Spidery Poems

Boy How She Loves To Bite

She is a flesh devouring fairy who feasts on children 
who dont' wash their hands and primp their toes 
Darkly inclined she lives in the shadows, once bitten  
you will turn as evil as her extra long snubby nose 

Her name is Darkelina and she snickers to herself    
she owns spidery fingers and her teeth are razor sharp  
Sponge em' down, disinfect, scour them clean or else  
she will cleave your little pinkie and stitch it to her harp 

Darkelina Pixie-Meana  thats what they call her Heh ! 
better wash it or hide it before she finds you child 
Gloomy and morose with a dark disposition, its her way 
better tuck them under the covers, for she is crazy wild 

Beyond the twitch of night she can give you such a fright 
shes got teeth with jagged edges, boy how she loves to bite !

signs of autumn

wind whisks smoky veils
sun’s dust on spidery silk~
gossamer dreamscape

sky undresses gold 
filling the air with roses~
an opium kiss

trees adorned in brown
mirror the silent corn moon~
fallen escapade

of poetic reverberation

I saw him
Well, I actually heard him
Shouting
                       POETRY HERE
                                       GET YOUR POETRY HERE
SONNETS ON PARADE
                     ALLITERATION TROTTING BEHIND
                                         METAPHOR MOCKING THE MOONLIGHT

He waved his papers proudly
Temptingly reciting snippets
Spidery webs
Inviting the unsuspecting
To slow down
                 To listen

A few passersby gathered
Chuckling at the idea

Unaware 
          They had succumbed
                                     Altered their paths
Stood
      Motionless
                  Mouths a-gape
                                    Mesmerized
Ensnared
          In the gossamer tones
                                       Of poetic
                                                  Reverberation

Fairy Dresses

Wondering how fairies obtain dresses?
It's because they have fairy seamstresses
Sewing with pine needles and spidery
Gathered from spiders fine web filigree.

Pretty petals for fabric, leaves for shoes
Smelling of sweet fragrant floral perfume
Flowers to adorn their flowing tresses
Crystal star droplets sown into dresses.

Gossamer to turn into fairy wings
So fairies may fly in sky, revelling
Sprinkles of fairy dust, a wand for luck
When all dressed up, so pretty fairies look.

When you find fairies in a fairy glade
Recall how their lustrous outfits are made.

Webs

Beautiful webs.

Spidery, and the spiders know everything.

Now they are cobbling cobwebs.

In a basement.

The basement is where there are sounds of leaking and creaking.

Sounds that are not meaningful.

Webbing that used to be like connections and ideas- 

That are not meaningful these days.

The webs waver a bit from the draft in this cold place.

The spiders died.

And spiders know nothing.

Halloween Abcedarian 2023

amber skies announce autumn
black bats and black cats
costumes line the sidewalks
Dracula climbs out of his crypt
elves, faeries and brownies dance the streets
Freaks are getting on their freak
Ghostly ghouls and goblins chase princesses
Halloween parade is in rare gear
Ideal night for trick-or-treat
Jack-o-lanterns proudly sit
Knives focus in on the pretty ones at hand
Leave some candy for me! Says my aunt Fran
Monsters appear out of the October mist
Noisy neighbors watch from inside their house
Orange and black crepe paper in store windows
Pumpkin pie with whipped cream is in my frig
***** creatures zigzag in and out of walkers
rambunctious teenagers scare the little ones
spidery webs are dangling from many porches
trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!
Under the bridge scary ghost stories are being told
Vim and vigor oozes out of every Captain America five-year-old
Witches cackle as their green faces wander the streets
‘xtravagant costumes try to one-up the rest of us
Yellow-eyed cats miss nothing
zinging in and out are goblins carrying large sacks

Creaturely

Rough hands upon her,
not near, there, or where,
nor the seashell tip of a fingering care
            or other
            lack-lustering lapping's
but the groundless clubfooted grasping
                  of long incoherent passions.

A clinker of desire hammered anew
                by the forceful hands
of mist shrouded Nibelungen;
a dross now forged bright
  into red-eyed gleams of flame.

She who bears the weight
of such a slobber-lipped changeling
                covers his paws
with a tracery of spidery entanglements
the softest spell-binding webs
          that break his knuckles;
refining hot bones
              into phantom kisses.

For her satisfaction (and hers alone),
she captures that clumping stray
            caging him deep,
  and he left with no hands but hers.

Life Before the Internet

I recall writing checks in my spidery crawl.
The TV then was a humming spaceship
with glowing innards that deep-scanned 
all who glued their flickering, bug-eyed minds to it;
it abducted whole families at a time.
That same television
materialized microwaves as heavy as lead ingots
replacing bread bins
while ushering in decades of TV dinners.
“Radio Shack’ and “Block Busters’ were thriving
The short brutal war between Betamax and VHS 
was long over.
Cars had not yet learned to speak.
Many men thought that learning to type
would be a waste of their valuable time.
We had to go out to get stuff.
Fish in fish tanks 
were considered adult entertainment.
The long married kept their sex life
hid like a ‘sixteen millimeter’ movie
projected onto the back of their brains.
Camera film had to be sent away
to be often irretrievably lost.
The food pyramid was thought to be 
the right way up – we were already fat-heads.
We trusted the nightly news.
Then the Net captured us,
we found we had many hidden talents,
some even discovered how to wriggle their ears
and both at the same time!

