Grace and poise
abounding.

Fear instilled
belated.

Lamented life
impassive.

Rationale in
liquidation.

A life without
proposal.

Death in all its
splendor.

Black Widow Spider.


Secrete your deceit, like a Black Widow Spider,
But I shall not become the husband you devour.
Your web I shall not become entombed in.
I have no wish to be mummified;
Do not try to keep me.


For you are wrong,
If you believe you are worthy of my love.
You’ve clearly become deranged, because of the drugs.
You’ve never even tried, to give me true love
And now I’ve simply had enough.


For my heart is huge and my love is endless,
Whilst your love is only ever temporary
And every promise you’ve made, you’ve broken it.


You say you’re flirtatious, you’re no longer a man eater,
But you sleep with any man who comes onto you
And you expect us to still be together?


Leave me now; go find all the ****** partners you want.
I shall go in search of my true love.
You can let them use your body, whilst you’re still young and easy,
But I need a woman, who is mature enough to get married.


She and I will have lots of ***, plus love and devotion,
Understanding, honesty, showing true emotions,
A closeness, a fondness, completely knowing each other,
Someone to hold hands with, someone to truly explore,
In every way imaginable.


And you my Black Widow Spider?
Well, occasionally you’ll go and get ******.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

The spider on the wall,
in the web of a fantasy,
spinning dreams of guile.
Spider is the black hole of my solar system –
a monstrous mass ready to warp me
in its delusion.

Light surpassed
darkened thoughts of deceit
like a flitting meteor.
On its many unseen wings
it sails faster than the meteor.

Light crashed into the spider
dozing in the web of hallucination.
Its barbed hairy legs
singed in the boiling bubble of light.

The light’s swift hands
pulled me out of the black hole,
diffused in me
it's springs of glory.
I became light’s soulmate
to birth more lights
to tame the black holes
of my solar system.

Spiders have embroidered
webs behind my eyes.
I am void,
a wreck,
a quivering lethargy.
Spiders play on their webs,
which are my webs,
as if strings on a violin,
and the sounds they make
are the only sentence
you hear me saying:
everything
is
fine.
But the spiders are hungry
so they eat my thoughts
as if flies trapped on webs.
My whole body is a concert hall
and the words echo through me.
They become catchy after a while,
as if a jingle on a commercial,
and some time after that,
I can stretch to all the corners
and edges of my body.
I can fill every space.
And I might as well
be starting to believe that
everything is going to be fine.

Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing,
Will they wake happy, with their faces all daft?
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.

Clamber over a set of eight legs, careful no tripping
over. Soon they will see which fly is their gift.
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.

"Which is mine?"  they spent the evening asking.
"You'll just have to wait and see", I laughed.
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.

On the edge of the web, fill each stocking
to the brim. Got to be quick and got to be swift.
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.

Soon they'll rise and the house will be clicking
with their pincers and not one unwrapped present left.
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.

Finish the Santa duty, time to start relaxing
ready for the morning when tensions have halved.
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.