Best Snooping Poems
Well, is this poem doing it for you?
Should I dress it up in black lace and garters
and shakily strut my stuff in haughty heels
for your emotional ********?
Just what I thought,
a pathetic poetry pervert,
another silent stalker
eavesdropping in the thick midnight,
snooping through shameful shadows
(hold on while I reapply the crimson lipstain)
Oh, you like it like that?
I’ll do whatever you need to get you to
feed and suck
on this saccharine heroin
Here, let’s get it over with
Slide the drapes closed will you?
Under darkness, over muffled traffic
come crawling wet mouth sounds . . .
That’s right
I just caught you gawking in shock
at the silhouette moaning my depravity
What, are you done?
Then roll back over
and let me shake in your vacant silence.
Black markings shade the space beneath green eyes,
for Friday night means football in these parts.
The name is Simon, snooping is my art,
my reg'lar seat's beneath two hefty guys.
There's plenty popcorn almost ev'ry time -
bits of sandwiches, chips and pizza parts.
When our team's doing good and scoring yards,
dessert is ice cream -makes my purr-er chime.
I share with Sugar, tablemate tonight.
Before the crowd leaves, we will scamper off.
Mix cats with water; there'll be a riot.
On Friday night, good food is my delight
but we get out before they hose the trough.
Game called for rain? means we're on a diet!
PETA snooping in
Calaveras County; frog
cannot jump
My name is Bond, Els Bond, and I live in Africa where I was born and belong.
On my continent, I do not work solo – my entire herd shares my mission mojo.
Here, many human lives are needlessly spent from illness meds would prevent.
Spying, I learned drug companies and doctors require green to become helpers.
My herd needs green vegetation so I tried human green as an exploration.
It upset my digestion, concerned me and launched my herd’s investigation.
Zebras meant well, monkeys and tigers did, too, so I gave them things to do.
I credit them now, though they fell apart over who was in charge of who
and could not recall instructions without many elephant-styled, memory clues.
In summary, we worked day and night gathering all in dire health plights.
For months we have brought humans to our camp, way out of snooping-sight.
Step one done, the other animals fell apart just as step two was due to start.
Ms. Currency-Cent, my assistant, helped me plan for any possible resistance.
Disguised as double-decker buses, we raided the city for all drugs in existence.
Many raids went down before a doctor and surgeon were found, then bound,
thrown in our trunks, taken to camp, where shaken, not stirred, they emerged.
Now they are too busy with the ill to feel any first waves of a selfish cave.
Tonight – step three: acquire a special hostage, not that we feel man can stop us, but to guarantee an eventual global mention of our elephant herd’s intentions: We wish media to showcase our success over medical greed’s endless feed.
As my bravest brother and sister elephants stand guard with grand eminence,
I am in route to kidnap a drug CEO while hoping this final plan is pure excellence.
My gentle, intelligent side now calls upon my side much braver
because there is one plan component my brain does not favor -
access to my target is only gained by an elevator.
Brian Strand's Personification Contest
December 11, 2016
Edward Snowden
When Edward Snowden* snowed in,
no one thought it a sin,
save the snooping sultans who froze.
When on the run or cubby-holed, for friends, he had only woes.
11 jul 13, Clerihew
* Eddy is a former NSA systems analyst who recently leaked details of U.S and British top secret mass surveillance programs.
The old goose is getting plump
Must be some special occasion in the offing
Oh I remember, that jolly old man
Will soon be riding into town on his sleigh
Pulled by eight happy boisterous reindeer
He'll be ringing his bell and singing
Those happy Christmas songs we all know so well
That have been with us for a lifetime
“Frosty The Snowman” and
“Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!”
Ahhh... those joyous memories of when we were kids
Waking up early on Christmas morn
But having to wait until Mom and Dad
Gave us the okay to tear downstairs
Our hearts overflowing with excitement
As we first set sight on the gayly wrapped presents
Piled high under and around the tree
What joy, what excitement
Breakfast??? Who could eat breakfast?
