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Carlo C Gomez Feb 27
A snakepit, a lion’s den,
a second-hand shark cage.
The Big Apple, the Little Rascals,
everything after the Victorian Age.
These things scare me on sight,
but not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.

The Trix Rabbit with a gun,
The Dodgers winning a World Series.
Parallel parking with Mark Hamill,
Sesame Street conspiracy theories.
These things make me shake at night,
but not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.

The White Album, the Black Plague,
toenail clippers, salad bars and Disneyland.
The Richter scale, the Mendoza line,
Any and every last teenage boy band.
These things give me such a fright,
but not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.

Television reruns of H.R. Pufnstuf,
An opened jar of Miracle Whip.
The names of Frank Zappa’s kids,
vacationing on a Carnival cruise ship.
These things horrify me alright,
but still not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.
An older poem.
If you have ever seen the movie 'Alien,' you might understand what I mean.
I fear you,
Always have,
Yet I love you,
How is that?,

you violated me,
I was young,
You remember?
What you've done?,

Saw you lately,
Felt the same,
But I'll always,
Know your name,

Winter, dark days,
Many names,
Doesn't matter,
They're all the same,

I have solace,
Take a note,
Someone loves me,
He's my coat,

He's my blanket,
Keeps me safe,
You can do one,
See my face?....

(C) 13/01/2020
Horrid memories of extreme weather, but I have a lovely focus now.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Larry had an odd phobia:
The fear of backing into things.

Jenny had a perplexing proclivity:
She only moved counter-clockwise.

How they met is anyone's guess.
Love covered all the rest.
True love means excepting each other's peculiar sundries
Tamara Lynn Nov 2019
Walk into the room
Mind swirling
Hands like ice
Do they like me
Shouldn’t assume
Can’t breathe
Shake in the knees
Crawling in my own skin
Want to speak
Where do I begin
Deep breath
Throat tight
Words don’t come out right
Teeth clenching
Heart wrenching
Tongue tied
Mouth dry
Cover it up
Don’t let it show
Put on a brave face
Hope they don’t know
Relief when the moment has passed
Although surely it won’t be the last
Hanna C S Jul 2019
My love,
You wove words into wool;
A spider, you strung sentences into works of art;
While I, blind and blundering,
Tried to find solace in the stitching;
Thread webs into safety nets.
Yet there was perhaps a fatal flaw I forgot to mention:
I don’t know how to weave,
And I’m really ******* scared of spiders,
And time, and loss and love and you and me and most other things.
(But mostly spiders - like heart-stopping-body-spasming scared)

So, my pretty Baby blue,
I wish you and I, a doomed arachnophobe,
Could exist between the lines of love poems,
Could spend mornings in bed with tea from our favourite mugs,
Could spend nights walking home from our favourite pubs,
Could be everything I wished for us.
But life catches on and time catches up,
So for now I’ll dip my tongue in sugared coatings,
And try to lick your wounds clean.
I’ll etch your voice into vinyl, and put your track on repeat,
An album of day-to-day complaints;
Awkward stories; and the reasons you’re always right.
I’ll sit content, and sway to the rhythm of your tune,
And watch you, my friend, my baby blue,
Move, and bloom, to the unique beat of you.
And maybe you in turn, if you wouldn’t mind of course,
Could teach me not to run from spiders,
Like I always seem to do
Raven Jun 2019
Your peaceful walk is my anxiety.
Your camping grounds are where my nightmares take place.

What’s that?!
Oh, just a tree.

Your hiking trip causes me to cry.
What if we find something unwanted? Does that not make you want to leave?!

Why am I like this, you ask? I don’t know. Ask my Hylophobia.
Hylophobia=fear of forests, and I have it. It’s very common, actually. Like, I can go in a forest and stuff, but I’m still rather cautious.
The fear of everything

The fear of nothing
rei muto May 2019
homophobia and tranasphobia.
why are they called
if they are not a fear?
This is a short poem.
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