#beetle poems

[distal-dog]

even if fate pulls us apart, i'll always love you.

[plasmapop]

03/04/23 • experiment with parataxis / beetle facts of dubious veracity / help! there’s private language in my beetles / who would put a poem back together if it exploded

[rottedhand]

I want you to squash me like the bug I am.

Kill me with your body weight.

Watch the life drain from my eyes,

Letting the last thing I see be you.

What am I to you?

Beetle? or spider?

Beautiful? Or useful?

Perhaps,

A mosquito?

Love, what am I to you?

Please tell me.

I am not an annoyance to be swatted away,

An embarrassment to all bug kind.

Please tell me,

I am beautiful.

Like the beetle that rest on my thigh.

Have you noticed it?

What else have you noticed?

Please tell me.

[feralgoblin-art]

I saw a rather large beetle (compared to the other beetles I see) on the sidewalk when I went to work yesterday morning. I checked on it a few times after I found it. It moved a bit throughout the morning and then it was gone.

I really liked seeing it and I thought it was very pretty. I took some pictures of it:)

I guess I liked it so much, I was inspired to write poems about it before bed last night/this morning 😂 I hardly remember writing them.

I love the beetle.

The poem says:

Beetle

Hello little friend

I met you on the sidewalk

So little and green

You sit “in the way”

I believe I am in yours

I apologize

- Scissors for scale -

[boybasher]

[catilinas]

im going to be asleep by midnight pleeeaaaase <- lying. regretfully

[waanderlussttt]

this beetle crawled on my shoe and held on for about 5 minutes while i walked around before flying off. miss him

[incohorace]

also when i say 'recent' for that poem i mean like. a few months......i sadly havent written any poetry since school ended basically. actually not since exams started so not since may 😔

[alliwanttodoiscollectpoetry]

Strawberry Fields Forever by Ellie White (taken from Vanishing Below the Waist). This poem borrows its title and one line from The Beatles.

[randomrichards]

BLUE BEETLE:

Recent graduate

Forms link with an alien suit

Family stands talll

[queen-of-empathy]

Beetle

I spent summer on my back like a beetle

holding up my legs to dance for you and everything in between us, undignified

but shining blue black under your light

you found the colours in my shell and

held them up to be admired, you told me

that nothing earthly compared to their beauty

so I tucked in my wings and learned how to sing about the beauty of the sky

and the benefits of staying still

I shut every single pair of eyes

as if I could keep you with sheer will

you could have picked me up and put me back down on my little feet

you could have done that at least

[womanfromthewell]

And I will bleed as the ladybird does

As a reflex

To warn those who come to do me harm

I am not easy prey

[isawhitney]

Catching a truth in your hand is the same as catching a bug.

Look away. Avoid its gaze, play at nonchalance.

Maybe try to stretch out your sentences, or linger over every word

Like it’s somebody you love. Oh, distract yourself

A little and almost forget what’s false in the wash, but then

Quick!

Now!

Jump!

[queenerdloser]

honestly hysterical sometimes to read responses to some of my poems bc so many of them are like, “you are so good at examining faith and talking about god :) what a good christian girl :)” and im like. no actually im an atheist and part of the reason i write poetry about religion and god is bc i have a fundamentally weird relationship with religion and god. i havent been to church in years. god to me is a little guy im rotating around like a chicken blorbo. stop accusing me of being a fundamentalist for talking about god. 

[corvianbard]

#5115

Mighty stag beetle Upon the ancient oak tree, Fight for your fair maid.

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

OH? MY GOD??

You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.