photo by the Poet‘Home Invasions’: Three Poems by James A. Tweedie The Society March 7, 2024 Culture, Humor, Poetry 11 Comments . Hatching A gelid mass of wings that seethed and surged— A squeamish sight that caught me by surprise— A swarming hatch of termites had emerged A host of queens to mount and fertilize. They sprang from cracks where wood and concrete meet, Where my garage door and my driveway kiss. New neighbors I had no desire to greet; Unwelcome guests I’d sooner hit than miss. As like a Plague of Egypt, on they came Like fetid flies on Satan’s bristled beard; A horde not even Moses’ staff could tame; And yet, within one hour they disappeared. Though evil may be out of sight, I find It’s never quite completely out of mind. . . Tropic Spawn Hawaii, where the Trade Wind echoes __Morning, noon and night, The roaches, spiders, ants, and geckoes __Were a daily sight. We often found them creepy-crawling __Outside on our lawn With Cane Toads, centipedes—appalling! __Nature’s Tropic spawn. But often, though, they came inside like __Rent-paying residents. While in our home they lived (and died) like __White House presidents. We saw them scurrying around, e- __nough to make us cringe. With flattened geckoes often found be- __tween a doorway hinge. We knew this home invasion wasn’t __Easy to defy. But though we were outnumbered doesn’t __Mean we didn’t try. We neither let them win the war nor __Gave up in defeat. We simply threw them out the door or __Squashed them with our feet. . . The Reek in Review My septic tanks reek worse than rotten eggs, More foul than fetid decomposing rats. The fumes from moldy, rancid wine cask dregs Smell sweet, compared to my twin sewage vats. As if to make things worse, mosquitoes breed Beneath the lids that cover up those tanks. At night the buggers bite—I scratch and bleed. Of hell’s worst smells, flushed fecal matter ranks. The good-news-bad-news is the leach field turns My lawn into a lovely emerald green, But makes unwanted dandelions and ferns Appear where I’d prefer they’d never been. Desfartes spoke true, “I stink, therefore I am.” But frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. . . James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and three collections of poetry including Mostly Sonnets, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in The Lyric, Poetry Salzburg (Austria) Review, California Quarterly, Asses of Parnassus, Lighten Up Online, Better than Starbucks, Dwell Time, Light, Deronda Review, The Road Not Taken, Fevers of the Mind, Sparks of Calliope, Dancing Poetry, WestWard Quarterly, Society of Classical Poets, and The Chained Muse. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. Trending now: 11 Responses Allegra Silberstein March 7, 2024 Oh, James, I read your poems with great delight…I stink, therefor I am!! was especially appreciated. Reply Joseph S. Salemi March 7, 2024 Hey, these three are great! They show that even unpleasant and distasteful subject matter can be turned into something delightful by poetic skill. Nature crawls with nauseating things like insects and lizards and masses of decomposition. One question: when you saw that swarm of termites, why photograph them? Wouldn’t the best thing be to douse the entire plague with a strong insecticide, and thereby prevent the queens from flying away and reproducing? “The Reek in Review” is absolutely perfect. And the final line quoting the famous quip by Rhett Butler is unexpected and striking. Reply James A. Tweedie March 7, 2024 Lol. Good question. I took the pic and then sprayed the area with an insecticide. I have to be careful because my wife has a high-risk sensitivity to such products, so I had to tell her to stay inside the house fo several hours. I also had a local eradication specialist come in and drill under that corner of the house since they were ground termite and, while they eat wood, they nest underground. I also replaced all of the trim and some of the framing around my garage door due to hidden termite damage. I had an even larger termite swarm in the house I rented for many years in Hawaii which required our landlord to pay for us to stay at a hotel for several days while our entire house was tented and fumed. Lovely creatures, no? I also sent Evan a short video clip of the swarm which is somewhat creepy to watch. And, yes, I had fun juxtaposing the revised Descartes quote with Rhett Butler’s. Serendipitous. Glad you liked it. Reply Roy Eugene Peterson March 7, 2024 These three clever creations are wonderful humor that made me shiver as I read them. Like the plagues on Egypt is both an apt and terrifying thought. I never thought Hawaii could be so infested as you described in your second humorous masterpiece. “The Reek in Review” is an overwhelmingly brilliant title for your third poem. Reply Paul A. Freeman March 7, 2024 Those ants in the picture are what we generically call ‘flying ants’ in the UK, and swarm once a year. When I was a kid, my parents would clean the house carpets once a year. The carpets were out in the garden one year, all soaped up and…. you guessed it, the flying ants swarmed, hundreds of them sticking to the carpets. Thanks for three vivid creepy-crawly poems, James. Reply Jeff Eardley March 7, 2024 Jim, this is the stuff of nightmares. I felt my skin crawling with