One Determined Little Spider

The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. 

Down came the rain and it washed the spider out.

Out came the sun and it dried up all the rain.

And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again.

For as many times as I’ve heard that song that damn spider must have crawled up the water spout five-hundred-trillion times. Why even climb back up at all? Why not go find a nice little dry corner of the world to weave your web, little spider? You could just find yourself a nice little corner in an attic somewhere to live your life and you will never have to worry about inclement weather conditions. It just seems as though of all places, you are determined to place yourself in the most impractical position possible- at the top of a water spout. The glut of spiders that crowd my attic always seem to be in the most obscure corners and crevasses as if they know to prepare themselves for that one fateful December day when I make the trek up the ladder to pull down the Christmas tree. Hanging around by a water spout is just asking to be rained upon and washed out isn’t it? Nevertheless, I don’t know any songs about the hoard of attic spiders that dwell across the land far and wide; I know a song about you – the itsy bitsy spider who keeps climbing up that damn water spout.

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Enjoying a shower, before work as I do. 
I noticed a movement that gave me a boo. 
Wiping suds from my eyes I looked at the shape. 
‘twas a small spider that ran up the drape. 
At first I wanted to reach for my slipper, 
To deliver the fiend a lash like a whipper, 
But I changed my mind as you can probably tell. 
I have a good heart, I'm not going to hell. 
For you see this little fellow chose a poor place to dwell. 
To me a loo is an insect's death knell. 
Now I know that technically an insect he's not, 
But for the purpose of rhyme let's assume I'm not taught. 
A bathroom to most is preferably lifeless. 
And to many a tenant this fact is quite priceless. 
There is nothing for him to catch in his nets. 
And feed him I'll not, he's not one of my pets. 
So run along now with a hop and a skip. 
Before my wife wakes by the sound of the blip. 
She finds your kind particularly iffy. 
And she’s due to wake up within the next jiffy. 
If she sees you in here you'll give her a shocker. 
She'll kill you and flush you

Down to Davey Jones' locker 

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The other day I did discover,

A huge grey spider,

In my room,

I knew not where it came from.


Perhaps the lights attracted its attention,

Perhaps it was his passion,

To stay inside people’s houses,

Almost like those innocent sparrows.


Like a blaze I discovered the veiled point of universality,

Like the spider, humans are also seeking peace and security!

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Robert Bruce, Hero Of The Scots

Animal Rights
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When spider webs were destroyed by
Robert Bruce hero of the Scots
he left the spider alone
the spider he didn't scotch


-saiom shriver-




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Someones son is dying
right this immediate second of now..
and his General wraps his meaty iron fist
around the all-mighty oil-soaked dollar.
  An apex jungle-predator won't kill
for pleasure or amusement; 
  Even when hopelessly entangled
in the shimmering, dew-wet death
of a spiders web; 
  The spider, knowing it has no use 
for what has surrendered to its entrapment,
releases its prey not out of mercy, or sorrow..
but out of the calm calculus of reason.
  What then of this war? 
To quench the beasts' blood lust
of un-satisfiable desire?
  A revolution is growing silently 
in numbers, behind the backs
suckling from the tit of self destruction
and greed.
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Afar from the light of civilisation, has long been waiting,

The spider with its loved net

And the eyes’ floating dream to get

That most wanted thing.  


Proud the spider is

With a home in the air,

A phenomenon entirely unique and rare

Amongst the other species.


The Omniscient does every so often

Bless it with the horn of plenty,

Some other days do go tiresome and empty,

Chiefly with the rain’s burying its disposition.


The spider is part of the intricate chain as we all are,

Neither can it think nor has the aptitude to chatter,

Hanging, waiting and killing are

Its tasks; time does not subsist for it whatsoever!


As convoluted as the human correlation,

The magical net is

Providing the favoured groceries

And naively carrying out a laudable obligation.   

