Spiders
Is the spider a monster in miniature?
His web is a cruel stair, to be sure,
Designed artfully, cunningly placed,
A delicate trap, carefully spun
To bind the fly (innocent or unaware)
In a net as strong as a chain or a gun.
There are far more spiders than the man in the street
supposes
And the philosopher-king imagines, let alone knows!
There are six hundred kinds of spiders and each one
Differs in kind and in unkindness.
In variety of behavior spiders are unrivalled:
The fat garden spider sits motionless, amidst or at the heart
Of the orb of its web: other kinds run,
Scuttling across the floor, falling into bathtubs,
Trapped in the path of its own wrath, by overconfidence
drowned and undone.
Other kinds - more and more kinds under the stars and
the sun -
Are carnivores: all are relentless, ruthless
Enemies of insects. Their methods of getting food
Are unconventional, numerous, various and sometimes
hilarious:
Some spiders spin webs as beautiful
As Japanese drawings, intricate as clocks, strong as rocks:
Others construct traps which consist only
Of two sticky and tricky threads. Yet this ambush is enough
To bind and chain a crawling ant for long
enough:
The famished spider feels the vibration
Which transforms patience into sensation and satiation.
The handsome wolf spider moves suddenly freely and relies
Upon lightning suddenness, stealth and surprise,
Possessing accurate eyes, pouncing upon his victim with the
speed of surmise.
Courtship is dangerous: there are just as many elaborate
and endless techniques and varieties
As characterize the wooing of more analytic, more
introspective beings: Sometimes the male
Arrives with the gift of a freshly caught fly.
Sometimes he ties down the female, when she is frail,
With deft strokes and quick maneuvres and threads of silk:
But courtship and wooing, whatever their form, are
informed
By extreme caution, prudence, and calculation,
For the female spider, lazier and fiercer than the male
suitor,
May make a meal of him if she does not feel in the same
mood, or if her appetite
Consumes her far more than the revelation of love's
consummation.
Here among spiders, as in the higher forms of nature,
The male runs a terrifying risk when he goes seeking for
the bounty of beautiful Alma Magna Mater:
Yet clearly and truly he must seek and find his mate and
match like every other living creature!
poem by Delmore Schwartz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Spiders In The Night
Spiders in the night
Creeping round the walls
Now you'll feel him
Crawling over you
Creepy crawly things
Filling up your bed
Soon you'll feel him
Crawling through your brains
You think he's there
Beware his bite
But when you look
The spider's not in sight
Spiders reappear
Taking peoples names
Everything is taken down insane
There's no way out
And there's no key
But here's a clue
The spider's really me
You're written in his book
The spider won't forget
You won't forget
The spiders in the night
The end is going night
Itsy witsy friends
The spiders disappearing from the night
You think he's gone
You think he's dead
There's no escape
The spiders in your head
All the spiders in the night
All the spiders in the night
All the spiders in the night
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne from Bark At The Moon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Nicklin’s Torment
I woke up in a cold sweat
and turned on the light.
A shadow was moving over me,
cast by a spider of the night.
By the time I’d blinked
it’d vanished from view,
but then I saw a larger one,
followed by another two.
I closed my eyes for a moment
hoping they would disappear.
When I slowly reopened them
the bedroom was spider clear.
With my hand I mopped my brow
and then saw several more,
they were crawling on the ceiling
and marching across the floor.
I told myself that I was dreaming
or suffering from withdrawal,
but that didn’t stop the spiders
from crawling up the wall.
Sweat dripping from my brow
was stinging in my eyes.
Spiders were now on my bed
at my feet and on my thighs.
The whole room was full of spiders,
on the ceiling, walls, and floor.
My bed was covered and so was I.
I screamed stop! But out came even more.
Spiders crawling on top of spiders,
in my mouth, nose and ears,
their scary eyes staring into mine,
I was choking with utter fear.
I tried in vain to fight them off,
but my hand didn’t move a one.
I must have blacked out just then,
when I awoke they had all gone.
Things are becoming better now
and the spiders are getting less.
I’m told they’ll eventually go for good,
along with my shakes, thirst, and mess.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spiderman
Spider man, spider man
Does whatever a spider can
Spins a web any size
Catches thieves just like flies
Look out!
