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
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Related quotes
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
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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
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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
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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
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Ghost Behind My Eyes
There is person living in my head
She comes to visit every night in bed
I fight the demon, but it just wont fall
The voices in my dungeon starting to call
The spiders dancing on the wall
Suicide of love we could have had it all
And it is you, you are the ghost behind my eyes
The ghost that tells me lies
The princess of the dark has made my mind home
My haunted head and her wont leave me alone
She dances on my heart with fire in my soul
I hate that feeling when Im loosing control
The spiders dancing on the wall
Suicide of love we could have had it all
And it is you, you are the ghost behind my eyes
The ghost that tells me lies
I wish to God that I could sleep
Again, oh peace again
And wake up from this nightmare
Free again
Free again, oh me again
There is a woman in my head
She comes to visit every night in bed
The spiders dancing on the wall
Suicide of love we could have had it all
And it is you, you are the ghost behind my eyes
You, you are the ghost behind my eyes
You, you are the ghost behind my eyes
Behind my eyes
The ghost behind my eyes
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0074 Spider spider...
Do spiders do what spiders do
with no alternative?
Or can they wake up one fine day
And think 'today I'll LIVE!
'I'll take the morning off today -
no repair work - (miss my lunch...) :
'then move my website far away
from that poetic bunch...'
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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
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Night Spiders Crawling
night spiders
crawling
crawling through
mind
encased
in black
satin
webs
deep
sleep
tra pped
drained
tread encased
in raw exhaustion
stung spun webs
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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To An Ex....
what we told them that we did
was all those games of catching spiders
rested in their spun webs on the trees
beside the mountain river
we we really did they knew so well
but how can we ever ever tell?
that what they knew was not all that happened
as it was something else more that what spiders are
on their transparent
webs of illusions upon those trees
that in the first place
never existed
what we had were more than words
and thoughts
and so how can we ever tell ourselves
truly
that we have already forgotten?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No spiders in the city
There was once a girl that had a scream,
Which was unbelievably extreme,
She caused many neighbours to blaspheme,
For when she'd see a spider she'd scream,
By chance she heard something a bird said,
It claimed that it had been underfed,
For it lived where spiders rarely tread,
The girl believed the words that were said,
She upped sticks and moved to the city,
Which left her neighbours far from teary,
Although she found urban life gritty,
She endured the days that were dreary,
For what she had heard proved to be true,
Which led to her screams being subdued,
But there were things that were not in view,
When she saw them she altered her mood,
She'd come to learn somethings were untrue,
Things such as hard work will see you through,
However if only but a few,
Certain childish beliefs turned out true,
Monsters do live underneath the bed,
The horrid creatures filled her with dread,
She felt with spiders she'd been misled,
The true horrors were under her bed,
It became too much for her to bear,
She hated the creatures living there,
They led her to a state of despair,
So she thought she'd go and live elsewhere,
She moved back home to the countryside,
Her neighbours of course did not abide,
But they need not have heavily sighed,
The girl didn't fear spiders when spied.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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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
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Never Empty
Do you ever muse what houses do
while you're at work, the kids at school,
how the traffic roars as it rolls on by
and the telephone rings with no reply.
The refrigerator sings its refrigerator tune
and the gas man calls in the afternoon.
How rain pours through that hole in the roof
and the ants infest all the children's shoes.
Have you ever thought on that dear folk,
when you're out all day and the front door's locked.
When the spiders dance and crickets chirp
with their clod hopper feet on the skirting boards,
making merriment while you're away,
assuming the house is empty all day.
Have you ever looked under old floor boards
where the mice all run when the cat's at play
and the spiders return at the break of day.
Only the house knows what goes on,
only its walls see the spiders run
and the crickets dance and the mice at play,
only the house when you're all away
except for the clock on the kitchen wall
with its heart ever beating the time of day.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Here By Your Side
When you feel so far away
Though youre close to everything
And the feeling of estrangements
Creeping up on spiders legs
Even in these days of wonder
Even in the age of faith
There are some who goin under
There are some who got it made
In the middle of the night
When the last of God has died
And the only thing youve got
Is the tictoc of the clock
Im here by your side
In these days full of wonder
So you passed so many years
In a labyrinth of traces
Running round and round they led
To no one but yourself..
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whatever
WHATEVER YOU,
WHATEVER I,
WHATEVER DREAM,
WHATEVER SONG,
WHATEVER HEALS, WHATEVER FEELS RIGHT.