We were allowed to open one present each
But then we had to sit at the table for a good hearty meal
How cruel was that, a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast
We gulped it down and waited for the signal
That we could leave the table
And take our seats as our dear old Dad
Read the tags on each present out loud
When he called out our name, our hearts raced
We quickly ripped of the colourful paper
That Santa's workers had so carefully placed
And screamed out with delight, “I GOT IT!”
It was just what we had asked for
Santa must have had secret agents snooping around
What a time it was and what a time it is remembering!!!
© Jack Ellison 2014
He taught Bible study
at our local church.
Mother caught him kissing
her cousin, Marie, in the kitchen.
He groped cousin Anna
under the water
as we swam in the pond.
My thirteenth birthday, in his eyes,
meant that I was fair game.
I resisted, threaten to tell.
Again, Mother caught him
snooping to watch
sister and I in the shower.
A lifetime of dread
for the next shot.
when, or what, or who.
Always uncomfortable
in his presence.
Thirty-five years,
the ugly secret kept,
for Mother’s sake.
In my heart, sweet relief felt,
on the day he died.
In the backwoods of Virginia by a one room country shack
Stood a still that was a brewing that my Mama kept out back.
She kept a shotgun by the backdoor in an old potato sack
and when the travelers came a calling they brought money in a paper sack.
The bell tree was a blowing and you could hear that little ring
for a taste of that clear whiskey and the good times it could bring.
Now in the quietness of the night with a little light from the moon
Came the smoke that was rising from the making of the brew.
Mama had many names she called it and here are just a few...
Corn Liquor, Bush Whiskey, Hillbilly Pop, White Lightning and of course Mountain Dew.
It was warm when you drank it and had a kick like a mule
and if you needed resting you could sit on Mama's stool.
Now the lawmen would come a sneaking and try to find my Mama's brew
but the tin cans that were a hanging would alert her to the news
that someone was a snooping and trying to find her moonshine brew.
But out by Mama's shack was an old hole that she had dug
to hid her jars of whiskey from the lawman that came a looking for her special brew.
They ain't never found her whiskey...but I still know where it is...
and at times I sit on Mama's stool by that old bell tree
and have a sip or maybe two.
T Reams 1st Place
We lay bare next to the skin of the earth
watching mercury dancing around the restless sun
playing hide and seek in the burning heat
and penetrating mankind deception in the deep
Venus is orbiting the earth with its piercing light
casting shadows on the desperate arrows
and choking up the heavens
I don't know where they have laid him
but I can feel his current rumbling through the earth
ripping the stagnant river apart
and looking at the moon in the dark
I am sitting here waiting on the unknown
Heart throbbing billows rolling and
the deep blue sky is covering my head
The green trees are still standing tall
waiting for the anticipated fall
Saturn in riding on wings in big circles
it is the rock on which we stand
And it stabilizes the turbulent land
looking for the one who is able
to withstand its fiery hands
Jupiter has been murmuring for years
it has a storm that is bigger than our fears
twisting cold windy clouds over our busy head
erupting the emotions and stretching our legs
Neptune is invisible to the naked eyes but its
water and methane is fasten on solid ice
Uranus is filled with chemical composition
The confusion on earth is position on suspicion
Is this imagination or mere confusion
Mars has been snooping on us from the sky
Twice this week it emerges in plain sight
with its bright orange eye budging from the sky
I have mistaken it for the amber moon
But nature has declared a war to soon
Bees buzzing from the sky dropping honey in the kettle
Mankind queuing up in long lines waiting for a city that is divine
The mystery of life is yet to be found
It is buried somewhere beneath the blistering ground
Something is out there in the unknown
Waiting for the perfect time to make itself known
Earth with its formidable crust has finally open it guts
exposing its intricacy and laughing at us loudly
something more powerful than man lives in deep ocean
swirling and twirling like monster ready to devour
Oh how much I dread this conceited revelation
It is shaking the core of the hemisphere
causing death and destruction over the years
Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune
are bidding earth goodbye as they regroup in the sky
Life mystery is profound and it is found in the unknown.
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I seem to keep punishing Bo my naughty Golden Retriever,
He sneaks and lurks and is suspicious with Rosie our sassy cat,
My daughter says she caught them snuggling, I don’t believe her,
There’s no way Bo would be so gentle because he’s a silly brat.
