17 Saturday Dec 2016
Posted in poetry, spider phibes
Tags
Now is the winter
Of my discontent,
Malignant, poignant,
Hellbent.
Hiss, at the glimpse,
The looking glass,
I cower, shudder as
I go past.
The freak, I see
The beast is me.
A raging war in time
Of peace.
Made to scare,
Made to creep
Softly, silence on
The streets.
To make dogs growl,
And people skittish,
A darkened villain, so
Unfinished.
Just the beginning,
In the making,
An enemy rising up,
Awakening.
-Spider Phibes
(12/25/2014)
17 Saturday Dec 2016
Posted in poetry, spider phibes
“What’s that sound,” they scream. I pound
My fist into, and through, the crown
Of their head, it sheds. When it rains, it pours,
The trick to cooperation is using force.
Of course, my source is my surroundings,
Which is how I dine in the dark profoundly,
Perchance, by chance, I laugh too loudly,
But I invite my blight to increase the bounty.
For I need meat, beef makes me complete,
A villain is only filling the void of a bleak
Necessity, necessarily created unique,
Twisted terribly to be made obsolete.
-Spider Phibes
(05/10/2015)