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The Invisible-Picasso-Painting Spider

The sad-eyed bearded man sat sipping his last drop of Old Crow whiskey, thinking about nothing and forever. He noticed a spider crawling across the old time-beaten table, feeling its way to the wall. He watched in pure astonishment as the spider stopped and began to make broad brush strokes with its right front feeler. Hour upon maddening hour, the invisible-Picasso-painting spider worked her majesty. Painting the masterpiece. The sad-eyed bearded man had lived alone in the old farmhouse since his wife Vivina had gone to the greater side of good 15 years earlier. He could not take his eyes off her. He saw it, the masterpiece, coming to life before his blurry eyes. Quickly, the sad-eyed bearded man ran for the kitchen sink and grabbed all the dead flys he could find for the invisible-Picasso-painting spider. Eagerly putting them in small piles beside her. Day after day, the sad-eyed bearded man sat sipping his last drops of Old Crow and smoking his sloppily-rolled cigarettes. Grabbing dead flys from every corner of the old farmhouse until he could find no more. She grew and grew. It was Tuesday morning, the 5th of July, and she was big enough to throw the noisy refrigerator down the basement stairs with one flick of a feeler. There was a knock. The sad-eyed bearded man scrambling and stumbling towards the door, " Yes! Yes! May I help you?". "Hello there, I hope i'm not bothering you. I'm Gabriel, a representative from the Center for Arachnaphobia, would you be interested in donat---, what the----". The sad-eyed bearded man spun around and slammed the door shut. "God-dammned sales men!". The man's beard grew longer and his eyes sadder. Night after night, day in and day out, he sipped his last drops of Old Crow and smoked his sloppily-rolled cigarettes, watching and feeding the spider, which by now, had grow to colossos proportions. He loved her. He could see her masterpiece in every brush stroke. On a Tuesday morning at the end of September, the sad-eyed bearded man awoke to a tickle on his right cheek. The Invisible-Picasso-Painting Spider sank her poison fangs deep inside his chest as he faded into bliss. She had finally finished her masterpiece.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Super Short Story

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Forgiveness Amongst Friends (Ant ~ Spider ~ Bee)

The Spring sun shines above
but, beneath the willow tree,
sits a spider and an ant
waiting for their friend, the bee.

They always meet up
every sun shiny day,
under the willow tree
so all three can play.

The spider and ant were talking
when finally, bee decided to show,
they looked at her, tapping their watches
"You're four hours late, you know."

"I had to do my hair," she explained
"my make-up, was hard to do,
then I had to find a dress
and my matching polkadot shoes."

"You're not going to a party," said ant
"we're just here to play,
you will get all dirty
and what if it rains today?"

"We'll let it go for now," said spider
let's go play in the sun,
we'll play hide and go seek
it will be so much fun."

Bee was so upset
she wanted to go home,
quickly, she turned to run away
and ran into the garden gnome.

Ant snickered and laughed at bee
he was rolling on the ground,
"That is quite enough," said spider
"bee, I still want you around."

"I'll just go home," said bee
"I am such a mess,"
she wiped dirt off of herself
and exclaimed "look at my beautiful dress!"

"I knew this would happen," said ant
"but, you didn't listen to me,
we're only here to play, I said
not going to a party."

"Ant, leave her alone
she's been through enough,
I'm tired of you being a bully," yelled spider
"and sick of you being rough."

Ant walked over to bee
knew he had to apologise,
gave her a great big hug
and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry for everything
please say you forgive me,"
ant was so ashamed of himself
he turned and sat 'neath the willow tree.

Bee walked over to him
and sat down by his side,
"of course, I forgive you
my feelings, I can't hide."

Ant looked at bee
tears rolled down his cheeks,
she could tell he was hurting
and feeling very weak.

Spider gave them both a hug
"This is what friendship is made of,
forgiveness goes a long way," said spider
"and filled with lots of love."

All was well between them
the spider, ant and bee,
they finally decided to play,
their hearts fillled with love and glee.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I had the title and the challenge words, but took me a while to write the poem.

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