Sometimes Bo can be generous sharing the family blanket,
Rosie gets irritable because God forbid she kindly share,
Although they are a nuisance, without them I wouldn’t make it,
When the night is over it’s cute to watch them play over there.
Rosie needs a new scratchy play house filled with kitty catnip,
Bo needs an absurd dog house to bask in the sun outdoors,
They both are so rambunctious especially when Rosie snips,
But at times they play excellent and I couldn’t ask for more.
My hubby is an engineer so he decided to build them houses,
It can get costly so he emits the second level to Rosie’s palace,
That darn cat was snooping around and found a tiny mouse,
But I could see that in her eyes she wasn’t showing any malice.
I appreciate my animals so I order an iota of yummy treats,
Orange and blue dog biscuits and tasty tuna filled pellets,
“Knock Knock!” on the door and they are so genial and sweet,
The neighbor says they’re admirable and that they seem angelic.
Yesterday my favorite purple iris was dug up by mischievous Bo,
He left a slanted kink and dragged it around the muddy backyard,
Even though they can be disobedient my heart will never let go,
My sweet fur-babies are so special, for I shall never disregard.
These 21 words were used: Absurd, appreciate, admirable
cat, caught, costly, emits, engineer, excellent, golden, generous, genial
iris, iota, irritable, kindly, knock, kink, orange, over, order
This poem took me 15 minutes to write
Date Written: July 8, 2016
...Oliver had saved up the cash
to buy into his employer’s franchise,
bought his own store, aggressively courted
every rancher in the countryside.
Soon enough the cash flow was well in the black,
so Oliver and the bartender wed,
bought their own house and were soon expecting,
he cared nothing for what the people said.
Jack, still drinking, played the Hollywood scene,
was a fixture of the wild nightlife,
soon he was in the tabloids again
when he knocked up a girl he knew one night.
He managed to keep working in film,
supporting roles were the best he could get,
with alimony and child support
he found himself slipping into the red.
When he crashed his car into his front door
he was quickly shuffled off to rehab,
in what would be the first trip of many,
the addiction had a grip on him bad.
But still he managed to get some work,
and when folks saw his face on the air,
they’d look at Oliver, mumbling how,
“That brother never went anywhere.”
Now Hollywood is a hot-bed of rumors,
and a disturbing percentage are true,
soon tales spread of Jack’s early acting days,
and all the things a new actor has to do.
Rumors of giving favors to producers,
insinuations of oral sex,
some said that was why her drank so damn much,
and why relationships left him vexed.
Whatever the case, on the internet,
the rumors became an ongoing meme,
his reputation thrown in the toilet
by GIFs and infographics obscene.
Oliver, back in fair Nebraska,
really had no reason to complain,
he had three kids and sold big equipment
to half the ranchers on the Sand Hills range.
Nobody was making memes out of him,
no reporters were snooping through his trash,
tabloids were not undermining his marriage,
and he was making more than enough cash.
He had six stores and a seventh coming,
and a hundred acres tied to his home,
a life or both family and friends sincere,
the general public did leave him alone.
The only thing that could worry Oliver
was what would happen to his brother Jack?
How many stars had walked down that same road,
and how many of them had never come back?
Though Jack’s state would weight hard on his mind,
and hear feared to see him drowning in despair,
Oliver couldn’t help but laugh at the folk
who thought it was he who was going nowhere.
We Are Being Watched
By Elton Camp
Most anywhere today that we happen to be
It’s likely we’re under some type of scrutiny
On streets and at stores, the cameras abound
Both outside and inside the devices are found
To that I personally have no serious objection
It surely helps authorities in crime detection
For an excessive invasion of privacy it is not
If it can help foil a theft or some terrorist plot
But an annoying practice that we all must face
On the Internet, our movements are traced
Even then some checking might be okay
If violent or treasonous things we start to say
If anyone, the president threatens to assassinate
The government has a right, the plans to negate
When the snooping is done for commercial gain
Some law should require from such to refrain
Assume that on the Internet every move u make
There’s someone who secret notice is going to take
Dragon sat in the bushes all night long, for he wanted to catch himself a Leprechaun.
