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Nigdaw Mar 2022
he runs across the floor
eight legged little beastie
one of nature's nightmare tools
a necessary evil, clean-up module
I leave him alone, as much right as I
to this lonely landing in moonlight
Andrew Rueter Sep 2021
Kindred transformation
correlates experience
to my canidae companion
life is a pit bull husky mix
loyal roamer fierce friend
running through thorn bushes
in the hushed hilly countryside
unaware of speeding cars
and demonic dog catchers
populating the arachnid cityscape.

I chase a rabbit to said city
keeping my dog head with me
so I can only see in black and white
a transformative color palette
allowing an allowance for my breed
to take the maximum instead of its needs.
A dastardly deal is done in daylight
for spiders to be dogs
and dogs, spiders
splitting spoils
of both species syndicating society
by painfully punishing unfamiliar families.

Four legged frenzy in my feet fortifies me
from eight legged monsters in the street
slinging webs of concrete—
a wanderer's kennel terrifying terrarium
trapping wasps and butterflies
masticating maliciously
reproducing rapidly
trap door spiders create black widows
and envelope stray dogs in white cloaks.

My vigilance guides serpentine movement
strafing from treacherous entanglement
of the tarantula treaty offering silk
cocoons claimed to be for safety
at the price of my mobility.

I must return to the warm
glow that helps me see
even if that means
crawling through the sewers
and eating from the trash
to emerge from the thorn bushes
that tear off my jackal costume
as the sun cleanses my wounds
uncovering cloud counting capability
accumulating cumulus compatriots
and oak marchers waving green flags
showing they can prosper with tranquility
but these flags draw insects that eat contentedly
until there's enough ingesting in sects to draw spiders.
Jupiter Sep 2019
suspended in the air
creations of your own kind of flight

wispy strands protect and feed you
the weary that are trapped by your game

crawling and weaving,
flightless yet flying,
ever graceful,

the spider and his web.
spiders seem like they're flying because their webs are so translucent. kind of dreamy.
moon child Oct 2018
Grace and poise
abounding.

Fear instilled
belated.

Lamented life
impassive.

Rationale in
liquidation.

A life without
proposal.

Death in all its
splendor.
Inspired by Billie Eilish
Martin Narrod May 2017
Restless alphabet staggering in this mist, mischief and debauchery, until it gets closer to midnight, I'll keep my fingers flirting with the skirt sitting on my knees.

Lonely invaders, they've been, searching for the words inside of me, in my heart I've got my dictionary guarded with the strongest adjectives from my unspoken vocabulary. I'll keep my fingers flirting, it's about time to eat dessert, I'll have two servings of the girl sitting on my knees

And about this time of night, I try and survive, is this oblivion that I'm supposed to achieve? I smoke, drink, and trip until my spaceship begins to lift, then I set my transmission up to hyper-speed. There's lust in the air, and I've got dessert I won't share, a **** girl in a skirt, my fingers climbing towards the heaven between her knees.

Backwards ways, today is the last time. I can't begin to let my heart beat or else I'll lose control. I don't want to feel anything I've never known, I'd rather dream up reality than live something familiar my mind had once been exposed.

Loose leaf royalty, she might only be a princess on paper, but she rolls my joints while she takes turns at high speeds driving my Rolls-Royce Phantom stopping where my sidewalk ends.

Restless alphabet staggering in the mist, mischief and debauchery, until it gets closer to midnight, I'll keep my fingers flirting with the girl sitting on my knees.

She is weaponized, pre-exposed to the lurid and fantastic, she's fancy, fueled, and ready for sin. I've got the music blearing, something vampirical and scary, but it works when you'd rather avoid candy and just eat the living.

Today has been grave, I woke up sweating from a life-mare, heavy-petting last night, every time we go to bed. We unmade the sheets, she wrapped her tentacles around me, then she told me I'm her number one squeeze. I said, "Please bring me to pain, I promise I won't complain, don't untie me, but please leave me in one piece." I twisted and I shouted, as I climbed back up the water spout, to find the wetness hadn't come from the rain.

This tremendous magic had procured from such a habit, my fingers had turned into legs. I tried my hardest to keep my steps, but found I'd lost my grip, then she turned round me, smiled, and tore off my head.

I've kept my fingers flirting with her disasters, afterwards nothing happened at all, but I'm still hungry, I still might go dancing tonight, I love the eight step arachnid twist. Venomous squeeze, I know she'll come back for the rest of me, the body's even better than the head. But now I've woken up again, her legs wrapped tightly around my head, my eyes open enough to spot a spider crawling up my legs.
Kathleen M Apr 2015
It trembles on a pedestal of glass and sand
A single beam of light pierces through the emptiness to illuminate its shaking
Its face of silver mirror reflecting light that disappears into the void
Frost coats the edges in the most delicate web, it shimmers with every angle
What odd eyes scan the depths of this isolation
Endlessly black bottomless pupils searching tirelessly
Eyelashes echoing arachnid origins flutter, meet and part
Sharp angled cheeks cut through the stillness with ease
A stillness of the mouth makes a parting of lips rare and foreign

The eyes flutter closed
Arachnid lashes meeting and locking
The lips part
Soft sighing escapes
The lips craddling its birth

— The End —