Long Reconnaissance Poems
Long Reconnaissance Poems. Below are the most popular long Reconnaissance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reconnaissance poems by poem length and keyword.
Adroit Android
Somewhere between the outer limits and twilight zone
Operating within acceptable parameters of functionality
Sam Android, according to his name plate
Etched along his metallic neck and back
Came from outer space with an agenda
He did not come to serve mankind
He did not come in peace, either
This android had something other on his mind
Programmed by another species
In their image and intelligence
Sam Android gathered information of a certain kind
Reconnaissance of metals is what he is exploring
Shopping for refined alloys and powders
Our scientists wanted to dissect him like a bug
To see what makes it tick with little love and lots of tricks
Androids do not like to be touched by strangers
Clearly printed in the manual he came with
Our technicians studied it and everything found on his space ship
Before they flipped its switch and turned him on
Once activated, there was no off switch, no turning back
Sam had two bright cobalt eyes that came alive
Absorbed everything in sight
In that cold and calculating way of extraterrestrials
It moved quickly with precision and intellectualism
In a nice calm voice it told the soldiers and scientists to move back
When they did not, and by the way, it only said it once
Then opened fire with a laser gun
Penetrated all the walls of the facility of knowledge and higher study
We learned a potent lesson about adroit androids from outer space
They are clever, savvy, do not like to be touched
Or say things twice
We must listen to our cosmic friend
Who could not have been more succinct and clear
Before it blew our buildings and men away
He came here for the metals and other alloys
Communicating with eloquence and in good form
Androids are adroit, programmed that way
"The Resurrection of Writing a New Book"
Insular, a new world begins
from the inside it serves its Saviour
reconnaissance is the betrayor
incesscent it speaks non-stop
in cloudy roadmaps it stomps
unstoppable
the regiments read on
instructions they march
unhindered reviewers across
what is seen on a tethered cross
translation cuts
it throws its shining arsenal almighty
from the crowned heart
where the sharp thorns bloom
it writes its illuminescent stories
across sorry lips that try to speak outwardly
the synopisis is parched
the mind with arms outstretched
looks upwards for heavenly relief
upon the rolling hard edges
of burning Wormwood
where forgiveness is peaced
the measure of compassion
is largely pierced
confessions are heard and lost
on the brevity of a dead end
and that is how the Light gets in
dreams like this
are the resurrection
for writing a new book
the new exit strategy
before it is too late
dreams like this
are the resurrection
for writing a new book
before it is too late
dear Poet of The Day
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding"
Khalil Gibran
(alternately known as the Doubting Thomas Crown
Taj Mahal Cupid Affair)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Fortunate (for me) thee bona fide "FAKE" Cupid
(aka Decoy Donald Duck
and side kickstarter Jay Rad,
colluded donning one alias,
which (former and latter)
amounted tube bing disguised incognito
as the cingular "Ivan Ha Bea Robber Baron),"
while same above placed
their System Of A Down on high alert
whereby, they unwittingly, fortunately,
and accidentally discerned disquieting "noise"
i.e. static electronic crackling
purportedly from nemesis, asper sans above
whereby broadcasters colluded
confusingly, congruously, and convincingly
as thee infamous digital (duplicity)
faux "Big Mac" Trump.
The chalkboard scratching, hair sprayed bouffant,
and knuckle crackling
appeared tubby the handiwork cleverly disguised
(as tinpot dictator antics of Moscow's version,
sans Putin on the ritz),
which decrypted garble (a fluke) as iterated above
strongly emanating via polygamous,
prestigious, and pseudonymous
pull no punches ploy
innocently convincing feigned
duo code named "Ashley Madison and Bert"
disclosing (when uncovered),
a heartless conspiracy in concert
with Sesame Street studded lesser known Muppets
pretending tubby oil tycoon Bedouins
intent to fleece "sensitive"
top secret military defense contracts,
which Russian motley crue ace double agents
intended this act of espionage thence sabotage
feted as a Black Sabbath Lupercalia feint
not for the faint hearted clubby fete
where Cupid given free rule of the roost
allowing, enabling and proffering
Cyrillic chattering Cherubim
hook cooked United States "figurative goose"
lock, stock and barrel, which stratagem
captured president unawares
and did significantly boost
Eastern Bloc reconnaissance (on par
with the Philadelphia Eagles
winning 2018 Super Bowl LII
which surprise clenching championship
wrought frenzied hoopla, gala, and bacchanalia
where barenaked ladies
cavorted nsync with beastie boys,
whence City of Brotherly love hoopla found
nearly every man, woman and child soused
(analogous to each person garnering
an early Sainted Patrick's pot of gold.