See Leprechauns have gold by the buckets full, and Dragon wanted himself… some.
So our sly little Dragon had put a lit up rainbow, on our garage door, to be cast on…
St. Patrick’s Day was in the morning, and he wanted some of those golden charms.
He’d read: You gotta get up, so very early, to be able, to even a little, trick those guys.
For those wily Leprechauns are the cleverest critters, which were ever seen… to arise.
So Dragon had dressed up in the Irish green, topped with a cute little Leprechaun hat.
You see, Dragon believed he was, the slyest thing, put on this earth, here… ever… yet.
Sure enough, at the break of dawn… a Leprechaun came snooping, stealthily around.
Strangely, he looked about 3 years old, the same age of our Dragon, or there, around.
They hit it off immediately, with so much in common, at that tender age and time.
Finally together, they dug up the pot of gold, which the Leprechaun’s magic did rise.
They had decided to share the wealth, of any gold, they did hope to some how find
But darn, the Leprechaun was unhappy, at the small amount of gold before his eyes.
He swore our Dragon had dug it up early, and already taken his own share… after all…
Dragons were known to be the greediest things ever put on this earth, he did recall.
Yes, he’d seen thru Dragons disguise, and had seen the wily-ness of it all… so true…
So the Leprechaun threw a crying hissy fit, the likes of which Dragon had never knew.
He raged on and on, how his new best friend could ever think to cheat him, Boo Hoo!
Now, Dragon began to feel very guilty for what he had originally, truly, wanted to do.
So in the end he gave it all away, to his newest best friend, who left without an adieu.
At that our dear little Dragon, felt proud for what he had finally achieved and done.
That is until he looked at his own little bitty horde of gold… that was suddenly gone!
Yep the little Leprechaun, had stolen it fast away! With his magic he had transferred…
Dragons gold to the Leprechauns beloved pot! Now Dragon became enflamed at it all!
At what the Leprechaun had done… Until Grandpa Troll reminded him with the moral:
Don’t be surprised… if you get burned… when you play with fire, my little friend!
The End!
Written 3-17-2017
4/1/17
Flowers blooming
Spaced out or in a tight-knit grouping
All around things looming
In space objects still or moving and zooming
Birds pluming
And other animals grooming
Downloads queueing
Electronics in need of a rebooting
Or powering off, to enable cooling
Below, on and above the roofing
Toxins spewing
And other particulates polluting
Some of which are made for fueling
All weeds were removed by uprooting
Trees and bushes getting a pruning
Especially any areas that are drooping
There's just no excusing
You'd better stop snooping
And assuming
As well as tooting your horn
Or ridiculing the poor
What the hell are you fooling for
When deep down, you know you could be doing more
Ocean life caught by fishing poles, harpooning
Or cage using
Die hard fans rooting
Or booing
Times of booming
And continual losing
Certain insects and people cocooning
Humans continually feuding
Suing
And fuming
As if there is something they want to be proving
Major scale jobs, including
A lot of or very specific tooling
Drugs and alcohol others may be using
And possibly abusing
In the right conditions, water pooling
Near and far from any rocks protruding
Live a life of your choosing
Continue pursuing
Knowledge, and ways of improving
With or without musing
By: Dalton Ogletree
Yo bro. . . got what you said,
look in to put us poets to rest,
I've got news for you home boy,
This turf ain't big enough for the
two of us!
Get down and get your feet wet.
ain't no gods gonna help us and
that's a fact,
Play time is over Mr. Gravedigger,
Bring it on and lets show the world
a good fight!
Cool. .its show time,
for the guy with the Mic,
What's the hurry Mr. Rhyme,
scared you might miss your flight.
Heard you came back snooping
around,
with all the loud sounds and talk,
Told you once boy to be pretty nice,
Or you'll get a wrestling lesson you
won't soon forget.
I've got your name on my list and
draw,
pretty soon this town is gonna be a
bloody war,
pack up your bags and leave by the
back door,
Im not gonna tell you twice just
spare me the trouble.
this is dedicated to by jalani jenkins
for his Gravedigger poem
that got me inspired. . . so thank
you
my friend