Best Spying Poems


Spying On Other Poets

Spying On Other Poets

On other poets, I am spying,
Politicians seem to be trying;
Must surmise,
Perceive lies;
Like telling stories and lying.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Your Spying Eyes

I caught you creeping around
with your spying eyes
Quick, furtive glances
betray your silent, stealthy movements
Human satellite camouflaging black cloud,
always in passing tear bursts,
secretly scans through a purse in my closet
Your dubious, devious actions
speak loud
Such churning, internal accusations
would make any insecure man proud
Furthermore, you compounded your fidelity lies,
when you installed web cam spying eyes
Privacy invasion of the worst kind — 
But, I caught you though,
looking through my bedroom window
with a telescope
I had a Philip Marlowe 
reconnaissance pro trailing you ...
sweet turn of the table
Let my diamond stylus disgust skip to the end,
this relationship is over ...
It’s time for me to unfriend
Here is some advice I guilt-freely give you: 
Your spying eyes
will never truly let you see inside
the heart of another person
Unconditional trust 
is the only way to ever off-site remotely know
what lay beneath the quilted hidden covers 
of someone else’s soul

Premium Member Spying On Neighbors

fanciest binoculars I have ever seen
spying on neighbors, so far unseen
love seeing that Daddy kick out his screen
hiding now, not as keen


Premium Member Spying On Santa

I saw red reflecting off flakes of snow;
as I stared out my window on tiptoe.
And I'm pretty sure I saw Rudolph's nose:
though it could have been a plane, I suppose.

I couldn't see his sleigh amidst the shadows:
but I knew that Santa Claus always shows.
And then, I heard bells jiggling, and I froze:
I'm spying on Santa; what if he knows?

I flew across the room in my bedclothes:
and closing my eyes, I pretend to doze.
What happened next, I can't rightly disclose:
let's just say spying's best left to the pros.

Spying Sky

Who is coming?

Who is going?

Spying,the Sky!

Spying On Me

While quietly sitting down
In one of the benches in Central Park,
Bewitched by a Sunny afternoon,
I saw something moving fast/
I imagined it was a ghost
That found refuge under a shadow
Of a lonely tree still standing
In the middle of the open field…

For a moment, I thought
That it was you spying on me.
Yes, the woman that silently hid
Behind a colorful mask,
Some time ago!
The one that broke my heart
And run away like a frighten thief
Almost caught
In the middle of the night…

In a starry and clear night,
Sitting again in the same bench,
I observed the bright full moon
And suddenly I heard a loud voice
Like somebody calling my name
And for a moment, I was afraid,
I thought it was you calling me
While hiding behind the moon…
Now, a question remains:
Were you the one spying on me?
Only time will tell
The day you come back to me!


Romeo Della Valle


Stop Spying On Me

just so your there
your everywhere
watching my moves
stop that grove
thats not cool
am know fool
let me be
STOP SPYING ON 
ME

Premium Member spying on our dogs

The dogs are in their pen
We have a new video app where we can watch them
We look into Joe’s cell phone at their usual places
No dogs

Did they escape?
I turn the video camera to the gate
Long sigh as I realize it is still bungee corded shut
Buddy is tall; I see his back walk past the camera

Is that a deer? My husband asks, looking over me
Maybe It’s a dog, I suggest
I look closer
Whatever he sees, I do not see
Nothing gets clearer with age

Premium Member Spying Full Moon

SPYING FULL MOON

everywhere I went, she was there—full moon peeking through the blinds at me…

Premium Member Spying On Faeries

While they do their snazzy dance
I sit quietly, holding my breath, enraptured.
Marveling at their poise and their daintiness.
The forest is quiet, the slow pop of the embers the only sound.
It would be a great night to hear an owl.
The queen senses someone is about.
I am a secret watcher, uninvited to this campfire dance.
I hold my breath, and remain hidden behind a felled giant oak.
The queen has stopped dancing.
Her opalescent wings show themselves.
I take off on a run, listening to my footsteps
Crunching against dried leaves on the forest floor.
Pursued by a faerie.

Premium Member Spying On the Ring Tails

There was a gang of ringtail weasels living down in the holler.
My mama knew it and said she would pay me a dollar
If I would go down and spy on them to find out their intent.
I told her I would do it if she paid me an additional percent.

A percent of the gold up in the attic? She asked.
I assured her this is what I meant, as I was masked.
I hid in the corner and heard those weasels chewing and burping.
They devoured rabbits, rodents, lizards, and now were slurping.

Their nests were in piles of rock piles, and one lived under the barn.
He was the biggest one, and scary, and I must say this is not a yarn.
He turned on his kin, and began to eat them one by one.
Watching this horrified me, and I was soon on the run.

A ringtail weasel has a keen sense of smell, and his sight is good.
He chased me home, as only a diabolical ringtail could.
I was scared to death and refused to leave the house after that.
I still have nightmares about it, at the drop of a hat.

The Fey Court of the Dead

Wearing green at full moons height 
Singing the song of fairy spite
As faeries dance in a ring
And as they sing their dreadful spell 
My head starts to nod,eyes heavy with sleep of the dead
My thoughts filled with the music of hell
I hear the shadows whisper beguiling words
Meant to drop me and take me under 
The flames dance high as I watch my fears made real.
So beware the beautiful song of rage on a midnight clear 
Sung by creatures fearful
This is the court of death.

A Beautiful Dance

I caught last night's performance though it wasn't meant for me
Thanks to Lily, Rose and Ivy for saving me a seat
Held in a private location far away from prying eyes
Reservations were not taken because it was not advertised 
Excuse my attire, I rushed straight out the house 
I received the news just prior to my evening workout 
But like a man on a mission with a twisted ambition 
I snuck into position with the stealth of a magician
Emotions were charged as the actors took their place
Your back a perfect arch, your flexibility on display 
Your silhouetted arms beckoning your paramour 
With the welcoming charms of a true ambassador 
A most beautiful dance fused with fire and romance 
A showcased performance with a captive audience 
Your partner so intuned that he never missed a step 
Leading you across the room, your arms secured about his neck 
Drawn in like a magnet from my perch I watched it all
Strained my eyes and neck until the final curtain call 
Would have shouted "Encore" but I was immobilized with shame
Not eager to applaud my own embarrassment and pain 
Wounded ego, aching muscles regretful that I pried 
Sliding down a wall of stucco bruised from inside

Premium Member Spying On Others

I am sitting at the secretary’s desk, the biggest conference score.
I am a voyeur today, thirteen screens, show the playgrounds and the door.
Thirteen screens showing parental visitors moving to and fro,
Screens that feature students with their moms, a great big picture show.
I watch them in the hallways, I watch them down the stairs.
I watch them twist and shout, I watch them flip their hairs.
Thirteen screens.  Movie popcorn is the only thing I lack.
So here I sit and watch, chuckling as I eat another snack.

Trump Is Denying Trying and Spying

Trump Is Denying Trying and Spying

There are many new things Trump is trying,
That at the same time he is always denying;
Sit in sun;
Nothing done,
And wonder who next on he shall be spying.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

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