Best Spies Poems


Premium Member China Spies and Lies

China Spies and Lies

Concentration camps in the north
disappearing book sellers in the south
Chinese spies hunt one and all
Army of thieves , worldwide

Zhao Ziyang, where is he?
erased from Chinese history
where is the brave young man
who battled one thousand tanks?

Xu Jiatun, where is he?
erased from Chinese history
truth has no play in China today
only death and propaganda reign

Xi Jinping, crimes against humanity
Lu Shaye, propogandist to the core
Leaders of a revolution long dead
corruption their cause, their only rules

Coal plants and cigarettes
Keep your silences
even you may lose your breath
This is China, spies and lies

Jailed Activists
Ai Weiwei
Bao Tong
Bao Zunxin
Cai Lujun
Chen Pokong
Cheng Jianping
Gao Zhisheng
Guo Quan
He Depu
Hu Jia
Huang Qi
Ilham Tohti
Jiang Lijun
Jiang Rong
Jiang Yanyong
Jiang Yefei
Li Hai
Li Zhi
Liao Yiwu
Liu Di
Liu Xiaobo
Qin Yongmin
Shi Tao
Tan Zuoren
Tang Baiqiao
Wang Bingzhang
Wang Dan
Wang Quanzhang
Wang Xiaoning
Wang Youcai
Wei Jingsheng
Wu Gan
Xu Zhiyong
Yang Jianli
Yuan Hongbing
Yue Xin
Zeng Jinyan
Zhao Changqing
Zhao Lianhai

Two Spies Meet

Two Spies Meet - May 6, 2018

“Tonight we rendezvous by the gallivanting roses,” 
Said she with a Français hypnosis. 

With a head a’shakin’ like a dog,  
I acquiesce with her request. 
But was I blind to the consequences? 

Before I could protest, 
Away was she with finesse. 
Overcome I was with a gnawing stress! 

This situation so rare, so unique, 
Little did she know, 
This was all planned to end bleak! 

Nightfall arose from across the horizon, 
And stars like bullet holes wounded the skies with their light. 
I came with steps so nonchalant, so quiet. 

“‘Twas the place of gallivanting roses?”
Said I with an inquiring focus.

‘Round I gazed with monologue,
“Maybe she already knew?”
“Could it be that the information went a’strew?”

By and by I grew precarious,
I couldn’t help but feel I was involved in somethin’ nefarious!
The situation was growing ever so serious.

This situation so rare, so unique,
Little did he know, 
This was all planned to end bleak.

The sound of a muffled bullet sang out into the air,
And the bullet hole wounded his skull with it’s painful despair.
I had come with steps so nonchalant, so quiet.

“This is what you get when you’re a spy for hire!”
“A bullet to the head when you’re plan is to backfire!” 

Fleeting into the night in a state of pure ecstasy,
“He really should’ve been acting more tentatively...”
© Laura Simm  Create an image from this poem.

Bridge of Spies

I fight for the word of law, not a governments meaning 
No easy choices here just right or wrong
Its man's right to stand tall , let no other stop him
If one man is right with his thoughts , thousands can be wrong 
defend that man's human rights above all 
you may take my freedom , but you will never imprison my mind
No nation can resurrect a life and no nation should take one 
The future may hold untold truths or opportunities to save a soul
don't let a politicians pride decide a nation or a man's fate
whether you are a prince or a pauper I will save you 
not the coldness of their words or the chilling wind can stop justice
my name is  Donovan and i will see you on the bridge of spies .


Spies

They are everywhere,
yet you cannot notice them.

They have blended so well
with unsuspecting public,
like a drop of ocean
in a river.

Nothing escapes their senses-
they are so keen that they
can hear their heartbeat
when everything around is loud.

They have good sight too;
they see culprits' tomorrow
before the innocent turn
to culprits....

Premium Member We Hid In the Cottonwood Tree

We hid in the cottonwood tree’s magic treehouse.
Spying on our neighbors.
Laughter rang out occasionally from the windows of some of their houses.
We clutched our stomachs and laughed.