There comes the spider man
Is he strong?
Listen, bud
Hes got radioactive blood
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look overhead
Hey, there!
There goes the spider man
In the chill of the night
At the scene of a crime
Like a streak of light
He arrives just in time
Spider man, spider man
Friendly neighborhood spider man
Wealth and fame
Hes ignorant
Action is his reward
Look out!
Here comes the spider man
To him, lifes a big bang up
Whenever theres a hang up
Youll find the spider man.
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Learn From The Spider
learn from the spider
he knows the value of patience
for even how long he waits for a prey
he never complain
not so for humans
most steal what they need
robbed banks kill others
to suit their greed
others use their beauty their charms
to become somebody
then afterall runaway
breaking hearts without pity
learn from the spider.
learn from the spider
the value of industry
he never stops to spin and spin
until he is through
with its beautiful web
where he lies down and waits for a prey
not with humans
some do not love to work
they beg from others
they disguise as binds
they pretend they have nothig
and beg for alms
in front of synagoge
on hot, busy streets
learn from the spider
not from humans
fr spiders do not pretend
human does
poem by Villiamor Calventas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Spider and the Ghost of the Fly
Once I loved a spider
When I was born a fly,
A velvet-footed spider
With a gown of rainbow-dye.
She ate my wings and gloated.
She bound me with a hair.
She drove me to her parlor
Above her winding stair.
To educate young spiders
She took me all apart.
My ghost came back to haunt her.
I saw her eat my heart.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Night Worker
A spider spun his web all night
and waited patiently.
A fly had circled all the morn
and buzzed there cautiously.
The spider watched and stayed so still.
No movement did he make.
And by and by the fly descended
and landed wide-awake.
He spotted the spider and tried his best
to escape the sticky trap.
The spider watched and slowly moved
and the fly with his handicap
became the bait inside the web
that the spider made at night.
The spider had his breakfast early
in the morning light.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spider Silk
Its lining is that of silk,
Like a from a spider,
For it their spiders are webbing
To determine for the workers to liven their salary.
To test an exam for the student,
Who lightens the silk for the dress he was given
By the tailor.
He exchanged the silk of a spider for its spit.
Spit has venom.
Student is dead from silk.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Foiled by beauty for M'lady Sally plumb
A spider web bedecked with dew.
The early morning sun shines through.
Creates a tapestry of light.
A work of art in its own right.
Because the sparkling dew negates.
The spider webs efficiency.
Until the sun evaporates
the morning dew sufficiently
The spider must wait patiently
until at last she breaks her fast
Flies tangled inextricably
in the sticky threads she cast.
The spider builds instinctively.
A trap we aren’t supposed to see.
As long as it is visible
It’s totally impossible.
For the silken trap to do
(It is designed to be unseen)
The task it is intended to.
But for the dew it would have been.
Although it’s pleasing to our eyes
We know it isn’t meant to be
It’s obvious to passing flies
who can avoid it easily.
The hungry spider would prefer
to do without the morning dew.
Which seems intent to deprive her
of fat flies which are her due.
The spider’s loss is our gain
We see the transient beauty.
Which we may never see again.
If only temporarily.
The spider web bedecked with dew
To us a source of great delight
Created each morning anew
by dew drops reflecting sun light.
Although the spider breakfasts late.
There’s little doubt she will survive.
I’m sure she will appreciate
her breakfast when it does arrive.
Tuesday,08 March 2011
http.blog.myspace.com poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
z-Octogans and Revelation
I see the intricacies there
octagons and fractals;
web designs
varying.
Tensile steel it is said
characterize
the spider's web;
its strong.
At the corner of this beauty-ville
the spider lies
awaiting the kill
here death and beauty
mix
in darken night.
I can shake the cobwebs
from my head
but where in there
does my spider live?
Do the brain's spider webs
hide and reveal too
human spider kills?
How else to explain
the beauty the brain presents
and in that same brain
a killer spider lives.
So walk thee into the night
and as you brush aside that
spider web
or admire the tensile delicates
its beauty presents
understand too there lies
mayhem
and Revelation's Vision.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lonely Spider
The lonely spider reaches out
For what, you might ask?
