In June, I saw
A beautiful white spider
On my backpack.
It was eating a mosquito.
I will write a poem
About it later.
The sun was sneaking
Through an open wound
In the door
Illuminating in perfection
The luxurious crafted web
Each finely woven
Thread was glistening
Under the glow of brilliance
Showcasing the ingenious
Creativity of the eight legged
Totem of mystery and receptivity
Her venom’s love potion,
her bite’s in slow motion
as her arms wrap around me
like webs carefully woven.
There’s art to her eyes,
as red as the blood that
strings down from my neck.
I got caught red-handed
in her gaze, in her web,
in her heart, in her chest
and now I can’t get out.
Seeing a spider in my room isn't scary.
It's scary when it
Anyone else with me on this one?
As we laid in bed
I pulled you closer and guided your arms around my body
for you to hold me like you once did before.
You didn’t resist but I could feel that the warmth between us,
that deep connection where our hearts beat together
had long since left.
In that moment I became desperate for you again.
I went to the bathroom and peed,
there were clothes all over the floor
and a spider tried to spindle its web in my hair
to which I had a fierce panic attack
especially when I saw the spider after frantically trying to dust it out of my hair
and off of me.
I returned to the bed and the other guy had left
so it was just me and you
and I took my shirt off and you laughed at how hard my ******* were and tweaked one of them.
I asked if you had plans for the day and you said no
and I said I wanted to spend time with you
because it was a nice day out
and you agreed
and I said that I wanted to talk
to which once again you seemed open to but less than interested in and I found myself back-peddling as to not frighten you away
but I knew that it was too late
and i could feel you realize that whatever hopes that you had of us being just friends
had turned into something you had to protect yourself from.
I slid over on top of you to get close and to smell you again
and you pushed me off
and I rolled off the side of the bed
onto the floor and laid there, cartoonishly, unable to move,
paralyzed in knowing that I would never be able to get close to you again
and I woke up thinking about how much
I love you.
There is something so calming
About the spiders spinning web.
Something so comforting,
A song sung by the dead.
Hear it wallow in the distance
Like an unforgiven tune.
Sung by the rivers daughter,
The beauteous sunset muse.
Bask in the moonlit waters
Barely but blessed by shining sun.
Hold to your heavn'ly quarters,
The likes of which shall come undone.
For if you catch the spider spindle
You are likely to be safe.
In other wares, their finer fares
In absence, stay awake.
I speak not for the Titan,
Or God nor Goddess alike.
I speak not for the tongue
Of the mumbling friars might.
For Alas my hearers hear this plea,
Beware the nymph of sophistry
Itsy bitsy spider
Her heart is breaking inside her
Chandeliers turn into webbed hanging rope
Inflicting toxins that destroy hope
Eight eyes eight years two parents one parent
Stings from his death are still inherent
Restricts bruise brown skin with black lashes
Knives give out desires to mark with red slashes
Eight legs eight birthdays two paths one destiny
The memories make her head go really spinny
Poison has covered her whole shaking yet still body
And now she is set to succumb to what she has embody
Something for my final art project that I decided to upload here. For someone who doesn't like spiders, I sure make a lot of poems with them. This is self-reflective..."His death" is not referring to anything romantic, btw. Sadly referring to my dad. RIP 3/2/11 :(
once you're weaved into the net
struggeling like a desperate fly
at the mercy of a starving spider
cutting the silk
is all that's left to do