every laugh out loud line. I love “residents” with “Presidents.” To catalogue such unpleasantness into great poetry takes real skill and you have proved, once again, that there are no flies on you. Brilliant!!! Reply Gigi Ryan March 7, 2024 The final couplet of “The Reek in Review,” is wonderfully clever. I enjoyed reading these poems this evening very much. Thank you. Reply Cheryl Corey March 8, 2024 These should have come with an advisory: do not read immediately before or after taking a meal. My own personal nemesis of the Class Insecta is the stinkbug. I found one on my bedroom floor a few months ago and almost picked it up, thinking it was a piece of fuzz. I dread it during autumn when they try (and too many times succeed) to make their way inside the window. If you smash them, they stink – ergo, the name. Yuk. Reply C.B. Anderson March 8, 2024 Since you mentioned stink bugs, Cheryl, I thought I should tell you about a close relative (in the Order Hemiptera) we had in Arizona, called kissing bugs. They would come to your bedsheets at night and begin sucking the tissue beneath your skin, leaving big painful welts. Most of this order feed on plants. Reply James A. Tweedie March 8, 2024 Well, there go any thoughts I may have had of ever moving to AZ. Cynthia Erlandson March 9, 2024 Not many poets could make disgusting things fun! Thanks, James! Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Allegra Silberstein March 7, 2024 Oh, James, I read your poems with great delight…I stink, therefor I am!! was especially appreciated. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi March 7, 2024 Hey, these three are great! They show that even unpleasant and distasteful subject matter can be turned into something delightful by poetic skill. Nature crawls with nauseating things like insects and lizards and masses of decomposition. One question: when you saw that swarm of termites, why photograph them? Wouldn’t the best thing be to douse the entire plague with a strong insecticide, and thereby prevent the queens from flying away and reproducing? “The Reek in Review” is absolutely perfect. And the final line quoting the famous quip by Rhett Butler is unexpected and striking. Reply
James A. Tweedie March 7, 2024 Lol. Good question. I took the pic and then sprayed the area with an insecticide. I have to be careful because my wife has a high-risk sensitivity to such products, so I had to tell her to stay inside the house fo several hours. I also had a local eradication specialist come in and drill under that corner of the house since they were ground termite and, while they eat wood, they nest underground. I also replaced all of the trim and some of the framing around my garage door due to hidden termite damage. I had an even larger termite swarm in the house I rented for many years in Hawaii which required our landlord to pay for us to stay at a hotel for several days while our entire house was tented and fumed. Lovely creatures, no? I also sent Evan a short video clip of the swarm which is somewhat creepy to watch. And, yes, I had fun juxtaposing the revised Descartes quote with Rhett Butler’s. Serendipitous. Glad you liked it. Reply
Roy Eugene Peterson March 7, 2024 These three clever creations are wonderful humor that made me shiver as I read them. Like the plagues on Egypt is both an apt and terrifying thought. I never thought Hawaii could be so infested as you described in your second humorous masterpiece. “The Reek in Review” is an overwhelmingly brilliant title for your third poem. Reply
Paul A. Freeman March 7, 2024 Those ants in the picture are what we generically call ‘flying ants’ in the UK, and swarm once a year. When I was a kid, my parents would clean the house carpets once a year. The carpets were out in the garden one year, all soaped up and…. you guessed it, the flying ants swarmed, hundreds of them sticking to the carpets. Thanks for three vivid creepy-crawly poems, James. Reply
Jeff Eardley March 7, 2024 Jim, this is the stuff of nightmares. I felt my skin crawling with every laugh out loud line. I love “residents” with “Presidents.” To catalogue such unpleasantness into great poetry takes real skill and you have proved, once again, that there are no flies on you. Brilliant!!! Reply
Gigi Ryan March 7, 2024 The final couplet of “The Reek in Review,” is wonderfully clever. I enjoyed reading these poems this evening very much. Thank you. Reply
Cheryl Corey March 8, 2024 These should have come with an advisory: do not read immediately before or after taking a meal. My own personal nemesis of the Class Insecta is the stinkbug. I found one on my bedroom floor a few months ago and almost picked it up, thinking it was a piece of fuzz. I dread it during autumn when they try (and too many times succeed) to make their way inside the window. If you smash them, they stink – ergo, the name. Yuk. Reply
C.B. Anderson March 8, 2024 Since you mentioned stink bugs, Cheryl, I thought I should tell you about a close relative (in the Order Hemiptera) we had in Arizona, called kissing bugs. They would come to your bedsheets at night and begin sucking the tissue beneath your skin, leaving big painful welts. Most of this order feed on plants. Reply
Cynthia Erlandson March 9, 2024 Not many poets could make disgusting things fun! Thanks, James! Reply
