A flimsy cobweb
I see a spider weaves its tiny network in between the twigs in the garden.
And I thought If I am an insect,
Then I could have rush into your mesh
And swing until a twilight sleep.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
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
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Bed
The spider weaves silk for its web;
birds gather twigs to make their bed.
We just go down to the furniture store
and pick whatever we choose.
Dogs and Cats curl up on a matt
making sure they hog the fire
while it seems we sit a mile away
and in the cold, shiver.
22 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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To A Silvereye
I see you almost every day you fly from tree to tree
And I envy you your happiness for you are wholly free
You tiny insect eating bird in olive fawn and gray
And I feel glad so very glad to see you every day.
No boss to order you around to tell you what to do
Wish you were me dear tiny bird and wish that I were you
For you have freedom in your wings the freedom of the sky
And I envy you your happiness dear tiny silvereye.
On garden tree and green hedgerow close to the homes of men
I see you almost every day you and your tiny kin
From garden tree to garden tree and to and fro you wing
And midst the leaves the sunlit leaves you preen and chirp and sing.
I see you almost every day from tree to tree you fly
And I envy you your happiness the freedom of the sky
And I've a wish a secret wish when my turn come to die
That I will come to life again a tiny silvereye.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Spider
'OH, look at that great ugly spider!' said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
''Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. '
'Indeed,' said her mother, 'I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
'But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
'For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
'Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
'And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. '
poem by Ann Taylor
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My Garden Fair
Flowers are blooming in
my garden fair. Their
sweet perfume fills the
air. My Garden fair is
beautiful to see., with all
its glory surrounding me.
My garden fair is romantic
and bright, and so redeeming
in sunlight where song birds
nestle in the trees, and sing
with each flowing breeze.
My garden fair is a glorious
sight, that I rush to greet
at twilight my garden fair is
most supreme with such lovely
enchanting scenes.
poem by Dr. Janice Marie Murrell
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Spiders
Like a spider
You weave and intricate web
Hoping to catch an unsuspecting insect
It's absolutely perfect
You wouldn't know you were caught in one
Until the spider injects it's poison
You were painstakingly careful
And I flew right in
I won't ever make the same mistake again
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Spider
"Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. "
"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
"For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
"And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "
poem by Jane Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Spider
Spider, Spider, weaving web-
Fine and silky, that can’t ebb;
What immortal Hand did give,
Engineering feet to live!
Swift legs moving on fine threads:
Insect prey finally dreads;
What finesse involves your act,
Smothering preys with great tact!
Gossamer-mesh baiting prey:
Caught in surprising, a way;
Wound by silken threads, so fast,
Die insects spun, quite aghast!
Thready sensors, zig-zag laid,
Helping hunter and to aid;
Moving majestically,
Howev’r strong the wind, may be.
What a cute beast? What a frame?
What made Adam give this name?
What gentleness? What great speed?
Catching prey with deadly greed!
Victor always in pinning
Lethally prey by spinning;
What superb brain, God-given,
Watching eyes, agile-driven!
Spider, Spider, weaving web-
Fine and silky, that can’t ebb;
What immortal Hand did give,
Engineering feet to live!
Written after William Blake’s, ‘The Tyger’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-6-2008
poem by John Celes
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Insect
Insect.
On my blue lined writing pad a tiny insect walks,
it appears lost and hesitates before crossing a line,
lost in this vast wilderness of the unwritten.
I try to blow it off the paper, but somehow glues
itself to the paper and will not budge.
I cannot touch it tiny as it is I will surely squash it.
Nothing I can do for now, leave it to its own devise,
go watch TV. When I returned it has gone, a sheet
of paper with nothing written on is a lonely place
and has no story to tell.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Sexy Ida (Part I)
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
Don't try your love on sexy Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
She's got this long black hair, it's a hangin' on down her back
Long black pretty legs and she walks just like a cat
Hypnotic eyes and a stacked up love sack
She not only wants your love
She wants your life after that...don't do it
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
Said you better not try it
Don't try your love on sexy Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
She's got a king sized bed with satin sheets of love
And you'll never wanna leave, no
The web of love she weaves...but I'll tell you
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
You better not try it
Don't try your love on sexy Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
You gotta beware of sexy Ida
'Cause she tries to look so sweet and kind
But her looks can be deceivin'
'Cause her love is like strychnine
So don't give your love now
So don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
Better not give your love to Ida
Don't try your love on sex Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
No, don't you give your love
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider...
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Hand In Mine
I am remembering
Blue sunny sky dragonfly days
When you would laugh and cry
and ask me why, why
Everything that is was and ever will be
Wonder reflected in azure eyes
I would pick you up and swing you around
Your feet brushing the grass lightly til we fell down
Laughing and giggling
Your tiny hands unable to grasp
The meaning behind the world
And I enjoying the company
Of someone so new
Now you are older
Yesterday you lied to me
Of course, I believed you until you smirked
I didn’t know you could lie
I can’t swing you around anymore
The days rush by and I grasp for your tiny hand
Only to discover that it’s bigger than mine
I watch the dragonflies alone
And the sky, the sky is dark
You walk beside me at my level
With eyes that belie knowledge
Your why has become a rhetorical question
I call you the thirty year old teenager
Like mom once called me
Except with more irony
You ask me why I'm crying
I'd tell you if I could
poem by Ennis Aimirgin
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O' Violence In The Mind Of Spinsters!
A tiny insect bite,
On the slender foot
Of adolescent girl!
Her feet are soft like petal,
The pain is so severe,
She gets lot of tears!
