Best Fly On The Wall Poems
Unlike the social butterfly
I am rarely even seen.
For I'm much more tamed
Than the rowdy teen.
Comfortably I sit and watch
All the commotion unfold.
Listening to all the drama
And stories that are told.
Although in the crowd
I might feel a bit small...
No way do I mind being
The fly on the wall.
A fly on the wall sees nothing at all
apart from the dung on which it will crawl.
But people will say I wish I were so,
then they could know what others don’t know.
Stare at the grifters, the losers, the cheats
while sitting quite still and sucking some sweets.
For life on a wall that is not your own
is palpably simple, when mud’s to be thrown.
But now we’re ALL flies caught in the wide web,
watch twenty-four seven our chosen celeb.
My wings are flight worn but I had to come correct
false history American classrooms have kept:
There was once a cherry tree I buzzed around
that George Washington never, ever once cut down.
I slipped on to Columbus’ ship and my compound eyes
can testify Columbus day celebrates a false founder.
I was laying in Marilyn’s shoe when murder occurred.
I have been in many binds because bats are not blind.
As a fly on the wall in the Oval, I scoffed, astonished
to spot Monica playing a harmonica. How is that taught?
An old expression,
“A fly on the wall”,
Means the walls have eyes
And ears to witness;
What is happening.
You want to know
Who’s talking, what
They say about
You and others.
You want to
Be a “fly”
“On the wall”.
You know
That they...
Talk.
If a fly on the wall I could be,
some celebrities I'd want to see -
like the ones that got missed
from Sean Diddy's guest list.
I'd get buzzed on a fact-finding spree.
Bugging homes in each fine neighborhood,
I would spy like a covert fly should.
My enquiring mind
would some cover-ups find
as I flew around all Hollywood.
Bored with wicked rich stars, I'd fly to
where the schemes of elitists I'd view.
Just beware. Flies like me
are as sly as can be,
and right now I am looking at you!
The fly on the wall,
Hears me call,
Your name as,
You tame the dame.
You are driven insane,
Because nothing done,
Freaky with me is mundane.
The fly on the wall,
Knows your name.
The fly on the wall,
Is eclectically entertained.
Our actions in the flies,
Mind is sweetly stained,
Because our ecstasy,
Is explained to that,
Fly as a necessity,
And in all of its eyes,
Compoundly good to see.
7-28-11
A fly on Oprah's wall.
I think I'll build an Oprah mall.
All of this money
And still no honey.
I'm bored, I think I'll buy Senegal.
I had a dream last night in bed
I was a fly on the wall overhead
But it was too real
No joy did I feel
I couldn't understand what was said!
What did the fly on wall see at the last supper?
Really! You say there were no flies on the wall during the last supper. How can you be sure? Okay, there’s more.
What a supper! I the fly, never witness such a meal. Never seen so many concerned and worried men in a small room. One would think, they hadn’t eaten in forty days.
The candle light was low and the voices also. The evening started out peaceful, but little did the twelve know, this night would bring a big show, that history would always know.
There was one betrayer at the table, who wasn’t eating. He had a worried look on his face, as if; he was late for a date. A short wrinkly face man, flipping a silver coin. He kept watching the sand dial with anxiousness.
Even I, the fly began to get nervous. I flapped my wings to cool myself for a moment.
As the supper was winding down, just before dessert was served, the wrinkly face man announced he had an urgent appointment, he had to attend.
The guest of honor said “Just a moment, before you go, don’t worry about closing the door. As a matter of fact, leave some room in your pockets. For this ungodly thing you are about to do.”
Powerful words, even for I the fly. The guest of honor was cool, calm and very collective. He said in a divinely voice, “this is the last super that I will have with you.” Now there were deep concerns, as quietness echoed the room.
A toast was proposed. Everyone has a glass of wine and a piece of bread; this would be a night known as the beginning of a testament.
The fly knows, what he knows, and he can attest to the facts. After the toast, all the men formed a circled, holding hands with heads down, and whispering Amen…
As a matter of fact, there never has been, nor will it ever be, a night like that night.
This is not a fly story, but a story, 'The Guest of Honor' died for.
Dr. “G”
Last night I had a funny dream,
It really made me laugh;
I dreamt I was a fly on the wall
As Jim Morrison had a bath!
I heard him sing his famous songs
That went to number one,
But when the bubbles in his bath dissolved
Was when I had great fun!
With all the myths that surround this star.
I can only say one thing,
With no bubbles left, I could tell,
Why he was called "The Lizard King!"
It seems I may not need to be
A fly upon the wall,
For so many folks are ready to
Reveal their all in all.
Innumerable tell all books
And gossip magazines
Are ready to print the stuff that once
Was kept behind the scenes.
You can go on line and whisper
All the secrets that you know,
Or show your private moments
On TV reality show.
For a trifle of notoriety,
There is nothing they won’t say.
If you want to peek in other’s lives
It’s not too hard to do today.
When I was young, the party line,
Was the local gossip’s toy.
If you mentioned something secret,
It would fill her heart with joy.
It would come back to you the next day
And would have been enlarged a bit.
Your sad secret is much juicier
When someone else is telling it.
I would like to have been listening
To The Sermon on the Mount,
To be sure that Matthew had it right
In his remarkable account.
Or to have heard with my own ears
Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address.
That’s something that an humble fly
Could not appreciate, I guess.
I am glad some human stood there
Who could write it down for me.
We have the written word to thank
For preserving history.
To witness the secret conniving,
to hear of grand plans
made on behalf of others
‘For the good of all’ –
the absurdity of it in the face of disinformation –
the whispered schemes by the vain leaders.
Ah, the illusion of significance in their small universes;
gaining nothing, understanding less.
Yet, I long to be a witness to their follies;
I wish I were a fly on the wall.
Fly on the Wall
I am the fly on the wall
I am seldom seen but I hear all
I watch your life like spectator sport
I want your love but always fall short
I am nothing special to win your heart
I am simply too plain we are worlds apart
I don't have your money or you're charm
I will never be the girl on your arm
I wish things were different I wish you knew
I wish that you loved me like I love you
Rep. Kevin McCarthy is powwowing
with Pro-Trump, QAnon-loving kook, Greene.
The big contentious meeting!
So is he taming Jezebel as we speak?
Nope, they're having a wonderful dinner,
eating with plastic utensils; no sharpened knives
to slice and dice each other up with.
Oh, and Greene keeps the job McCarthy gave her!
It's all love between the two!
They're playing thumb wars and patty-cake
and rhapsodizing about you know who, bantering about
who loves him more.
No raised voices, just friends "catching up"
The punishment? ha! What punishment?
That's up to the Senate Dems.
Sorry to report, McCarthy will not lower the boom
on controversial Greene and cross Corleone,
oops, excuse me, wrong Don!
They'll wrap their meeting
video-calling the right one,
and they'll exchange I-love-yous
Move along, folks.
There's nothing
to see here...
Date written: 02/02/2021
‘Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’ – Molly Ivins
A fly on the wall; a listening bug, if you will, ha!
Over conversational buzz I hover
oh, the grift and greed I discover.
Did you know the common-man-ripoff
is a state sponsored affair? (Gasp!)
Elite pockets; cold in the snow job
if not lined with heat of poor money. If
mouthparts spoke, I’d sip rot to tip truth; a spy
for the small fry, not for rooting media piggies
… for who would suspect a lil ole drone like me?