What is there to say about insects? Some of them are pests, others aren’t.
However, most of them are just your common annoyances that seem obsessed with sucking your blood *cough* mosquitos *cough*.
I crawl away from the door after I lock it. I open the bottle and chug its contents. I haven’t done this since that faithful day I’d claimed my freedom. And now that very moment was playing in reverse. I was fighting to keep my wings from being nipped. I didn’t want to be a disease ridden flightless pigeon in a cardboard box.
I hate insects. Mosquitoes are very annoying. I do not like being in the summer heat while being attacked by thousands of bugs. In my family, I am the one that gets eaten the most by these terrible bugs. I also dislike nats and bees because i get stung very often. I do not like insects.
The insect made her feel disgusting. Its legs crawled against her skin and no matter how much she tried she couldn’t get the image of it out of her mind. She was glad it fell to the ground but now wondered if there were more.
Edt
The nest appeared to be moving, curling in on itself and out again. With a closer look I noticed it was not the nest that moved, but hundreds of fleshy pale slimey maggots, fighting over the stinking remains of a rotting pigeon.
each insect crawls
over the bubbling jewels
that grossed millions in that day.
All slimy, foul creatures do such.
It is their nature
their way
their power
and their prey
they take the good
and leave the bad
to rot and fester away.
lives in trees and have a life of its own, has to be brave and look out for things that will eat it but then has all the freedom in the world to go out and become what it wants, can learn from the environment it lives in.
Ali
“What is this?” I ask, pointing down to something moving across the ground. I’ve never been outside of the desert, not that I can remember, and there are many things that I don’t know about land that is covered with grass.
“That’s an insect,” Nathaniel says, laughing at my lack of knowledge, laughing as he educates me.
“I do not like it,” I say, resisting the urge to flick it away.
A red and green shinning insect landed on my arm as I lay reading in bed. It’s antene were swaying around it’s head with big bobbles on the end of them, I tried not to move as it walked slowy up towards my chin.
rita
a small slimy thing or a hard brown thing, not very nice…sometimes used to describe nasty people as a metaphor or simile to explain our utter dislike for them. Probably says a lot about their status too. In actual fact they probably serve a very significant and useful function in the natural world – the insect that is, not the people we´re insulting with our metaphors.
sian
good living
seema
the bugs are crawling all over the trees theres big small tall big small tall big small tall they climb all over the trees day and night not really know where they’re going what they’re doing insects just all over the damn place all over the place and
the insect crawled top the stairs, unwavering until a little boy jump down a step. As the boy landed on his but, he dragged down step by step and the bug felt every tremor of each fall.
The powers he had acquired were quickly becoming too much for him to contain. His curiosity lead him to hone in on it and put everything else aside. He was now able to simply destroy anything as if they were mere insects. And he wanted to crush them simply for that reason.
The cockroach scuttled past the feet of shrieking girls. In a few seconds the giggling group of teenagers became a jumble of mass chaos as they jumped atop the benches in the locker. I rolled my eyes and continued to change, but it approached me and I leaped for the stars.
The tiniest insect building up its home’s got a lot more in its bones than you, a lot more in its stones. The tiniest of insects makes you look two inches tall, the tiniest of insects still can fly after it falls.
They’re bugging your mind it’s
In the walls
on the floor
Binoculars peering into your window. Your tin hat
Peering into your skull
Scuttling beneath the censors
Like an ant on the pavement
Janine
The insects were crawling up her legs and into her clothing and all over her.
“GAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!” she was screaming in terror when she was awoken by the gentle touch of her mother.
“It was only a dream,” her mother comforted. But the girl, whose prophecy skills were unrivaled, knew better.
mackedee
Insects are small creatures that you find among almost all aspects of life. They vary by the millions in species and they all have distinct qualities. Some can fly and some can swim.
Aaron
The grasshopper was made of porcelain. His body was protected from the turrets because apparently they could not shoot through porcelain that strong. Chell kidnapped the cricket so she could kill him and wear his exoskeleton as armor because she hated those crickets so much and she also hated the turrets.
I see it. Out of the corner of my eye, trying to sneek on by. But I know it is there. I wonder what I should do. Ignore it. Look it straight in the eye. Get something to squash it. But then I think, “What does it see out of the corner of its eye?”
The thing was that she never really had been icky about insects. And that bothered most people. She couldn’t understand how lack of fear was any cause for concern, but there she was, sitting alone like always…
Jessica G
I feel like an insect.
Every day starts out the same.
My routine, my tasks that need to be done.
