Fly spoke to spider,
Creeping up close behind her,
"Rak off, hairy legs!"
Grey, hairy, beady eyes,
Scuttling away, spinning,
Webs of perversion,
Sticky tendrils wrapped,
Around my walls,
Breaching boundaries,
Like Halloween romp,
Long held fears,
Diverse, scary feelers,
Sqirting surface spray,
Their mandibles merge,
Guess we're all human,
But loathe spiders and pimps.....
325.
What If There are No Spiders?
When I was a child, I was afraid
Of that creature a “spider” they said
Its many legs were like ready to clutch
Its creepy mouth seems like ready to catch
Look at the eyes which are hard to read
Don't know where they are going me to lead
Is it to the net which for it is a dwelling?
But a slaughterhouse for any sloppy being?
While the snared dying prey helplessly shook
It drains its flesh & fluids! Look!
What if I'm the one it's gonna eat?
Oh how I tremble at the thought of it!
Good if the catch is a virulent criminal
Or any pest that's violent & lethal
This agent of horror can be like a police
What if there are no spiders or neutralizers of society's disease?
-01/28/2015
(Dumarao)
*Defense of the Animals Collection
I did not see anything out there
But my dogs were going nuts
Maybe someone was sneaking around
Possibly getting toilet paper ready to tee-pee us
I looked out there
nothing
Let the dogs out.
They ran toward the oak tree, barking fiercely
Two giant spiders chased them back to the house
I did not realize how terrified they are of giant spiders
Then I noticed my husband out there
He had fallen down, and the spiders were eating his feet.
Ziggy was a sexually curious alien
A celestial rock star from sanguine Mars
a Stardust being who journeyed to Earth
A Moon Age Starman made a five-year voyage
described in Bowie's playlist as having
"a screwed down hairdo like a cat from Japan"
Bowie took on the iconic persona of Ziggy
who landed in an alley of cardboard boxes.
Maybe it was his idea of a Suffragette City
The album cover's artwork was meant
to give a view of Bowie's thoughts
on politics, drugs, sex, and his fame in the 70s.
But Ziggy felt his telescopic view of Earth
hadn't prepared him for what he found
on what he thought of as a 'voodoo planet'
Go figure, since he had spiders for friends
The fret of his guitar was silenced
by the fretting he did over feeling lost and alone
Ziggy was a space invader,
Bowie's alter ego who explored themes of fame,
identity, and societal expectations.
Back cover instructions read...
"TO BE PLAYED AT MAXIMUM VOLUME.”
To which many replied, albeit perhaps without words:
"Aye aye, Captain!"
Not meant for my ears at those decibels
The wind billows the trees with god-forsaken draft,
And rinses the limbs with splashes of rain.
Zephyr's raging bluster brings forth storm's chaotic craft,
Blowing silver threads to new starts again.
Sailing without order, the threads land where they may----
On fence, on plants, on a patio chair.
The small spiders, thus carried, will emerge in a day,
And crawl past your toes to find a choice lair.
Here is a poem I posted on my Instagram account daisymeadows2023. Poetry prompts by POETS ISLAND and poem suggestion by @sabrinas-poems.
SPIDERS SONG
A silken Web has been spun,
A pattern of beauty,
Weaving and dancing has begun.
Of each delicate strand,
A tale unfolds,
Of creatures fate,
In the spiders hold!!
Such nimble legs,
Dancing with such grace,
Then hiding in the shadows,
Not showing their face.
A spiders song is bittersweet,
But such beautiful tapestry.
All unique!!
Each web has it's own mystery,
A spiders song,
Weaved in harmony, like a symphony!!
Hear Harry’s hysterical, startling scream.
Little spooky spiders made him run to the extreme.
It wasn’t a fairytale fantasy dream;
the cobwebs created a crazy football team.
Mother thought she’d heard their scary scheme,
so she planned to question the Queen.
I thought they were merely mean,
moving to our happy home, creating a scary scene.
you always notice black marks on the floor
checking, in case they scurried with evilness
but don’t look at me, no no no, I double-took
earlier and to be honest I’d rather carry the
village church up the stairs wearing flip flops
Glistening diamonds
reside in the holes
underground seekers
spin webs down below
whispering tales
of forgotten echoes
I like spiders and I like black ants.
For fleas and lice, I take another stance.
Sometimes, I wonder if they admire us.
The same question goes for a virus.
Neither foolish fleas and lice, spread by mice,
Nor black ants and spiders, heed my advice.
Disgusting dirt and dust cannot defend
Against a vacuum cleaner's business end.
I'll add one more stanza in this edit
To give that nasty virus credit
For being both invincible and mean
And evading vacuums - COVID-19.
Lady spiders
Ferocious and venomous
Twisting webs of lies
Hiding under veiled faces
And fake personas
Sure they lend you a tampon
But they never show up when you need them
They'll compliment your fit
But they're the first to say "I hate you"
If you don't compliment them
Preaching sisterhood and feminism
Will only get you so far my dear
Someday you'll learn that,
Actually,
I don't need you
Your hair dye
Your emotional baggage
Or your approval
I'm fine sitting in the library by myself
Walking to class by myself
I am solitary and I am singular
I'll leave you,
So long as I have my sanity intact
Meet new people
Cycle of abuse starts again
Why can't I have nice female friends?
All
True
Goths
Covet
Lace
Vampires
Lightning
Spiders
Coffins
And
Poetry
*I wrote this poem on January 8, 2024, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ January challenge. This was day 8 and the prompt was:Write a mnemonic poem to remember the zodiac signs.
The leaves are falling, dropping like melted ice.
It must be autumn, there is a spectacular show
Of red, yellow, and frosty foliage. Though it’s still nice
Weather-wise, in a heartbeat, soon we’ll see snow.
My beautiful cherry tree is getting sadder every day.
The little green, which existed on my lawn, stopped growing.
The squirrels are busy stocking nuts next to the old chimney.
Only the spiders seem happy trapping flies that are passing.
It must be autumn, the Halloween paraphernalia, the faux grass
And the turkeys are littering the lawn with fake cemeteries,
Statues of Dracula, mini-coffins, and pseudo dead bodies.
The leaves are falling as if the trees were tired and lazy.
People are walking faster and the elders look very grumpy.
The leaves are yellow and ready to be recycled. Alas!
Copyright © November 2015, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
The baby spiders are everywhere
they find there way onto my glasses
and hang via a thin thread of webbing
Most would be fearful
but I find these creatures comforting
as they are my only friends
in my days of dark dispair
I gently find the spiders a new home
on the doorknob
in the plant
at a plate beside my dinner set
And do they talk to me
oh how they do
forming and binding new friendships
that can only be broken by their passing
Baby spiders I love you
you are my best friend forever
when I need one so much
Sub Categories
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.