Encamped in the local IHOP patio
Doing reconnaissance on the butter pecan syrup
I discern its malicious, aggressive intentions:
To march defiantly down Mt. Stack
And wage a ruthless attack on
Defenseless over-easy eggs
Acting quickly, I wield my fork
Digging trenches in my pancakes
I flank the enemy, staving off
This unprovoked act of aggression
Victory!
Only in that moment do I lift my eyes and notice
A brood of young sparrows
heralding their hunger
The chevron of hang-gliding geese silently
sailing to destinations unknown
Majestic Monarchs flitting
stoically southward
And rival suitors:
An iridescent hummingbird and an industrious bee
Romantically pursuing myrtle blossoms
The canopy of cerulean blue
And all the life within its realm
Resolves my thoughts from war to peace
Note to self:
Don’t forget to look up
**Edible Delight**
Terzanelle
I crave her culinary delight
Hungry, her dish served over wine.
I crave her culinary delight
My senses tingle when she whines.
Short and busty, I am lusting
Hips and curves, sublime as I dine.
Bursting with pleasure, adjusting.
Free agent signed a one night deal.
Short and busty, I am lusting
Innocence with much sex appeal.
Charming this vivacious hostess.
Free agent signed a one night deal.
Exploring on reconnaissance
this mission is almost complete.
Charming this vivacious hostess,
with an ass good enough to eat.
I crave her culinary delight,
this mission is almost complete.
I crave her culinary delight!
Triple Senryu
Manicured fingers
perfectly pedicured toes
moans, sultry whimpers
Green eyes glazed over
motionless in ecstasy
ready for round three!
Tanned legs quivering
bed sheets now rest on the floor.
Enough? I want more!!
Jared Pickett
2/22/2014
Asavvy1
Circle in the sand could tell a story
of a lost world, where celestials and machines
were one.
A crafty place where symbiosis is tasted
on the tongue.
Chimera epoxies elysian forgeries,
ruins, blistered and urned
by the seasons and the sun.
Cogs turning in the Temple of
Desperidium.
Wraith of translucent heat layers, reeling as film,
screen of video player stealing the image
of vesselic seal.
Black wings covering the eye of the past in-echoed Artisan-
lens cap, loosed, by
gait of prose and print of boot.
But it won't, divulge its secret cache,
of high hand, poker face,
in sign language-of cornerstones plans
laid from.
Jacobs Ladder Inn-hiding,
drone wave form.
A fleeting glimpse of visage,
visitage of what will soon again re-spawn,
kit of kingdom come.
Masking, its schema in paved,
mapping in hum of ley-line amathema,
violet band in tardigrade.
Petrified rainbow relic in the strata,
its soil forgotten in mind shade.
Like black chute of night blooming mushroom,
bubbles up, defiant creation,
pharmakeia l.e.d balloon parabolic ort-asm,
phantifuge,
sailing its wave of rebellion in bloom.
Renaissance reconnaissance recognizance
frequency of insanity of fallen ones
that denies their death row doom.
Tower of Babel has one foot in the grave
and one lit up in stereo- fm,
in the netherealms of CERN/Hades
a portal seeking to pierce the veil,
as a mitochondria drill.
They seek to house themselves in your temple
and corrupt the windows to your soul.
"Within the Contained Behemoth"
we think we travel
strange universes
in our planetary
reconnaissance devices,
transporting initial
contact communication
for exporting
potential new lives
for resettlement,
perhaps we are the
internal world
of God,
we are
the good
and the bad
of an otherwise
invisible being,
a central life source
we cannot see for dreaming,
because
we are
part
of the internal sum
immersed
in the body
of something much larger
and we,
we are like
nerve cells, along which
impulses received
from other cells at synapses
connecting, are transmitting
to the larger bronchi,
travelling through
the trachea we
give breath and voice
to lungs that appear
like a galaxy,
perhaps we are just
crystalline allergens
we are antigens
and dust particles
debris to be
removed with
antibodies to keep
the larger life
genetically
alive.
perhaps the code
not in us, but we,
the code within
the larger, are the
internal messengers,
contracted
like a virus,
eternally mined
within the
contained Behemoth,
conscious of its time,
it is, sustainably recycling
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Picturesque holy visions nature’s lands
Horizontal those the views
Elongated greens, mid color trees hands green
Bodies’ trunks grey, black and brown vibrant m
Upper tier skies written painted moving whites dots
On blue stationary canvas
Beauty sounds the tweet carries in the air;
Crisp summer breath
So sweet the heat barefooted are the feet
I walk in seven inch fine grass
So lovely are the trees
Conversing to one another
Waving in the vibrations
~
To each of its sisters and brothers
Beautiful wildlife in compass
Running green grasses under a rampant skies
So crisp clean the air the butterflies cries
Delighted in the tranquil stillness such is life, a life is breathe
What is left clouds? So lovely are the trees
Caterpillar running on moisten leaves
Just darts the rabbit he hops along out of harm’s way!
