Best Spy Poems
On the wall of a house I might be
Owned by *Brangelina Jolie.
There’s no real reason why.
I’m just one nosy fly.
Not to mention, Brad nude I might see!
House to house in each fine neighborhood
I’ll spy like a super fly should.
An “enquiring” mind,
Lots of scandal I’ll find.
As I fly over all Hollywood.
When I tire of the “stars,” I’ll fly to
Any place juicy plots might ensue.
Just beware. Flies like me
Are as sly as can be.
Right now I am looking at you!
*Brangelina refers to the coupleship of Brad & Angelina
I'm assuming they are still together?
For the Contest by Michael J. Falotico:
"A Fly on the Wall"
Fantasy Spy
Would that I, like a Monarch butterfly,
Could fly across the fertile land and spy,
Top tree and lilac bush in the evening hush,
Swooping down above the late traffic crush.
Then on to foamy shores I would wander,
Over firs and pines, dark forests below,
With graceful freedom across the sunset,
Over Key West’s mansion and beach to go.
I would see a pirate ship in the sea,
Rushing rudders futilely try to flee.
Storm clouds over thatched roofs on the Goal Coast,
Colorful dancers, busy merchants’ boasts.
Would that I like a Monarch butterfly,
Could fly across our wonder world and spy
I knew a spy who told me her truths.
She told me her lies so I could never surmise where the line lies, the line of the spy. The words and the eyes. The live and the die. The strange life it must be, the life of a spy.
I knew a spy who lived life a lie. Gambled with fate as easy as choosing the food that she ate. And would look at the dark like it was light. Would stand in the rain to camouflage the tears from her eyes. To stand in the rain to wash away the pain.
I knew a spy who would to me wink with her eye. Carrying a smile with long flowing hair and stylish in the clothes that she’d wear. But never a line did she cross.
Her life was a line, a line as sharp as a knife.
I knew a spy, I wonder where the sun shines on her smile. I wonder where the real person is free. What she gave to serve her country. I know she’s alive from the cards and messages I see with my eyes. But can she ever be free? I know that life wasn’t for me.
There was once an old woman,
Who lived in a small village,
Her name was Matilda Schoeman
Like Popeye, she only ate spinach!
One day she went to her Pastor,
To confess that her neighbor was
Always nude,
This is a chapter
Of my life I don’t want to end
Father, am I being rude?
The Pastor came to her house to see,
Saw nothing, oh yes, said she, but if you
Stand On my toilet seat
And put a milk crate on top, and kneel
On one knee,
I can see his weenie, now am I a cheat,
For I feel it’s a treat!
My eyesight is not so good, can not
Always see,
And do not recognize who he may be,
The Pastor looked up to heaven with glee,
So you don’t know said the Pastor,
And put down his half-finished
Cup of tea
Just continue to knit said he,
And under his breath said, thank you God
She does not know that the
Nude man is me!
POTW 28/11/2020
*** This Painting I Do ***
(A Devotion Poem for Jim)
It is my heart
Painting your portrait
Out over this paper
After I caught your profile,
When you weren’t looking,
Casting your attention
In another direction,
While I blended in
The colors of your chin,
And you hadn’t known that
I’d peeked over
Your well-kept
Walls of mystery, which
Usually…no, always even I
Do not cross…But
Today the artist, I,
Let my sight spy
To set down the contour lines
Of your portrait, which
I promise when completed
To then hide this artwork
From the view of anyone else:
Beneath a cross-hatched weave
Of a thousand tiny strokes
Of glittering beams of gold,
And shining rays of silver,
Stippled stars overall to consume
You — silhouetted by all the light
Of God’s gracing and
My loving heart’s way
Of seeing you.
———————————————————————————————
(C) sally young eslinger 12/10/2022
Thanks be to God…
———————————————————————————————
(C) sally young eslinger 12/10/2022
Thanks be to God…
The
self
portrait-
reflected
mirror of the mind
So many to look at just google the artist and words self portrait eg here is Joan Miro's
http://www.abcgallery.com/M/miro/miro20.html
Hoping around the colorful flowers
Butterflies perform dance for hours
Floating across the plain blue sky
They act as the archangel's spy
If they spot us grieve
Their feather colors they leave
Paint our monchrome thoughts bright
And make our worldly tensions light
If they see us smile
They too join the happy rail
With dragonflies and damselflies
Our happiness they amplify
Thus our archangel's spies
Perform divine tasks in the sky
And make our problems fly
September 20 2022
The clime without poets is like the soulless desert
Poets drew their dreams in the words of the mind
The morning without poets is like a sunless night.
Without dreams we have nothing to get high
Poets play with dreams and they are cool spy.
Poets bring the sunshine where has no daylight!
Those who are self-sacrificing poets
They are the golden sun in the world.
In the cloudy sky, I'll find that sunlight.