WHATEVER UP,
WHATEVER DOWN,
WHATEVER GOD,
WHATEVER FIX,
WHATEVER NEED, WHATEVER I WANT.
AND ALL THE SPIDERS IN MY MIND,
ALL THE THINGS WE NEVER SAID.
MAYBE THE LAST DAY OF MY LIFE
WHEN I LOOK AT THE WORLD
THROUGH THE BLUE OF YOUR EYES.
WHATEVER PEACE,
WHATEVER WAR,
WHATEVER DOOR,
WHATEVER KISS,
WHATEVER HAPPENS WE ARE THE SPACEMAN.
(AND ALL THE SPIDERS IN MY MIND,
ALL THE THINGS WE NEVER SAID.
MAYBE THE LAST DAY OF MY LIFE
WHEN I LOOK AT THE WORLD
THROUGH THE BLUE OF YOUR EYES, (2x's)
THROUGH THE HOLE IN YOUR HEART. (1x))
song performed by by Zoe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Iron And Silk
Iron keeps dirty habits when united,
Followers of the metal shall be rewarded;
The contestant proves his worth,
After the judges and the judgement,
Before this nothing has a present.
Anarchy is housed by the intellectuals,
Intelligently the rules are spoken
And their moods are represented
By the organizations of the spiders.
Crawling about, sneaking towards
Their goal, and lifting their webs,
A reality has emerged of mounting
Pressure, often the windows are open.
Thoughts of the evening weave
Their ways towards the horizon,
But spiders wrongly imagine our
Difficulties.
Their iron is their silk, and we have strong
Iron, that wields not being spun,
Forever the roses have been in our wreaths,
And eternally the spots on the face
Are ignited.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Summers Garden Sanctuary...
..., Summers Garden Sanctuary...
The sun’s rays pierce thru the bathroom window
Mirrored reflections spill sunshine into the white bath,
A vast unescapable dry canyon to the two tiny baby spiders
Trapped in their quest for water having travelled from the heat
Of the inner roof via the ceiling fan grid,
The hot Australian sun prepares to cook the day a gentle hazy brown.
I Take a white tissue and moisten a corner with my tongue and place
It over the two tiny spiders, who are held for a moment,
I gently fold the tissue trapping my quarry.
I quickly take them out to the garden and place them with the flowers,
A flick to the tissue and the spiders are gone safe and sound
Two little lives saved today,
It’s funny a feel good syndrome fills my body.
NB A Gem of a Quote
'Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.'- Anne Herbert
poem by Ken e Hall
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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
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Glass & The Ghost Children
To the center of the earth
Or anywhere God decides
Full of fever pulling forth
We hear our call as all
To the center of the earth
As if written in
Dna is reaching out
To your frequency
I want to live
Dont want to die
I want to live
I want to try
All in prayer
Prayer in all
All are scared
Scared of all
Black rooms are calling
To men in leather coats
White labs are cooking up the silver ghost
The glass migrates under her translucent skin
And all the spiders wonder what weve got us in
All is you
You are all
All with you
You in all
I want to live
I dont want to die
I want to live
I want to try
So beats the final coda
Of a vintl storm
One more cherry cola to lift up her dead arms
A dream of sot focus sunsets filters thru the din
We are losing contact as she dials it in
She can hear glass calling
Or is it someone that looks like him
She eyes tv reflection and nods a knowing look
She says it doesnt matter
She never liked her looks
I have seen a thousand fractures
I have seen everything
Cause knowing is its own answer
Love something in a book
Theres not much left to ponder
Not much left to cook
As she counted the spiders
As they crawled up inside her
As she counted the spiders
As they crawled up inside her
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad Boys Running Wild
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine, herman rarebell
Out in the streets
The dogs are on the run
The cats are all in heart
Out in the streets
Snakes are all around you
Dirty rats are on their way
They control you and theyll make you play
Out in the night
Glaring eyes in darkness
Tigers wanna fight
Out in the night
Spiders all around you
Spinning webs and make you pray
Tie you up and you cant get away
Bad boys running wild
If you dont play along with their games
Bad boys running wild
And you better get out of their way
Out in the streets
The dogs are on the run
The cats are all in heat
Out in the night
Spiders all around you
Spinning webs and make you pray
Tie you up and you cant get away
Bad boys running wild
If you dont play along with their games
Bad boys running wild
And you better get out of their way
Bad boys running wild
If you dont play along with their games
Bad boys running wild
And you better get out of their way
Get out of their way
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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