The bouncing spider

Related poetry:

1. 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 […]...
2. 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 […]...
3. A Spider sewed at Night A Spider sewed at Night Without a Light Upon an Arc of White. If Ruff it was of Dame Or Shroud of Gnome Himself himself inform. Of Immortality His Strategy Was Physiognomy....
4. The Spider as an Artist The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified By every Broom and Bridget Throughout a Christian Land Neglected Son of Genius I take thee by the Hand...
5. Sanary Her little hot room looked over the bay Through a stiff palisade of glinting palms, And there she would lie in the heat of the day, Her dark head resting upon her arms, So quiet, so still, she did not seem To think, to feel, or even to dream. The shimmering, blinding web of sea […]...
6. The Spider holds a Silver Ball The Spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl unwinds He plies from Nought to Nought In unsubstantial Trade Supplants our Tapestries with His In half the period An Hour to rear supreme His Continents of Light Then dangle from the Housewife’s Broom His Boundaries forgot...
7. A Noiseless Patient Spider A NOISELESS, patient spider, I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding, It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself; Ever unreeling them-ever tirelessly speeding them. And you, O my Soul, where you stand, Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, […]...
8. The Jungle Husband Dearest Evelyn, I often think of you Out with the guns in the jungle stew Yesterday I hittapotamus I put the measurements down for you but they got lost in the fuss It’s not a good thing to drink out here You know, I’ve practically given it up dear. Tomorrow I am going alone a […]...
9. Death Wants More Death death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father’s garage, how child-like I would brush the corpses of flies From the windows they thought were escape- Their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies Shouting like dumb crazy dogs against the glass Only to spin and flit In that second larger than hell or […]...
10. Outsong in the Jungle For the sake of him who showed One wise Frog the Jungle-Road, Keep the Law the Man-Pack make For thy blind old Baloo’s sake! Clean or tainted, hot or stale, Hold it as it were the Trail, Through the day and through the night, Questing neither left nor right. For the sake of him who […]...
11. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
12. The Old General Little Annabelle to please, (Lacking grace, I grant), Grandpa down on hands and knees Plays the elephant. Annabelle shrieks with delight, Bouncing up and down, On his back and holding tight To his dressing gown. As they roll and bowl along, Round and round the room, There is sunshine and a song ‘Spite December gloom. […]...
13. An Afternoon In The Stacks Closing the book, I find I have left my head Inside. It is dark in here, but the chapters open Their beautiful spaces and give a rustling sound, Words adjusting themselves to their meaning. Long passages open at successive pages. An echo, Continuous from the title onward, hums Behind me. From in here, the world […]...
14. Hunting-Song of the Seeonee Pack (From The Jungle Book) As the dawn was breaking the Sambhur belled Once, twice, and again! And a doe leaped up and a doe leaped up From the pond in the wood where the wild deer sup. This I, scouting alone, beheld, Once, twice, and again! As the dawn was breaking the Sambhur belled Once, […]...
15. Harmon Whitney Out of the lights and roar of cities, Drifting down like a spark in Spoon River, Burnt out with the fire of drink, and broken, The paramour of a woman I took in self-contempt, But to hide a wounded pride as well. To be judged and loathed by a village of little minds I, gifted […]...
16. "In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth – Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? – Portent in little, assorted death and blight Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth? – The beady spider, the flower like […]...
17. Design I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth, And dead wings […]...
18. Night Ray Most brightly of all burned the hair of my evening loved one: To her I send the coffin of lightest wood. Waves billow round it as round the bed of our dream in Rome; It wears a white wig as I do and speaks hoarsely: It talks as I do when I grant admittance to […]...
19. The Vixen Among the taller wood with ivy hung, The old fox plays and dances round her young. She snuffs and barks if any passes by And swings her tail and turns prepared to fly. The horseman hurries by, she bolts to see, And turns agen, from danger never free. If any stands she runs among the […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. For A Poet I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth, And laid them away in a box of gold; Where long will cling the lips of the moth, I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth; I hide no hate; I am not even wroth Who found the earth’s breath so keen and cold; I […]...
22. A Song of Enchantment A song of Enchantment I sang me there, In a green-green wood, by waters fair, Just as the words came up to me I sang it under the wild wood tree. Widdershins turned I, singing it low, Watching the wild birds come and go; No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen Under […]...
23. An Eare-Stringe ‘Tis vayne to add a ring or gemme, Your eare itselfe outpasseth them. When idle words are passing here, I warne and pull you by the eare. This silken chayne stands wayting here For golden tongues to tye on there. Here silken twynes, there locks you see Now tell me which the softer bee?...
24. Crossed Threads The silken threads by viewless spinners spun, Which float so idly on the summer air, And help to make each summer morning fair, Shining like silver in the summer sun, Are caught by wayward breezes, one by one, Are blown to east and west and fastened there, Weaving on all the roads their sudden snare. […]...