You write so many untold stories
You have so much love in your heart
You're warm-blooded and you're soft.
Sometimes you are calm and reposed
You're smell of flowers and the singing bird
You're shadow of evergreen forest!
Who'd do questions without a poet, who'll answer them?
Who'll think of nature and who'll love it like you.
The world in the evening, let the morning come.
It'll be a disaster anyway, even then here you come again!
a beauty untold
a faith untold to the weak
faith I've never met
Meet Dorothy the donkey
she has a weird googly eye,
when she’s staring straight at you
you will either laugh or cry.
For you see, whenever she
seems to be gazing ahead,
her crazy googly eye is
looking to her side instead!
If you think she can't see you,
you forgot her googly eye;
hard to believe, but it's true,
some say she's a donkey spy.
With her googly eye, oh my!
(Rhyme)
8/21/2015
She descended from a far away land
I was from the backwoods
She was my life and death
I was her lover boy
They taught me simple things
Beware of seductive pretty strangers
How to drive a car very fast and true
How to meander as a tourist in blue
To drop a note inside empty walls
To see my reflection in windows tall
To pick up this and that from here and there
Cross a border or two, if I dare
She moved into my dreams
They knew I was compromised
I knew not a thing at all
So I played the spy and the clown
East German prisons and needles
Russian doctors and dreams
Tomorrow sometimes never comes
Lucky me to be so old and dumb
In the basement of a side street
A Paris jazz saloon
I sat alone
As it dawned capon me
I have no one, I am the clown
The spy that never was
Photographs dancing in my mind
Lovers dancing arm in arm along the Rhine
Helsinki rendezvous
Swedish diplomatic moves
Vodka for both, a drunk white rose
The Russian red room was to be my tomb
I lost my lover
Pistol whipped and left for dead
Never be the spy and the clown
My only desire to touch the sea of Oland
Hope the hell I drown
Rainy days and clowns
Those days of cat and mouse
Left me alone in the old spies house
Hanging around
Saved the world
Lost my love
Time for me to cut my throat
Spies end up playing solitaire
Clowns end up alone
Fools drown inside vodka dreams
Lena still lives in my heart, weeping
Sonia Esmee Florence Butt ( work in progress )
The year 2014 comes to a close
Another unsung hero passed on, from a time long ago
Poets free to express our thoughts
Due to the bravery of Sonia D'Artrois
The day was may 28, 1944
A parachute and Sonia fell from the sky
Cropte, France, behind enemy lines
Her code name Madeleine, terrifying times
Explosives, and weapons, she understood
Training the Maquis to fight, in Charnie the forest hood
A woman who earned the respect of all around
For she was the leader of the underground
Great distances on Bicycle she would ride
Courier and messenger delivering supplies
Right in front of the Nazi eye
They never discovered this lady, Blanche the spy!
D'artois she met in the war in France
Explosions of love, this great romance
After D-Day, more explosions too
Many a Nazi was felled in his shoes
This British heroine when victory was assured
Across the sea to Canada she went
Married her lover
Met in danger, in the resistance of France
Notes Sonia d'Artois passed away on Dec 21, 2014 at the age of 90, a British woman who at a very young age joined the SOE ( Special Operations Executive ) She was parachuted behind enemy lines in France nine days before D-Day to lead a group in the french resistance (The Maquis) There she met a Canadian an officer in the Canadian army Guy d'Artois. They fell in love and later settled back in Montreal Canada.
It's scary dangerous out there,
this world sure feels so unsafe
There's constant conflict, uprisings and strife
Got me beefing up home security,
increasing my life insurance annuity
Me even had to start extreme vetting my wife
It's uber hazardous out there,
this country sure seems like a lawless place
There's constant violence, protests and soft ad targeting
Had to buy me a high-caliber gun,
added lots more cyber protection
Even started questioning the affiliations of close friends
It is what it is,
I'm learning to adapt
Be more wary, keep a watchful eye
My government needs me
to fill the intelligence gap
Guess you can call me a citizen spy
It's double red alert out there,
local communities with hidden enemies to trace
There's constant warfare of a multi-facet kind
Got bio, got religious
Got economic --- they're all insidious
I collected every conspiracy theory I could find
I'll be doing my part,
'cause threats are everywhere
Presume you're guilty in the blink of an eye
Just a patriot at heart,
will make you vanish into thin air
Unless you pledge to become a citizen spy
It is what it is,
you better learn to adapt
Become more skillful at knowing how to pry
Your government wants you,
so contact the authorities ASAP
Get recruited and become a good citizen spy
As a fly on the wall of Larry's domain
I would witness first hand the cause of his pain
Once I saw what I saw
Larry's Mother-in-Law
I'm sure that I'd never go back there again!
We have this guy who’s a covert spy.
This sneaky little runt is named Cy.
Like a fly on the wall,
this Cy can hear it all.
He knows all that goes on in this sty.