I met a spider today, or maybe yesterday
The days seem like a blur.
He told me that he would spin a web, just for me,
whatever type of web I wanted.
I am afraid of him.
Fearful of everything about him.
His clever wit.
His personality.
His charm.
His beauty.
His thirst for flesh.
His hunger for blood.
He reminds me of the cliques I try to forget of high school,
Them and their meaninglessness.
The adorable geek, the jealous brutal jock, and the bank freak words could not explain,
three humans, chopped, diced, sliced, and mashed
Creating an eight legged enchanter, a siren for me.
His numerous eyes, portals to his soul, lure me like prey
Eight caramel gems causing a lightheadedness to spore.
Those many expressive orbs reveal a story, a tale
A reminisce of betrayal
A memory of love
A trail of brokenness
A streak of black and red of pained paint upon the spider’s intricate web of a life.
I met with this creature, every night for several nights, an on going masquerade.
We talked human things, we talked spider things.
We wished the impossible, that one of us could endure a metamorphosis to be alike.
Becoming so much more than mere companions with the arachnid was the death of me.
Unlike humans, spider’s have no heart, no soul, just an empty exoskeleton.
He spun a web for me,
Willingly I collapsed into it, my heart on his silver plate.
A contest entry
- Surrender by Co-Co-Cola.
1000 points, ended March 21, 2008, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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Again, you amaze me with your diction. Specifically in lines 11 and 12 I love your employment of the words "thirst" and "hunger" in opposite places to utilize their much more powerful connotations rather than their denotations. This causes most readers to look back, emphasizing their vivid presence even more. I also love how your language is just as ambiguous as your feelings seem to be for this spider. You use such perfect opposing imagery and phrasing that it would be doing this work an injustice to say it simply utilizes appropriate contradictory elements. The only thing left to say is that there is really too much to say to finish here without analyzing into the night. I can just cut it off by saying again that your work has left me feeling exactly what your language suggests you feel: a sense of stark yet contented doom.
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