Conversation with a spider

I pick you as emissary. In ink, Dabbler

well done Weirdelf I Loved this poem about the hand sized inhabitant i have a morbid fear of these beasties but your poem is a delight O

Like your conversation with a spider. I like spiders that stay out of my face. Took a picture of a spider with a back full of babies crawling up a brick wall. A conversation with her would have been nice.

my read of your piece here, Jess, when lone b'old! a drug addict (nicotine, to be exact) picked one of many vacant computers here at the library, sat himself down, and spewed uncountable millions of bits of reeking cig smoke from hair and clothes in and about my space. So then, of course, rather than gag, etc., I had to shut down my computer monitor and escape to a more distant part of the library. Now that I read your delightful piece, I find it's worth the move. I happen to love spiders; I have, though, somewhat of a problem with smokers ... even when they're not smoking. My sniffer's too sensitive. And I also know that my health state has been altered to a damaging extent: Breathing cig smoke boosts my blood sugar, something I need like another hole in the head. Spiders are beautiful creatures, even big hairy tarantulas. I made a friend for life in a ten-year-old girl, daughter of an acquaintance of mine, when I delivered a live tarantula (nearly the size of my hand) I'd captured, with the aid of a paper bag, in the wilds north of Fresno, California, for her to keep as a pet. Along with instructions on how to best care for it/her/him/?/herm. Spiders appear, to me, to be intelligent creatures. Although at times it would seem one will place a web in the darndest place for catching flying insects. There's nothing like watching a spider watching me ... too closely. Fascinating. Thanx, Chuck

Great write here, Jess, though I think a spider that is big enough to walk off with the cat would not be all that welcome in our place... I'm terrified of spiders, no matter what size they are. As of late, I haven't been squishing them on sight, though - unless they're of epic proportions (then I just run away screaming, and get Jon to bag it) I figure they'll keep down on the other crawlies that venture into our place (flies, the odd ant, and such) I'm glad you've made peace with these creepy buggars - the only words I would say to a spider is how ugly it is, I think... I especially got a giggle from your apology in parentheses. Well done, you! ~Jess ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Johnny was a chemist's son, but Johnny is no more. What Johnny thought was H2O, was really H2SO4."

Did you intend to repeat it? If so, it wasn't necessary. The idea of conversing with a spider seems perfectly normal to me; even personifying an arachnid makes some strange sense in my mind. Perhaps I have spent too much time with the cats and dog, talking to each - even the occasional field mice that find their way inside have been bored by my voice. Nice piece, friend. What happened to the spider? Best, Ronda P.S. I was raised believing that only the females make the webs. Not sure if this is true, but it would answer your question of "Mr." or "Ms."

Smiles:) Barbara I thought this was a great write. Seeing it in evolution had to read again. Raally enjoyed Gave it a five, do not know If I rated it then.

The only line I did not care for along with the spiders and other leggy things was your screaming like a what did you say ? A girl? I've heard some men carry on over insects. Just love the line I don't drop my poetry on peoples faces, that just produced the strangest visual lol. and a side to Jess K I was in new york and chicago for the hatching of the 17 years locusts they are something from a sci fi they cannot launch themselves from the ground so they climb on things like people then take off. Amazing , as I always say there is a poem in everything !

Congratulations, my friend. Best, Ronda