If not to spin his web then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider calls out
For what, you might ask?
If not for his mate then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider waits
For what, you might ask?
If not for his food then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
'A spider doesn't have feelings! '
How should you know?
'A spider isn't that smart! '
That could be true.
'A spider can never have a real identity! '
And neither could you, or any of us
But we try to find one even if we're not looking
And thats our life... after which we die
What have we done with our life up until then?
Either we've thrown it away, gave it up, wrecked it, lived it up to the fullest, took it for granted, or got far in it.
We still had one.
It's up to us what we shall do with it
Just like the lonely spider
Who will probably just end up on the bottom of your shoe anyways
poem by Andreanna Atkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0232 That spider
I'm still waiting for an answer:
does that spider on the hedge
just do what spiders do;
or does (he, she, it) think?
Is it just a robot, programmed
by a pretty skilful God?
In which case you could say
God does its thinking for it
which is surely even more impressive
considering the number of spiders
and other species. Like us.
So where does that leave us?
On our knees
with a lot more questions.
And don't tell me it's evolution -
who made the laws of evolution, then?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spider web
There’s a spider web
of which parts got on your hair
and you are alarmed by it
and I take fine silk from your hair
while you look big eyed at me
and your lips are open
as if you are gasping for breath.
The wind blows a branch
whipping up and down,
but it’s unnoticed
by us both.
Your eyes are caught by the spider web
on which two spiders
are rocking in the wind
and I am caught,
with the look in your golden eyes
and your open lips that are inviting
and a small leave hanging on your cheek.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Website, spider style
Do spiders think? or simply learn
without a thought (well, lucky them)
by observation, as great scientists?
Does Nature do it all without a 'thought',
the spider just some robot, programmed thus?
The spider which the other day
built daring, acrobatic, gossamer bridge
across the path a guy-lined full six feet
so that to reach the gate, I had to genuflect
as if in some most holy church's aisle,
That bridge of San Luis Rey, already doomed
to break - the postman, paper boy, the milk -
I watched while seated in the sun for hours;
and as I watched, grew humbler by the minute;
myself the smaller in respect, the spider greater;
my lunch was cooking; the spider awaited (hers?) :
and we grew closer, in some unknown place in mind.
Today, a small, great miracle
of nature - who may be
beyond miracles; or yet bound in a web of law:
Neatly - thoughtfully? -
the web was now aligned
along the hedge of neighbours and ourselves.
And I was humbled by knowing nothing
worth a spider's web.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
News From Hank
Have recieved disturbing letter
From Hank
As follows:
Dear All
Misfortune has struck
Terrible blow
Fell asleep on container lorry
I am in Hamburg
German spiders not friendly to Brits
I fear racism is rife here
Have tried to blend in
But it’s hard to march with eight legs
Met a Frenchy in the Reeperbahn
Helps out in a transvestite bar
Only safe place he said
Whore’s and spiders
They don’t care
If you march or scuttle
Sooner or later the degradation has you
Dragging yourself around
On your knees
Hard for a spider
I shouldn’t end like this
Have tried to leave
But German drivers are hot on stow aways
I pointed out I’m only a spider
They snorted
Spiders, Albanians
They’ve all got the same sorry story
Bottom line
The Euro is the Euro to Germans
Please send fare
If not send cyanide tablet
They’ll get me soon
Here, they have no apathy towards foreigners
And I fear I’d crack under pressure
Or Jack boots
Love Hank
We’ve sent the fare of course.
poem by Nicolette Turner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Boris The Spider
Look, hes crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now hes up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Now hes dropped on to the floor
Heading for the bedroom door
Maybe hes as scared as me
Wheres he gone now, I cant see
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesnt seem to move at all
Perhaps hes dead, Ill just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Hes come to a sticky end
Dont think he will ever mend
Never more will he crawl round
Hes embedded in the ground
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Spider
Spider crawling, on the wall
I see him and he, sees it all...