As I swerve my way through the crowd no one notices.
No one cares.
No one wonders aloud;
What is that girl doing today?
People who I would think would talk to me,
brush right by.
Familiars. Unfamiliars.
Faces don’t mean anything anymore, you’re all strangers regardless at this point.
I don’t get to have a favorite color or food. No one asks. I have no opinions of my own…None that matter.
I don’t get to do anything on these lonely nights I spend typing to myself.
Words that maybe five strangers will read and think…gosh that applies to me.
Do they ever consider the writer? Maybe it applies to the writer too.
Maybe someone else is sitting where you are sitting.
I feel crushed. I can no longer rely on what was once so important to me.
Like an ant without a colony, I belong nowhere.
In time I will find myself wasting to nothing.
Lili
Ladybugs have surrounded me for as long as I can remember them. As a child I trapped as many as I could into a glass container. My sister and I would spend all afternoon collecting them but would mange to catch 4 at most. We would them take them inside the house and stare at them for the rest of the day, slowly watching them lose life. No matter how hard we tried to make the glass jar inhabitable, we simply couldn’t make them last longer than a couple hours without feeling guilty and releasing them back outside. Half dead, without a clear memory of what had happened.
I find their world to be like that of an insect. They eat, they mate, they kill, they die and the whole cycle starts again. This is why I call it small thinking. It doesn’t grow, they stay enormously small. They could let their mind expand to the horizons and realize how they limit themselves. But no, they create a plague of simple minds that wish to dive down and destroy what others have built. Bring destruction to a growing peace.
I raise my hand and speak the words they they do not wish to hear. I let my voice crack their brains like old china meets concrete. They weep, they moan and scream bloody murder to the sky.
Then one steps forward, their eyes opened and drinking in the knowledge I have let them glimpse. A few more timidly, then more are walking, running, it becomes a flood of joy and laughter. The majority stay behind. I have saved those I could. The rest feast on their own flesh and kill all those around them to try and purge my truth from their minds.
The sun sets on their battle. The sun rises on their graves.
They crawled up the walls like maggots, like swarms of ravenous insects set on tearing our defense apart.
But we held firm. They broke upon us wave after wave, their black blood staining shadows into our silver armor. They never stopped coming. We never stopped killing.
Chris
insect, tickles the hair on my arm, draped over the desk where there’s crumbs from my ham and swiss on toasted bread, my arm hairs dance, untwist, and it feels like ants.
Insects are vital to an ecosystem, no matter how much of a nuisance they are. The bio regents will ask about how pesticides and killing insects destroys ecosystems. These pests can be very annoying.
She leaves her head wide open to let the insects in. They buzz around in her skull with misconceptions about everyone and everything. Sometimes, they fed her happiness for awhile, and then she saw him for who he was. Other times, it fogged her vision of the other him, who wasn’t hiding anything from sight.
My ears perked up. Here it goes, baby. This is how it starts.
“A what?” Emile leaned in, eyes locking onto Andrew’s. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him. Nervous.
Andrew rubs his knuckles. He glances at me before quickly taking a sip of his drink, and smiles tightly into his glass. “A statue. Have you ever had a conversation with a statue? They sit there, all high and mighty, unmoving. They think themselves great works of art.” He drains the rest of his drink before slamming his glass on the counter. “Little do they know that we can smash them as if they’re bugs. An insignificant fly.”
There was passing judgment in her face when she looked at him. Her eyes were cold and her mouth formed a resolute line as she quickly studied him, then looked away in disgust, as though her suspicions proved accurate. He felt tiny, helpless. Like a smoldering insect trapped beneath the magnifying glass gaze of her eyes.
They were right behind me, buzzing horribly, their terrible wings jittering and blowing wind across the jungle. There was no way I could outrun them. I was done for.
Andy Machado
I just can’t get rid of this buzzing sound in my head. Like some Poe character, I lie awake tossing and turning while this insect burrows away from one ear to the middle of my mind.
Mary
insects hurt
and stuff
some are small
but still are tuff
when they wiggle
they make me jiggle
and their shells, i will now crush
Chris
“You filthy INSECT,” Loki growled. “I am a GOD! You will bow to me or you will face my wrath!”
“Or, y’know, there’s always that third option,” Tony supplied, “where I kick your ass with science.”
the annoying speciese that keeps sucking humans blood!!
I’m being watched, I’m sure. A spider awaiting prey.
I want to follow through on something, but everyone is watching… waiting for me to change my mind.