Mr. Pete gave his wife a big hug at their house.
We all went, Oh, yucky!
We were eleven, and loved the height of our tree mansion.
Feeling like detectives, or FBI agents.

Eleven is such a magical time.
We used to haul all kinds of pillows up there.
It was my reading nook. On reading days, I was
off with pirates, or Pippi Longstocking, and we
were on the sea, which I had never seen
in real life,

but imagined
was quite
wonderful.
You can never get 11 
back, so please enjoy it!

Brolley Hit

Brolley Hit
Give me something small
No big bomb or aircraft carrier needed
A little virus on the tip of a pin
Ready to inject you viral death
Not fall down dead a few days
Starts with a fever then more
Doctor thinks it’s a cold or flu
It's a bit more serious but shhh!
Don't alert the authorities
Before the operative escapes
Another KGB hit on a scientist
More Cold War superpower woes
Daggers in the dark jab a scientist
On a Manchester bridge with a brolley
How else to stop the weapon programs?


Spies

His life is now constantly watched
What has he gotten himself into
They locked him away in the nuthouse
All he did was love but he was not loved

She was beautiful he loved her
We spent many evenings together
Had many happy times together
Until it changed his love got into drugs

She bought from dealers
She slept around 
There was no more love for him
She eventually found the one for her

Late past midnight at the drive in
he waited and followed them
Back to their place 
he entered in the front door


A pistol with a bullit 
And end the fellow 
Who stole from me
he quickly said
You take my love
I take your life

The police found him
Now he will be watched forever

On Government Spies

on government spies
kill or be killed is the rule,
same for terrorists

Spies of the Heart

spies of the heart

open locked doors

find unspoken dreams

unheard wishes

fantasies beyond ones wildest imagination

spies

spied upon my heart

displayed pictures of my soul

found hidden joy

and created new scars

spies

whispered sweet nothings in my ear

encouraged me to trust and to feel

to dream of a future

they promised me the world

spies

spit in my face

they defecated on my dreams

laughed at my loyalty

turned my world upside down

spies 

they are unwanted

unwelcome

leave me be

you have no home here

spies

fade into the distance

i dont want your future

i dont need your dreams

i encourage no feeling 

spies

erase your hold on my heart

my life

my soul

goodbye

Premium Member Rahab the Harlot

Who would have thought that scarlet thread would save you, 
hung from your window ledge close by our harlot bed. 

You own that Inn, built into Jericho’s thick and stone built wall.
Who would have thought the God you feared, 
with army’s last triumphant trumpet blast,
would cause that wall to fall. 

That same windowed wall shows faces of the men you bed 
while rooftop flax dries in the sun, and money from that sex, 
and money from your flax cloth spun, hard earned to feed your family, 
hard earned for all, hard won, hard earned for one and all.
 
And now the terror of that tribe, whose fear of God-reknown 
has gripped your town and now knocks on your door. 
Not another customer, 'dear', but spies that come before your dread, 
before each stone comes rushing down,
before those stones crush every head,
before the curse to make your town no more.

Who would have thought to place your name with Sarah's faith 
when in haste you hid those men in rooftop flaxen den, 
and bargained each for saving lives before invading men 
would come again. Yes, should spies go and not be found, 
they would surely come again, burning Jericho to the ground.

Who would have thought in time to see your name with Judah's lion. 
No longer harlot's shame but in mother-line to Christ our Lord 
whose faith, with Sarah and with Abraham, 
in Hebrews and in James, is something we acclaim,
beside those greater honoured names in faith's fine hall of fame.
 
Who would have thought your scarlet thread,
perhaps snatched from your shameful bed, 
would win acclaiming faith and save those souls most certain dead, 
your work that saved through faith, both work and faith,
with saving grace, saved losing of your head.

That day the saving scarlet thread was seen,
and also bloody red, from hand and foot and thorny crown, 
and holding all your harlot’s blame, and all your harlot’s shame,
your Christ dropped bloody scarlet threads, dripped quietly to the ground.

Thus Rahab takes a finer name, that name above all other names, 
and through her line, and scarlet thread, 
shall rise with Christ's own rising dead.

