Honey Cataracts- Poetry

honey cataracts 

syrup glazed morning

my sweetened perception 

it stings

ouch. 

converses in daisy fields

copper tinged sun

ambrosia on our tongues

as we both 

never revealed 

what was of us 

the crumbles of our hopes 

hum with the carnage of insects

the foundation underneath

rumbles our honeycomb prison 

barefoot in daisy fields 

boys on the run 

icarus, fly to the sun 

as we both 

burn

what was left of us

honey cataracts 

sunshine in my glasses 

your sweetened deception 

it stings

ouch. 

My Little Brother Applies as a Writer for the Blog

Ahh, summer. Endless days of heat, mosquitos, and boredom. This boredom that comes with summer can inspire otherwise normal people to do crazy, radical things.

Scorpion Weaver, my little brother, has applied for a job at TheWebWeavers. Otherwise known as this blog. I don’t think he completely understands what a resume is supposed to do…

Scorpian's resume

If you can’t read his handwriting, which I assume is most of the human population, I’ll transcribe it here.

Cons for hiring Scorpion Weaver

  • Will blame everything on Arachnid Weaver
  • bad at writing
  • Cannot spell properly
  • smells funny
  • will spin if given the opportunity
  • YUM!!!
  • will eat all of you cookies, WHERE ARE You HIDING THEM, I will find them
  • may lose all of your readers
  • will pelt you with questions
  • will ask you for help (make you write the posts for him)
  • his handwriting is very bad.

Pros for hiring Scorpion Weaver

  • none

He also wrote a poem…

the bird poem.jpg

A page for...long footed birds!

A very bad poem by Scorpion

 

Birds, they are the living

plane of the sky. Birds they

fly, birds they die. Birds cannot

see glass, oh what a sad

sight. Birds they can be

gross. Birds, they eat worms,

eww! Oh Birds I am sad

to see you go, birds

I wish you could stay

longer, but I must hibernate.

Goodbye birds.


Well, what do you think readers? Should we hire Scorpion?


A Note: I’m currently in Bangladesh for a three-week trip and I won’t be back until July 15, 2018, so I won’t be able to reply to your lovely comments until I get back.

You Float Away

Sofearless

They smile, they love
Oh, stars above
They really do love
Forever forlorn
You heart is torn

In a room full of strangers
A fresh chapter, you hope
Words mumbling and stumbling
One mistake and you’re crumbling

An alleyway, a home
Since the exit from the womb
Safe is a word we no longer know
Trust is a memory of long ago

A child sits by herself
Walls created to shield
But the words are still slinging
While the teacher pretends
That they hear nothing

Your beloved floats away
To a better world
And your world
Becomes a bitter blur
You wish all the while
That you could have gone too
Than stay in a land where comfort is few

He loves you not
Though he promised he did
He loved your glory in the sun
Your joy in the rainbow
But your rain was too much
A hailstorm of…

View original post 54 more words

A New Book!

Since I just came back from a trip in Madrid, Italy, I’m very, very tired, but today, I’ll share with you our newest book which just came out on Amazon! It has sold one copy so far and I’m very proud of the publication.

It’s called “Wholesome Poetry” and it’s very different from today’s contemporary mindset towards the genre. Our book may be fattening for some of you, hard to swallow, but take it with an open mind. I hope it flips your view of poetry in the future, as it breaks all the established conventions of our current day rhyme and riddle.

Also, it covers a topic that is very controversial, which is the item of food. Food is rarely written about and these “wholesome” foods contain some secret that is very vicious:  carbs.

By writing about bread, wheat, and other grainy products, we hope to open the eyes of the people who throw away the crust. If this book is successful, we will create a sequel about how hotdogs and chicken nuggets are conjured.

Now for a little sneak peek:

Oh, u were so thick, oatmeal

Looking back at ur surface, my eyes a soft teal

But, oh y, may I ask were u not gluten free?

Y u not the perfect food for me?

If you enjoyed that, please check out the link: https://www.amazon.com/s/bread/poetry

A Stream of Random Thoughts | Jest

Today’s random word is JEST!

YAAAY.

I command you to clap.

Jest is lonely and sad. They could use some applause.

*A cricket chirps in the distance*

The first thoughts that come to mind for this lovely flowchart that is a paragraph in this head/post, what the blobfish do I mean? Obviously, I am tired and this post will make no sense. Also, I’m not allowed to edit, so all the nonexistent readers will think I’m losing it.

Losing what, you may ask? mY MinD, I answer.

akdjfjkdgkdkfd

It’s been crazy.

I’m getting distracted. Okay. Jest. Flowchart. Super happy fun times.

*Blows out a breath*

K.

Words that come to mind from “Jest” include jester and something else, but I’ve forgotten. Give me a minute.

Uhhhhh…

Oh! I remember! It was vest! Get it? Cuz “vest” rhymes with “jest”.

Hahahahahaha

I’m so funny. RHYMES.

I like puns. I like puns a lot. They’re so punny.

I’m not particularly good at puns. I just like other people’s puns. I’m getting off track. Oh well, wasn’t that the point of this whole series? To see how far my mind will stray and to gauge how crazy I truly am.

*Sighs*

It’s been crazy.

I’ve read some lovely books. They were lovely.

SLEEEEEEEP

I WANT TO SLEEEEEP

SLEEEEP WOULD BE NICE

LIKE RICE

SLEEPITY SLEEEP SLEEEEP SLEEEEEP

IT RHYMES WITH SHEEEEEEEP

SHEEEP!!!

SHEEP!

I COUNT TURTLES AND YOU COUNT SHEEEP

I COUNT TURTLES

IN FANCY HATS

WEARING GIANT BOW TIES

OH, HOW THEY JEST,

THOSE JESTER TURTLES PERFORMING FOR THE TURTLE KING

THE TURTLE KING IS A TYRANT

HE ENSLAVES ALL THOSE POOR TURTLE SOULS

I AM THE TURTLE KING

I FORCE THEM TO WALK BEFORE ME

WHILE I FALL ASLEEP

IN FANCY SUITS AND TIES

I am tired. Good night.

Lays Potato Chips: A Rant || (And Netgalley)

This was inspired by a post of Spinette’s that I found in the trash. So yeah, credits go to Spinette.

So before I rant about Lays Potato Chips, I going to rant about Netgalley for a bit (a really little bit, don’t worry. You’ll get to your grease slices soon enough.)

So I was going to finally sign up for Netgalley today (Well, yesterday, when I’m writing this) because they have Tess of the Woods on there, a book I really want to read but hasn’t come out yet.

So I filled out all their blanks and then it asks for my birthday, so I’m scrolling through the years available, and it stops at 2000.

ARACHNID RAGE!

You have to be 18?!

People younger than 18 like to read, too!!

(A note: The lower limit of the years was 1918. What about all those 101-year-old book reviewers out there? Can’t they participate either?)

 

Okay, okay. Lays chips.

Hmm…

What if I do this rant thing in the form of poetry? I’m practicing my poetry.

 

Warning: Bad Poetry Ahead

Lays, oh Lays

A bag three-quarters full of air

25% chips

You’re ruining the world

Polluting the Earth with excess plastic

 

You’re terrible in ways more than one

People crave your misleading snappish crunch

And fill themselves up with grease and salt

 

Oily fingers

~~~~End

 

(My favorite chips are Pringles.)