
And why don't they call a bunch of people, mobsters
Who created these words
Methinks some are for the birds
As much sense as calling a newborn a creepy crawler...

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squirmy night crawler
how a little, dirt digging
digs the morning lawn
~
squirmy night crawler
little a dirt digging worm
burrows in morning



8/22/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©...

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A slender black spot
On my bedroom door at night
Became a crawler.

Around the carport,
Up and down the hall peeking,
The lightning man ran.

Hideous tree men...
Shadows like bad guys reaching...
Monsters imagined....

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I wish I was an insect
I would love to have six legs.
Not a creepy crawler.
Maybe a detritivore 
I relish the idea of devouring dead plants and animals.
Sounds creepy?
Only to you.
To me it sounds delicious.
You kill your cow before you eat it, don’t you?...

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Early morning, city street,
Glancing down around my feet,

There, as if upon a trail,
Sat a tiny little snail.

How he got there, I don’t know;
Snails and cities just don’t go.

Either he’ll survive or not;
I believe he has a shot,

Though New Yorkers, I’ll admit,
Don’t like creatures slow as _ _ it!


(a shorter version of a previous post
for Rhyme Battle Contest by Juli-Michelle)...

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If I’d Only Known
Miracle Man
October 24, 2023

We age and mountains seem to get taller,
but we trudge on seeing we’ve no choice.
Our gait once more, is that of a crawler,
and in public space we’ve no more voice.

Many things challenge us in advanced years,
and sooner or later we all wind up lonely.
Our eyes are now filled with unshed tears,
And we question “what if’s” and “if I’d only”.
...

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Someone hear me,
 someone cheer me,
Someone tell them i exist...
 SO what I am a crawler,
SO what I can't sing louder..
 I am not dead yet,
     Tell them I exist....

Many sins I have done,
 Either by mistake OR for fun..
Weight of my demon days
 drowning me into the ground..
SO what I am studded deep,
 I am still making sound...
SO what it's just a '"hiss'" 

I am not dead yet
        Tell them I exist......

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There is a town in Austin
they call "the Roach Motel,"
for many a poor roach that entered there
a sticky fate befell.
Now roaches, you keep our of there
whatever may entice,
for any roach may enter once,
but never enter twice.
My father as a crawler,
who crawled from dive to dive,
but he steered clear of roach motels,
and therefore did survive.
Guests of the roach motel, I vouch,
roach mother, tell your son,
need no   long-term pension plan.
Alas, I know,  I am done....

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