What is there to say about insects? Some of them are pests, others aren’t.
However, most of them are just your common annoyances that seem obsessed with sucking your blood *cough* mosquitos *cough*.
I crawl away from the door after I lock it. I open the bottle and chug its contents. I haven’t done this since that faithful day I’d claimed my freedom. And now that very moment was playing in reverse. I was fighting to keep my wings from being nipped. I didn’t want to be a disease ridden flightless pigeon in a cardboard box.
I hate insects. Mosquitoes are very annoying. I do not like being in the summer heat while being attacked by thousands of bugs. In my family, I am the one that gets eaten the most by these terrible bugs. I also dislike nats and bees because i get stung very often. I do not like insects.
The insect made her feel disgusting. Its legs crawled against her skin and no matter how much she tried she couldn’t get the image of it out of her mind. She was glad it fell to the ground but now wondered if there were more.
The nest appeared to be moving, curling in on itself and out again. With a closer look I noticed it was not the nest that moved, but hundreds of fleshy pale slimey maggots, fighting over the stinking remains of a rotting pigeon.
each insect crawls
over the bubbling jewels
that grossed millions in that day.
All slimy, foul creatures do such.
It is their nature
their way
their power
and their prey
they take the good
and leave the bad
to rot and fester away.
Stick insect, so amazingly full of life, to pick one up is like picking up a thing and bringing it to life.
lives in trees and have a life of its own, has to be brave and look out for things that will eat it but then has all the freedom in the world to go out and become what it wants, can learn from the environment it lives in.
“What is this?” I ask, pointing down to something moving across the ground. I’ve never been outside of the desert, not that I can remember, and there are many things that I don’t know about land that is covered with grass.
“That’s an insect,” Nathaniel says, laughing at my lack of knowledge, laughing as he educates me.
“I do not like it,” I say, resisting the urge to flick it away.
A red and green shinning insect landed on my arm as I lay reading in bed. It’s antene were swaying around it’s head with big bobbles on the end of them, I tried not to move as it walked slowy up towards my chin.
a small slimy thing or a hard brown thing, not very nice…sometimes used to describe nasty people as a metaphor or simile to explain our utter dislike for them. Probably says a lot about their status too. In actual fact they probably serve a very significant and useful function in the natural world – the insect that is, not the people we´re insulting with our metaphors.
good living
the bugs are crawling all over the trees theres big small tall big small tall big small tall they climb all over the trees day and night not really know where they’re going what they’re doing insects just all over the damn place all over the place and
the insect crawled top the stairs, unwavering until a little boy jump down a step. As the boy landed on his but, he dragged down step by step and the bug felt every tremor of each fall.
The powers he had acquired were quickly becoming too much for him to contain. His curiosity lead him to hone in on it and put everything else aside. He was now able to simply destroy anything as if they were mere insects. And he wanted to crush them simply for that reason.
The cockroach scuttled past the feet of shrieking girls. In a few seconds the giggling group of teenagers became a jumble of mass chaos as they jumped atop the benches in the locker. I rolled my eyes and continued to change, but it approached me and I leaped for the stars.
The tiniest insect building up its home’s got a lot more in its bones than you, a lot more in its stones. The tiniest of insects makes you look two inches tall, the tiniest of insects still can fly after it falls.
It’s flown by a million times
Bugging my brain, //
Leave me be
They’re bugging your mind it’s
In the walls
on the floor
Binoculars peering into your window. Your tin hat
Peering into your skull
Scuttling beneath the censors
Like an ant on the pavement
The insects were crawling up her legs and into her clothing and all over her.
“GAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!” she was screaming in terror when she was awoken by the gentle touch of her mother.
“It was only a dream,” her mother comforted. But the girl, whose prophecy skills were unrivaled, knew better.
Insects are small creatures that you find among almost all aspects of life. They vary by the millions in species and they all have distinct qualities. Some can fly and some can swim.
The grasshopper was made of porcelain. His body was protected from the turrets because apparently they could not shoot through porcelain that strong. Chell kidnapped the cricket so she could kill him and wear his exoskeleton as armor because she hated those crickets so much and she also hated the turrets.
I see it. Out of the corner of my eye, trying to sneek on by. But I know it is there. I wonder what I should do. Ignore it. Look it straight in the eye. Get something to squash it. But then I think, “What does it see out of the corner of its eye?”
The thing was that she never really had been icky about insects. And that bothered most people. She couldn’t understand how lack of fear was any cause for concern, but there she was, sitting alone like always…
I feel like an insect.