And he sees it all
I fell down in that lazy place,
Where the english language cant - penetrate and i
Saw your mouth moving - just forget it and lie here with me
Maybe we should just, climb under the sheets
Where the words they dont get in the way
We were wondering, if you recall
Is this the end of it - end of everything
We were wondering, wonder
Spider crawling - in my left ear
Has a message I - want you to hear
Hope youre happy - found what youre looking for
Do you miss me, miss me at all?
Spider tells me, saw you yesterday
With somebody new - what can I say?
What can i...
Spider crawling, I crawl with him -
We go everywhere, we see everything
We are falling, we are falling, falling to nowhere
Hope youre happy - found what youre looking for
Do you miss me, miss me at all?
Spider crawling, spider crawling, spider crawling...
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What We Should Have Forgotten
there is a spider
in the vortex of
my mind
it dwells there
and every
day and every night
it is weaving
from its mouth
its food
its choice of words
a house
of poems
a kingdom
of images
where i shall live
where you shall
read
where you can become
another
figment of
some imaginations
there is another spider
in the vortex of your
mind
that weaves that hunger
that thirst
that longing
that feeling of imperfection
its moving
like a pendulum
it is revolving like a planet
to an eternal
circumlocution
these are the spiders in our
minds
that make us
all
human
always missing something
always remembering
what we should have forgotten.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flying Spiders
Shhhh. Can you hear it?
Spinning all around us
Regaling and astounding thus
With acts of human kindness
That equally malign us
Stare into a spider's web
Captured in the neural ebb
A milky way of silken thread
With lines throughout the kingdom spread
Wait for the wedding day
Descend from the mountain tops
On silver strands of wire
Fly the spiders in the wind
You'll come running for them
You'll come running far and wide
You'll come running for them
You'll come running for a woven
Glimpse of what you are inside
Gave up when the dogma died
An act of faith personified
The spider binds the groom and bride
Their isolation nullified
Dangling from the usher's nose
The mother in law, her fancy clothes
The orchestra in puppet rows
The notes spun from viola bows
Oh, my sense of wonder
Nearly fills this body cage
A web of flesh and fibre
And a timeless sense of age
Wait for the wedding day
Descend from the mountain tops
On silver strands of wire
Fly the spiders in the wind
Open up your eyes and then
You will see what defines us when
Spinning all around us
Regaling and astounding thus
Captured in the neural ebb
And strangled in the spider's web.
poem by Steven Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Spider's Web
The spider weaves a web so it can catch its prey
wherever it is convenient to take its hunger away.
An intricate net so finely built yet strong to withhold
all those creatures of nature that get caught in its fold.
The spider knows it will most likely do its job well
and so in the course of the day only time will tell.
It is only when something bigger comes along the way
that the web will break and from its foundations stray.
It’s made to withstand the elements of wind, rain or shine
though it appears in structure to be very delicate and fine.
It never ceases to amaze me with what precision it is made
the work of a skilled artist and product of non-human trade.
It’s made of the same basic material as the silk of the worm
which the spider spins out of its body but is sticky and firm.
The purpose behind the two though has a different motive
being to the both of them uniquely characteristic or native.
I wouldn’t like to be one of those creatures caught in the web
struggling desperately to get away and feeling its own life ebb.
The length and trouble some creatures go to in life to survive
is part of the drama that goes on in nature to keep them alive.
The spider’s web hangs securely moving gently with the breeze
and is fastened onto stationary objects that support it with ease.
Its creator waits patiently at the centre for the right time to come
when the web gives signs that food has arrived again hmm…yum.
If you then happen to see a spider’s web that’s along your way
don’t go and deliberately pull it down as it is a crime I must say.
Unless abandoned or an interference let it catch the spider’s main feed
which is based on its natural instinct of survival and not that of greed.
poem by George Krokos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Noiseless Patient Spider Of Walt
after reading walt's poem
on the noiseless patient spider i,
tried to verify it outside, i,
stepped out the door and sought
that spider
or any spider for that matter and i,
found one
hanging
motionless on its web
between the jack fruit tree and
the wall of the tamarind
and with my camera i began
clicking
i, want to catch what
is noiseless, and patient
and motionless
i, must, have been too careless
or impatient
when i fed the shot in my pc
the patience cannot be seen
the spider
even
is missing.l
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!