Odyssey Spies

This town has eyes,
The stars will weep their darkest tears tonight.
They'll watch us like hovering hawks.
Tempting, tempting still.
Who could dream that this fever was only a glance away?
But they will be the straps that bind our wrists.
They whisper that people like us aren't allowed happy endings.
Pull me from the spider webs of our selfish society.
I can't help but think I've been tethered too long.

I have seen the very depth of this legend.
They thrash their arms and fling us like a throng of 
Drunken sailors on a precarious chiffon ship.
Quiet, they say. Keep quiet.
Who will tell them that their gossip sounds like fire.
We waited and worried but you know not what stays
Reeling inside my head like a severed sadistic carousel.
Unspoken, left unsaid.
You worry that you cannot touch them.
That the phrases you speak with your fists will never be heard nor felt.
We'll awake in the morning to watch the trash flow through the streets.
Not forgetting that this city is already in ruin
But not wanting to remember any longer.

Ring Camera Spies

See them gather around you, observing everything that you do, see them on top of the tree, listening to your heart beat and measuring your speech. 

See them sitting underneath the tree talking about your destiny, The wire is running around you and a pudding pan is sitting next to the door and the sharks are slowly creeping up on the shore. 

Look out for the bulldozer and the practicing medical doctor; he has a clinic across the street, an office in the basement and a house rising towards the heavens.  

He spends his time in the corner bar and on Sunday’s he cuts the lawn; he has a house keeper and a butler and a young man to play the violin when his emotions grow dim. He is an artist and a practicing physician.He plays golf on Monday morning and sees his parents in the evenings; he is a jack of all trade but a master of none. 

See them driving around the town in big vans and luxury cars giving handouts to pigs and goats and a box cutter wheeling at vendors' throat. 

I can see them from afar walking around the garage searching in the corners, throwing out tries and lubricated oil. Old rusty muffler piling upon muffler and old radiators spilling corrosive water. They are testing the old cars with a wrench and a screw driver and an artificial bulldozer. 

See them standing around the back wearing old pants and old frocks, spreading out on the floor and knocking on doors. More than a hundred of them standing at attention walking around in the back yard looking for a brawl and the pigeons kept flying around the tree moving straw from the wild berries. 

Then came in the big birds flirting in the tree top, with thunderous voice screaming at each other. They are dropping pebbles, walnuts, almond and cherries on the ground and the beggars are gathering around the town. What strange phenomena lurking around, grumbling in the background. 

See them going up in the air, you can see them everywhere, gas balloon surveying the moon and the high priest floating in the sky recording everything they hear.

 See them gathering in the street making rhythm with their feet, the ring camera is running around and Santa clause is coming to town. See them looking at you from the window.

Crap Job

Crap Job
I’m endlessly told be grateful you’ve got a job
But I’d love to pick another slave to do it
So they can experience the bull I do
And feel the way I do about this crap
Day in day out on and on like a joy ride
But there’s no fun here just stress and crap
The job is classified but that means nothing
My job still exists even if it’s deniable
I’d love to go into details and explain
What we must do every ing day
But then I’d have to kill you or you me
For you’d be doing my job the new slave
In the same way I got this job long ago
I asked a person about their job
And they told me in full confidence 
Their death put the stripes on me
And I’ve followed their hidden work
For the last four or five decades
Soon I’ll pick a new replacement
Maybe it will be you…




MAJOR INSOMNIA
CORPORAL SLEEP
Nick Armbrister and other writers

Premium Member Tv Super Spies

The super spies of TV are amazing
They know how to use every weapon in sight
What they do to each other looks like hazing
And their fantastic car chases are a delight

Premium Member Fear of Big Brother

Only the top Air Force and Navy brass
Know of our treaty with alien planets
Authorized by Eisenhower to capture and study humans
As payment for sharing their advanced technology with the USA
Shelly stopped typing and stared at her paragraph
Would Big Brother censor her if she shared it?
Would they eliminate her and her family?
Two hours later a SWAT team knocked down her door.
They carried her off into the night.
She was screaming, but the neighbors pretended to hear nothing.
As fearful of Big Brother as she should have been.

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