Soft nature in her disappears,
Smashed the insect to smears,
O' Violence in the mind of spinsters!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worldwide Web Of Mind
The spider with which, with whom,
I share the sunshine of these late summer days
and the front garden – though in truth,
the silver filigree denies me two-thirds of it,
so broad the span of this ambitious engineer –
the spider which or who has grown so large
that its claws are some rapacious hawk in miniature,
almost scary in their taloned, threatening curve,
and which yesterday sat immobile in the centre of its web
either sleeping, or awaiting, or perhaps both,
is not there today; and I recall that yesterday
it had a silvery bag attached to it, which now I guess
could be some exquisite womb worn like a jewelled pride
which needs no protection..the web’s undamaged
so surely no marauding bird has pecked the spider
from the undamaged centre of this web?
Where has the spider chosen, for its special day,
Its birthing place, its private ward –
and does it have its huge emotions in miniature,
its pride, its special love, around that tiny thing?
There is no clue; the guy-ropes of its web are silent.
Will I see it in the next few days
teaching its baby all its circus tricks,
abseil, swing, launch in the wind to far-off unknown lands?
Or is it true that, having borne a little brood,
this creature, so magniificent,
gives its life to them, to c arry on the silken line?
does it know that sacrifice it makes
which is as noble as that of any man?
and will its brood also carry in their blood
a memory, inherited, that there,
across the front garden, six feet from East to West,
that silken line their mother made -
their only inheritance from her, apart from life itself,
awaits their darning needle?
I inspect carefully the web, as one might inspect
and read the menu for some blind lunching friend;
amused a little, embarrassed a little, solemn a little,
as the Creation’s relative dimensions
shrink, expand, draw me into the web of universal mind;
a filigree humility; a life not owned but shared.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Along Came a Spider
Three small children played under the trees,
giggling as the crimson leaves
floated down onto their soft, innocent hands.
They ran about after eacher other
until they collapsed on the roots
holding the forest together
and their breath came out as a flutter,
their giggles came out in bursts,
and their hair stuck to moist skin.
They were tired.
They decided to go hom for their supper,
as they knew that their mothers would worry.
But, along came a spider.
This spider was no monster.
It was no towering beast coming
to attack the children. To do them harm.
It simply scurried past them,
and somewhere in their human nature,
the children were told to follow.
The children did as they were told.
To a feast the children came, following this spider,
and grinned at a tiny table set for a hundred-
each guest sat in his chair.
Their friend, the spider, took his seat and awaited
his applause, for he had brought,
as the party knew,
their dinner, fresh and soft.
And so the insects climbed the children;
they giggle as the tiny feet
caressed their untainted skin,
and the children ran in circles
with their new tiny friends,
until the insects could hold on no longer
and the children were safe at home.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Swing! Swing!
Come on baby let's swing,
it's Sunday with bring bring,
feelings of o key, and refreshing,
twisting our body, and dancing.
just swing like this,
and swing like that.
forget your stress even once,
reduce your worries and dance,
gather your strength to break a fance,
come on baby it's our chance.
swing to avoid confusion,
swing to rebuild your brain,
swing for your creation,
just swing for your talent.
for a week your working,
with much concentration,
stop that for enjoying,
let's dance for the medicine.
i say swing swing swing
come on and swing swing
poem by Dickson Mseti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red sun, black air, tiny lights of the city
Red glowing sun, fire, flames, hot spittles
To the tiny lights of the city, this city of sin,
Black air that we breathe, smoke rising from
Our hair, warmth from our armpits, sighs and
Quivers, the longings that never stop, and the
Rain that fall heavily today, our thirsts still
Thirsting, our hungers still hungry, our instincts
For destruction coming out from our throats and
Hands, we can do more than what Is expected
We break some twigs, we pluck some flowers
We never thought about the problem of how
To reconnect twigs and flowers and scents
God creates, and we are so hardheaded
Ours is always to destroy and then leave.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Once Was A Tiny Girl
there once
was a tiny girl
who grew up
in this world
there once
was a tiny girl
who cried herself to sleep
every night
there once
was a tiny girl
who wore the same dress
every day
there once
was a tiny girl
who wouldn't go out
and play
there once
was a tiny girl
who would bleed and have bruises
from head to toe
there once
was a tiny girl
who begged
daddy, please no more
there once
was a tiny girl
who the angels
heard her prayer
they came down
and took her
to a better place
where that tiny girl
found love
instead of hate
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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Swing It
(jon-jon/babyface/r.phillips)
Oh yeah
Hey hey
I wanna know, do you have style?
The kind of style that makes a woman want to lose her mind
And I wanna know when you make it worth my time
Will it be like all the rest wont give you best, just fall behind
coz I wanna know what turns you on
And you keep the loving strong
coz with me you dont have to ask
coz Im the woman thatll give you what you need
Tell me
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Theres not a thing that I wont do
Once I find a man that gives me love its kind of cool
Take any night by candlelight
I wanna be to you the one you never had before
coz I wanna know what turns you on
And you keep the loving strong
coz with me you dont have to ask
coz Im the woman thatll give you what you need
Tell me, tell me, tell me
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, come on
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think you can swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
coz I wanna know what turns you on
Oh baby, keep it strong
You dont have to ask
coz Im the woman thatll give you what you need
Tell me
Swing it, swing it, swing it with me
Come on baby
Swing it, swing it, swing it with me
Do you, do you
Swing it, swing it, swing it with me
Do you
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Do you swing it
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Do you think that you could swing a little time with me
Swing it, swing it
Ill be all that you need
Swing it, swing it, swing it
You can do it
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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