Spider Unseen Poem by Tom Billsborough
Spider Unseen
Sleep's adhesive web
Ensnares me. And slowly
I am folded in a silk cocoon.
A spider plucks continual
Tunes upon his lyre
Of countless tensile strings,
Imposing his control unseen.
Will fear or flight proceed?
A claustrophobic nightmare
Or flight towards exotic
Dreams? Brief butterflies.
I cannot choose but lie
Here in suspense and now
Another me is exercising choice.
But is he real? And is he really me?
Or mere mirror which holds
My image before I see myself?
Or the true conductor proposing
Fact on which I am compelled to act?
A very insightful piece, Tom. Are we free to act upon volition, or have the vibrations plucked from the beginning of time predetermined all actions?
I am puzzled by the new theory that a thought appears to be generated a micro-second before we are aware of it. I haven't quite made up my mind what this signifies. I wrote this a few weeks ago but overlooked it. In fact there were 24 poems I'd missed. Some of these are beyond repair, one is a particularly vicious portrait of a Lady, quite funny but not if she saw it... the rest are in for retreads. I tend to chuck a lot away. If it's not going anywhere it's in the bin! That's for your comments. the essence of consciousness is fascinating. You explore it yourself quite brilliantly. Tom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/24/2024 5:53:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
AArrrrrgggghh! I had asthma for 36 years and smothering in such things as spider webs was a special horror. Cleaned out my lungs of coffee and cigarettes 38 years ago Healthy as an ox. (however I do have this unstrangulated hernia which is somewhat pernicious at times. (Oh shut up Wes) I did shudder somewhat. Well written me lad
I'm afraid very strong black coffee and ciggies are still my main addictions, apart from your oogie of course. Thanks for the comment, Wes.