Deer’s peering eye to eye
Antlers locked about bumping heads challenges
Where translate beholden th’ swollen hill
Covered the red clay dirt fiery boast
~
Green, green hills valley brine
White marshmallows puffs in the skies
So much am I in love with the view
A nature canvas, ’vr natural
Shape shades of greens rolling hills of bladed dews
Who am I to question with my nostrils nor my eyes?
Embracing I am the land set before me
Ever friendly all the lawn those greens
All so friendly waving are the trees
So adorning, I’m exploring my host
Nature’s beauty my senses embrace up close
Yields of country lands reconnaissance
~
Observant pleasant picturesque inviting
Climbs even the breeze, nature grows continually
Naught disturbs thy quiet, all to thy service yields,
I naked ankles down I walk I crush the grasses
Sweet soft small animals scurry away unto me,
For am I not the caretaker
For am I the gardener
For am I the gardener
For am I the gardener
I partake of my visions view
I am the caretaker of my view
Upon my eyes all is well and natures beautiful
For am I the gardener
I partake of my visions view
8/9/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
We'd made a dawn start that day, following in his footsteps, as
apparently Jesus used to get up early.
Our group had gathered for a reading, and to pray, along with
fruit and cereals our first staples of the day.
The good Lord had gifted us a painted morning of Coeruleum blue,
and a warm spiced breeze flossed my smile.
I turned and watched the city for a while.
Amidst the pink and beige jigsaw of the old city, the Dome of the rock
had caught the morning rays and was now bragging about it,
shamelessly blinging,
competing with the shouts of Minarets
and Church bells ringing.
Few things can compete with an Israel morning, but you did.
Perched like an Owl on a low wall, cross-legged, your head moved
from side to side, scanning the mount, sharing our glass,
drinking the moment.
You wore white cotton, an arm hung with beads, an evil eye bracelet
and what looked like a Kara, glistening.
Styled by the Gods, with three quarters of a straw hat
wedged in the bricks.
And then I found myself before you,
Lord knows how, and I was trying to remember how my mouth worked.
Your head cocked to one side you watched me for a while
then nodded me a soft hello, and finished with a smile.
Ice broken, we gathered intelligence- you, a 'gap year Guerilla'
on a global reconnaissance , armed with just a shoulder bag and a credit card.
Me, a lapsed Catholic with an empty soul, seeking a childhood faith long discarded.
A shout from the tour guide burst our intimate bubble and I retreated,
backwards, gesturing, as if in the presence of a Shah.
She waved back, almost lost her balance, and a gust of wind would
have placed her gently among the sleeping of the Kidron
if she hadn't grabbed her hat.
And that was that.
I went back to the wall that evening, and the following morning,
I don't know why- she'd be bathed in the rose of Petra by then.
For a short time I was bereft, and stood, fittingly, before the
Basilica of the Agony, and then sat on our wall,
to watch the chosen wake up.
I think my soul woke a little, just then.
For God had left me with a little bit of love.
Unrequited, but worth hanging on to ,
worth building on.
It's been thirty five years, and in those occasional quiet places
I still think of you
For contest 'Love in a far off place', sponsored by Frank Herrera
22nd July 2015
I sense you lurking and searching, just hanging in the backdrop.
Waiting, anticipating a spiritual eavesdrop.
My vision is clear, as I only need my first eye. The other two only serve as confirmation of the presence of a spiritual spy.
My spidey senses are tingling; the detection alert is on "Red." A schematic reconnaissance is in motion; the subject is carefully read.
There's nonstop monitoring and spiritual gazing.
With spies listening and peering,
For intel and character smearing.
Their mission is clear: to steal, destroy, and kill.
My! What a baneful bastille.
But salvation and freedom of sovereignty reside deep inside.
And there is a mighty fight against evil tides.
Free will is bestowed by the most high,
Meanwhile, dark spirits still lurk and spy.