Dawn Uncovers

A damp sky softly falls to earth.
Chilled gray webs tremble
as dawn parts its spidery threads.

Squirrels peep through the day-break.
A black crow shakes an iridescent rainbow
off glossy wings.
A geranium in a terracotta pot
unfolds a carmine face.

Lately I have risen before the day.
I have watched how the Goddess
undresses only to choose a new costume.

This morning She is silver
in a shadow-glow, Her slippers are puddles
where pearls are scattered -
all still too deep to be reached
by mortal hands.

Three Steps

I almost trod on it
but then my shoe kinda flinched,
one leg hovered in the air
not wanting to feel or hear that sound.                                
There’s a large dead cricket 
belly-up     
three steps down on the stoop.
Yellow-green exoskeleton still vibrant
spidery legs stiff and splayed
in the morning sun.

I know body cavities crunch when turning to dust
I have seen the dead still dying away.
I have seen their exhumed bodies.

I’m not stepping on my truth today.
One fine day all our flesh will be healed;
 spiritually formed, vibrant,
fully returned to the many colors of love.

Three steps down from the highest stoop
something real good will be true, 
for us I reckon.

The Decadent Dance

Night air shivers in restless repose
To pallid dreams of dorment desire
Creaking groans of lost souls moan
Some poor tortured thing may haunt

Besieged by phantasmagoric demons
Lest blood deceive pernicious tales
Crumbling corridors hear chants that echo
Midst gossamer embraces that flicker intent

Bibles smoulder their pitiful surrender
An effigy of crucified Christ beholds
Soulless eyes invite submission
Cradling esurient sanguine lust

Shrouds cascade in flowing tatters
Whispers waft upon dank air
Inviting fleeting prayers murmered
A weeping tear on cheek to bare

Crucifix clutched with growing fervour
Defends this depraved decadent dance
Beguiled in spidery webs uncertain
A purifying presence subdues perchance

Screams descend as fiery infernos
Like dancing flame to spiralling moth
Ash cascades as falling snowflakes
Melting like the morning frost

© Arcana

Spider Web

a
long
fragile
spidery
silver threadlike street
crossing in nature's G.P.S.
like those swinging bridges in gentle wafting breezes
temporary avenues to more hospitable environmental habitat

written January 3, 2022

Tableau

An elderly television speaks to her
in a deaf duplex.
Her garden is a cluster of cobwebs,
it rattles and spins its gossamer skeletons
by the shade of a spidery light.

Alone In Scary Silence

The moon veiled in a web darkness;
bejeweled in radiance starkness,
to delve into the dark only the prince of darkness.

I was alone in the silence weaves,
while childish, I walk through dried leaves.
With every breath my chest heaves.

I tried to hurry though the abandon churchyard
cemetery on my way home. It was so hard,
it was a shortcut to get home, I uttered no word.

Decaying stone steles overgrown with soft green
moss, pushed up by tree roots, lean
like shadow soldiers clawing their way to the surface unseen.

Through the shadows, a gleaming old ivory,
shaken, tinkling, but the notes were spidery
strangled and eerie stripped of flesh and finery.

Blue lights dance above each stele, while ghosts
on the grounds in lavender reckon among their host.
Now so lowly lie, as they do not weep, but boast.

Through the open door and illuminated hall I run in;
no sound upon the wooden floor as I spin.
A grin from my mother; I am greeted by all the kin.

11/1/2021

''S'' Contest, New Poems Poetry Contest 5.  scary
Sponsored by: Constance La France

Shaddah Is Ready To Be Herself

Bubbling up in a spidery translucent glow
Cellophane rainbows pranced prettily
It was a mysterious concoction fit for the gods
or in this case a goddess of prophecy who had forgotten herself

Shaddah had brought her best ingredients to the amethyst altar
Using her Grandmother Jeannie’s famous Wiccan kettle
Mixer of the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter
Translucent neon colors rose into the spellbound ether

Shaddah felt whole for the first time in ten years
Perhaps she was worthy of her grandmother’s beliefs
About her goodness and her prophetic abilities
Talents and ideals she had forgotten began to swirl in front of her eyes

Glorious paintings created themselves inside the mist
She knew she was looking into the future, and she was the artist
Poetry and songs began developing inside the mist 
Windows slammed shut as if by an invisible hand, startling her

Shaddah was alone in the dark, staring into a mirror like elixir
Her hopes and dreams and wishes were all here
Parading around saucily, daring her to be herself
Was she up to the challenge? A whisper told her she was ready.

• Short Spidery Poems
• Famous Spidery Poems
• Best Spidery Poems
• Read Spidery Poems
• Long Spidery Poems
• Spidery Quotes