The Arachnidan Araneide and the Musca DomesticaA Poem by Judy PoncebyIn collaboration with Ben Taylor, a fine word warrior :)As the fiery teardrop of evening Bursts upon the horizon, I weave my iron hammock, All eyes glittering in Ravenous anticipation. I and the shadows collude darkly-- Awaiting your arrival. Wending my way Through fruited garden In search of treasure I take without pardon. To land from aloft On warm steamy goo Tasting with delight This joyous poo. And once quite sated I move on To cooler climes This garden spawned. Glinting temptingly, My steely dinner plate Stretches limb To limb. And soon-- My bulbous stomach Churns in delight-- It is you that will be Stretched limb From limb. Buzzing about Out of the Sun, Feel the foreboding Dampening my fun. There's a vibe in the air That makes me shiver. Setting my hairs all quite a-quiver. For all the eye facets sitting in my head, I still miss the trap set out dead ahead. I can feel your approach-- A barely discernible thrumming That agitates the threads of my Handiwork. My mandibles quiver And drip In excitement while The winds soughs secretively Through the evening, Whispering you towards My gullet. Evasive maneuvers They have no effect. Tangled in this web, "Oh, What the Heck!" Wings rasping loudly Trying to break free, When suddenly I sense What could only be... My enemy most Arch Evil eyes a-glitter Racing down wires Oh, how he skitters. I laugh inwardly, Hungrily, As my supercilious stare Condescends upon you. Escape? The very thought insults me. Your frantic buzzes, Imploringly urgent, Evoke nothing from me. Implausible and impossible, Your continued survival is made Increasingly improbable As my constraints surround your Thrashing wings. How I struggle to be free As you come quite near Your fangs how they glitter How plump is your rear.
Feeling the terror deep in my being Wings wrapped fast In silken sheeting.
Quailing at the certainty With which you approach. And yet, a flicker of hope When shadows encroach.
An agitation of the wind, A vibration less susurrous Than that which the night Should betray, Causes me to freeze in Apprehension As my struggling supper Loses even the dregs of my attention, The faint glow of the night Is changed-- More swiftly than the Rasping of leather wings On a midnight silence Or the warm, mammalian Bite of all that the Darkness contains-- To the ubiquitous blackness Of nonexistence. As luck would have it My executioner has failed To finish me off, And so I must regale
My frenemies with a delightful tale Being saved by fate In moonlight pale.
Now, if only I were able To free myself from This quite dreadful mess Wound about me bum.... Bzzt. My consciousness Crushed to Confused How? I can't feel my I hear mumbling Thunder Nature's laugh Irony. © 2011 Judy PoncebyAuthor's Note
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7 Reviews Added on June 19, 2011 Last Updated on June 19, 2011 AuthorJudy PoncebySwanton, OHAboutI am me. Living life. Learning love. And laughing. A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom. – Robert Frost more..Writing
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