Every day starts out the same.
My routine, my tasks that need to be done.
As I swerve my way through the crowd no one notices.
No one cares.
No one wonders aloud;
What is that girl doing today?
People who I would think would talk to me,
brush right by.
Familiars. Unfamiliars.
Faces don’t mean anything anymore, you’re all strangers regardless at this point.
I don’t get to have a favorite color or food. No one asks. I have no opinions of my own…None that matter.
I don’t get to do anything on these lonely nights I spend typing to myself.
Words that maybe five strangers will read and think…gosh that applies to me.
Do they ever consider the writer? Maybe it applies to the writer too.
Maybe someone else is sitting where you are sitting.
I feel crushed. I can no longer rely on what was once so important to me.
Like an ant without a colony, I belong nowhere.
In time I will find myself wasting to nothing.
Ladybugs have surrounded me for as long as I can remember them. As a child I trapped as many as I could into a glass container. My sister and I would spend all afternoon collecting them but would mange to catch 4 at most. We would them take them inside the house and stare at them for the rest of the day, slowly watching them lose life. No matter how hard we tried to make the glass jar inhabitable, we simply couldn’t make them last longer than a couple hours without feeling guilty and releasing them back outside. Half dead, without a clear memory of what had happened.
I find their world to be like that of an insect. They eat, they mate, they kill, they die and the whole cycle starts again. This is why I call it small thinking. It doesn’t grow, they stay enormously small. They could let their mind expand to the horizons and realize how they limit themselves. But no, they create a plague of simple minds that wish to dive down and destroy what others have built. Bring destruction to a growing peace.
I raise my hand and speak the words they they do not wish to hear. I let my voice crack their brains like old china meets concrete. They weep, they moan and scream bloody murder to the sky.
Then one steps forward, their eyes opened and drinking in the knowledge I have let them glimpse. A few more timidly, then more are walking, running, it becomes a flood of joy and laughter. The majority stay behind. I have saved those I could. The rest feast on their own flesh and kill all those around them to try and purge my truth from their minds.
The sun sets on their battle. The sun rises on their graves.
We step forward to a new day
They crawled up the walls like maggots, like swarms of ravenous insects set on tearing our defense apart.
But we held firm. They broke upon us wave after wave, their black blood staining shadows into our silver armor. They never stopped coming. We never stopped killing.
insect, tickles the hair on my arm, draped over the desk where there’s crumbs from my ham and swiss on toasted bread, my arm hairs dance, untwist, and it feels like ants.
insects are manipulative. they’re disgusting but don’t be branded as an “animal hater.” fuck that. i need to replace the word fuck.
Insects are vital to an ecosystem, no matter how much of a nuisance they are. The bio regents will ask about how pesticides and killing insects destroys ecosystems. These pests can be very annoying.
She leaves her head wide open to let the insects in. They buzz around in her skull with misconceptions about everyone and everything. Sometimes, they fed her happiness for awhile, and then she saw him for who he was. Other times, it fogged her vision of the other him, who wasn’t hiding anything from sight.
“Have you ever had a conversation with a statue?”
My ears perked up. Here it goes, baby. This is how it starts.
“A what?” Emile leaned in, eyes locking onto Andrew’s. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him. Nervous.
Andrew rubs his knuckles. He glances at me before quickly taking a sip of his drink, and smiles tightly into his glass. “A statue. Have you ever had a conversation with a statue? They sit there, all high and mighty, unmoving. They think themselves great works of art.” He drains the rest of his drink before slamming his glass on the counter. “Little do they know that we can smash them as if they’re bugs. An insignificant fly.”
There was passing judgment in her face when she looked at him. Her eyes were cold and her mouth formed a resolute line as she quickly studied him, then looked away in disgust, as though her suspicions proved accurate. He felt tiny, helpless. Like a smoldering insect trapped beneath the magnifying glass gaze of her eyes.
I ran, fast.
They were right behind me, buzzing horribly, their terrible wings jittering and blowing wind across the jungle. There was no way I could outrun them. I was done for.
I just can’t get rid of this buzzing sound in my head. Like some Poe character, I lie awake tossing and turning while this insect burrows away from one ear to the middle of my mind.
insects hurt
and stuff
some are small
but still are tuff
when they wiggle
they make me jiggle
and their shells, i will now crush
“You filthy INSECT,” Loki growled. “I am a GOD! You will bow to me or you will face my wrath!”
“Or, y’know, there’s always that third option,” Tony supplied, “where I kick your ass with science.”