This is an ode for chicks who tough it,
About an empowered Little Miss Muffet,
Sitting alone there on her tuffet,
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her,
Or was he a predator?
What was he after her for?
So, she said to the spider,
Who sat down beside her,
"Rak off, hairy legs!
Don't even beg!
Less is more, less is more,
P.O.Q. , you naughty predator!"
And she ate her own curds and whey!
Empowering Miss Muffets these days,
Hopefully, us old bags do say......

In the calm still moonlit night
      she silently wove a silken tapestry -
          spinnerets spewing slender strands
      light as air but strong as Kevlar.

A silvery armature spanned the trail
    clinging to trunks and branches.
          Rappelling down from its pinnacle,
      she fixed radii to her deadly wheel.

Spiraling in from the outer ring
      she knitted her way to the center
          to await the tell-tale shudder
    of a fly or moth flown into her snare.

She took no note of the hiker
      paused alone on the trail -
          transfixed by the dew laden spiral
    shimmering in the rose-glow sun.

It mattered not to the spider
      that a man would find her work pleasing
          and it mattered not to the man
    that the web was not woven for art.

she reads meat
eyes in a meeting
persistent of the trysts of leather
her steady trap-door arose
in her deposition
the latitude of her nubile degrees
Procrastinates his step,
Subtly overdubbing the scrawny pallid ache
In the etch'd skin, her color-by-numbers comes undone.

Sitting in the dark, black silhouettes loom.
One of which dwells, familiar, barely seen.

Vast open space, barely lit, lies my doom
For those who wait for sustenance, span the gaps, unseen

The deepest fear, and least understood.
In the night, they wake, living as they should.
They've done nothing wrong,
But their presence lingers on
Even after they are gone.
Why cant i just be STRONG.

I'm TIRED of this fear of those whose darkness I intrude,
When all i want to do is be inside,
Instead I sit outside and stare, frozen in prelude
To the peace and comfort that i desire.

They don't know I'm here
And when they aren't i still know they are.
Around every tree
Spanning every yard.
When the sun is gone, how can i be sure?
That i wont become entangled in a fearful encounter.

I sleep outside those walls tonight

Tiny spider legs
My eyes are filled
With tiny spider legs, if I close them
Just enough.

Oceans can lay
Still, in the same eyes.

The days passed slowly in a drunken haze
As this sleepless delusion was set ablaze
My limbs weakened with the rising sun
While the spiders in my head began to run
Spinning webs beneath my sunken skin
Piercing my veins like deadly sin
Yet through it all my bones withstood
The war taking heed within falsehood
By words of Truth I found my sanction
Even as my spirit dies in such a fraction
And like the dead become living grass
My flesh will live again like sandy glass
But as for now this life consumes me
And I will work like the honey bee
Until the bitter taste on my tongue
Becomes the flavor of the purest young