25. Identity 1) An individual spider web Identifies a species: An order of instinct prevails through all accidents of circumstance, though possibility is High along the peripheries of Spider webs: you can go all around the fringing attachments and find Disorder ripe, Entropy rich, high levels of random, numerous occasions of accident: 2) the possible settings Of […]...
26. Morning Song in the Jungle One moment past our bodies cast No shadow on the plain; Now clear and black they stride our track, And we run home again. In morning-hush, each rock and bush Stands hard, and high, and raw: Then give the Call: “Good rest to all That keep the Jungle Law!” Now horn and pelt our peoples […]...
27. It tossed and tossed It tossed and tossed A little Brig I knew o’ertook by Blast It spun and spun And groped delirious, for Morn It slipped and slipped As One that drunken stept Its white foot tripped Then dropped from sight Ah, Brig Good Night To Crew and You The Ocean’s Heart too smooth too Blue To break […]...
28. The Daughter Of The Year Nature, when she made thee, dear, Begged the treasures of the year. For thy cheeks, all pink and white, Spring gave apple blossoms light; Summer, for thy matchless eyes, Gave the azure of her skies; Autumn spun her gold and red In a mass of silken thread- Gold and red and sunlight rare For the […]...
29. A. E. F THERE will be a rusty gun on the wall, sweetheart, The rifle grooves curling with flakes of rust. A spider will make a silver string nest in the darkest, warmest corner of it. The trigger and the range-finder, they too will be rusty. And no hands will polish the gun, and it will hang on […]...
30. Gyroscope This admirable gadget, when it is Wound on a string and spun with steady force, Maintains its balance on most any smooth Surface, pleasantly humming as it goes. It is whirled not on a constant course, but still Stands in unshivering integrity For quite some time, meaning nothing perhaps But being something agreeable to watch, […]...
31. Miscarriage Fold this, our daughter’s grave, And seal it with your kiss. For all the love I gave, You owe me this. Inside of me, she had Your lips and tongue, my air Of grimness, thin and sad, With your thick hair. Inside of you, I trust, She was a simple mesh Of need and paper, […]...
32. Mowgli's Song The Song of Mowgli I, Mowgli, am singing. Let the jungle listen to the things I have done. Shere Khan said he would kill would kill! At the gates in the twilight he would kill Mowgli, the Frog! He ate and he drank. Drink deep, Shere Khan, for when wilt thou drink again? Sleep and […]...
33. The Poet as Hero You’ve heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented, Mocking and loathing War: you’ve asked me why Of my old, silly sweetness I’ve repented My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry. You are aware that once I sought the Grail, Riding in armour bright, serene and strong; And it was told that through my infant wail There […]...
34. Alone and in a Circumstance Alone and in a Circumstance Reluctant to be told A spider on my reticence Assiduously crawled And so much more at Home than I Immediately grew I felt myself a visitor And hurriedly withdrew Revisiting my late abode With articles of claim I found it quietly assumed As a Gymnasium Where Tax asleep and Title […]...
35. The Cuckoo The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight, With narrow pointed wings Whews o’er our heads-soon out of sight And as she flies she sings: And darting down the hedgerow side She scares the little bird Who leaves the nest it cannot hide While plaintive notes are heard. I’ve watched it on an old oak tree […]...
36. The Craftsmen Of The Little Box Don’t open the little box Heaven’s hat will fall out of her Don’t close her for any reason She’ll bite the trouser-leg of eternity Don’t drop her on the earth The sun’s eggs will break inside her Don’t throw her in the air Earth’s bones will break inside her Don’t hold her in your hands […]...
37. Psalm 124 A song for the fifth of November. Had not the Lord, may Isr’el say, Had not the Lord maintained our side, When men, to make our lives a prey, Rose like the swelling of the tide; The swelling tide had stopped our breath, So fiercely did the waters roll, We had been swallowed deep in […]...
38. The Cold There was a cold In which A line of water across the chest risen (dream) Impetuate, or Impetuates Orthograph you cherish, a hand her Of doubt importance Her imbroglio the winnowing of ever Does establish An imbroglio, ever She does repeatedly declare To no cold end Admonish wit, at wit’s end, where “wit” is *** […]...
39. The Dependencies This morning, between two branches of a tree Beside the door, epeira once again Has spun and signed his tapestry and trap. I test his early-warning system and It works, he scrambles forth in sable with The yellow hieroglyph that no one knows The meaning of. And I remember now How yesterday at dusk the […]...
40. Has My Heart Gone To Sleep? Has my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams Stopped working, the waterwheel Of the mind run dry, Scoops turning empty, Only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreaming- Its eyes are opened wide Watching distant signals, listening On the rim of […]...