That little spider moved quickly
into my small cabin on the lake.
Through a slight crack by the door
I stared, undaunted, eerie but inquisitive
as it slowly began weaving a lovely web.
I thought of all the cans of bug spray
and repellents waiting in the back room
but I was rather intrigued at her brash
nature and egotistical style displayed.
I questioned whether I should let her
stay, after all; less mosquitoes, flies,
and those infernal crickets, cricketing
all damn night never to be found.
She finished the web by nine o clock
soon the sound of a cricket echoed
then stopped and I checked my spider.
She let the cricket go, so I stomped her,
a size ten at eleven and went to bed.
The diabolical in nature will not win!
I awoke at two with a mosquito bite
itching on my forehead and that damn
cricket under my bed cricketing away,
scratching and tossing shoes all about,
am sure it’s now a great time for Plan B.
the damn tire is flat
my air has been stolen
or perhaps the seal gone
complications in my life
places to go in town
things to do all round
I could change the thing,
but only flat on the bottom.
a Master’s in Engineering so
I’m thinking I can fix this crap
just then my wife turns to say,
“don’t worry, AAA is on the way!”
I wait for this mechanical man
to come and repair my incident,
so here I sit, listening to this shit
and now I’m officially verklempt.
Golden Locks Upon a Morning Breeze
incessant jovial mumbling aghast
golden locks upon a morning breeze
convertible top down in harsh sunlight
Siamese cat rides proud upon the dash
casting hazy shadows from stem to stern
quieted ride upon the marshmallow tires
pizza bites sizzle on the red hot headers
as my brain awakens in a drunken stupor
crossing the plains, without fear or disdain
seeking or freaking like a two headed clam
memories absolved of all pleasure or piety
golden locks flow upon a morning breeze.
Blissfully Waiting for Lithium’s Last Kiss
Heartlessly waiting and regretfully abating
questioning the motif of an abstract work
wishing to feel the tweak or feted treats
as the prick in the arm burns so slightly.
Stand in a street now feeling less bleak
the Count reaches ten, the Muppet’s dance
the pain is long gone, Miss Piggy looks hot!
June thaw they say, what time is it anyway?
The officer stands looking me in the eyes
he checks my name on his computer list
asks why I’m on the roof, trying to fly, say I
just blissfully waiting for Lithium’s last kiss.
Ken Allan Dronsfield is a published poet who has recently been nominated for The Best of the Net and 2 Pushcart Awards for Poetry in 2016. His poetry has been published world-wide in various publications throughout North America, Europe, Asia, Australia and Africa. Ken loves thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night, and spending time with his cat Willa. Ken’s new book, “The Cellaring”, a collection of haunting, paranormal, weird and wonderful poems, has been released and is available through Amazon.com. He is the co-editor of the poetry anthology titled, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze available at Amazon.com. A second anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses will be released soon.