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Mary Frances Dec 2017
I took the seat across and breathe deeply
Trying to ignite the will to last the night to make it easy
Folios with galloping notes reflected my eyes
Ascribing them as you started rippling nice

Taking your place behind those keys
while I guard the front as it seems
You fiddled the catguts, and I learned their secrets
And as you edify, I got lost in the sequence

You exuded the decree to keep my valiance
I lodged around the shadows keeping my silence
Risking the chance that was left of me
As I chant the cadence with complexity

I ogled before you with such esteem
As my mind creeps alone towards glaucous dream
Wishing that in every thing written in the sky,
You will always be my Marshall and I am your Spy
Gabriel burnS Oct 2017
Too good and yet true
Too beautiful
To taste
Without falling in daze
Without following
Delirious
An aroma trail of craving
On the back of my tongue
I’m getting equal measures
Of heaven and hell
Perfectly balanced

My eyes are my traitors
Plotting to open the gates
Sending stowaway warriors
Whom I never gave orders
To slip behind walls
Of thickest black pupils
In the Trojan horse
That my eager look is

And gazes are bridges
Unwillingly
Supporting the siege
Of epiphanies
You and me
Caught in our ambush
Completely surrounded by Us
Seema Sep 2017
A battle building within
Enforcing a war zone
With their spirit, their soul in
Simulating the sins unknown

Another person linked by mind
But they are what others define
As the sages of demonic kind
Of what they believe and refine

They say every human has a third eye
Located in the center of their forehead
But none to believe in the fact, why?
There is no evidence of such when people die

I guess it's the sixth and common sense
That is referred to as the third eye
Visually hidden but lays in the dense
A raider sense that acts like a spy

I keep away from such weird sages
As we all have a sense of awareness
It's good to read about them in pages
Then to be brainwashed to self unfairness...

©sim
The self proclaimed human gods.
a bongo
twist and
cast this
strip that
gleefully carom
through pastures
where shepherd
has fallen
asleep while
they deforest
the fringe
only to
carry their
cold shoulders
with frills    
that spy
with Putin
bongos are deer there in Africa
Gabriel burnS Jul 2017
me and her we barely talk
like spies for different governments
I've tried extracting information
but I'm cut off, passing out
and I wake up every time
17, heart-broken with silence

blank stares scan my every evening
somehow I am still invisible
turning this into a cold green light
to explore the dark corridors of my heart
my thoughts turn to microfilms
and battle plans and secret blueprints
my cover's hanging by a thread

I'm now a fugitive with everything to lose
a secret agent in love with their handler,
the disembodied string of signs on glowing screen
how much emptier than this is it possible to get

because there is no home
and you can't just go back to the agency
one wrong step and charges vary
from espionage to treason
and there've never been any right moves
at all

so now it's back to basics
A glorious hstory of jew in his array of spirit today
that rose on a dream where bona fide with proprietorship it posted its golden way in a suburban place near the bay.
This glorious monument of her time with mayoral sublime
and a museum grew a Buckminster Tavern extemporizing resound
she lie in midst of my siren that denizen Yankees.
As Vladimir
let hit
squad subsist
with revenue
while bitter
throw laundry
ready torn
in tatters
then mother's
milk only
arrest mercurial
unrest that
counter intelligence
with co-opt
here in
cyberspace with
law.  Alas
The Trumpoet Mar 2017
Obama was the nicest guy - Intelligent and cool.
Comparatively speaking, his successor plays the fool.
Ridiculous and baseless tweets, The Donald can't avoid.
His recent missives indicate he's turning paranoid.

Barack Obama seems to be Trump's ongoing obsession.
Obama saved the U.S.A. from Bush-induced recession.
The Donald hates Barack's success and can't leave it alone,
and Trump, now "off the rails", claims Obama bugged his phone!

Trump's offered no supporting facts for his emphatic claim.
No warrants from the F.B.I. or C.I.A. to blame.
Perhaps he thinks Barack Obama has a super-power
that lets him fly high in the sky to break into Trump Tower.

So, do you wonder, Donald Trump, just where Barack is now?
Is he there behind the curtains? Is he in the walls somehow?
Is he watching from the ceiling? Is he in the chandelier?
Is he in your 15th closet? Do these thoughts fill you with fear?

Is he down at Mar-a-Lago, in the old groundskeeper's shed?
Is he disguised just like Melania, right there in your bed?
The truth may be much worse than that! Does it fill you with dread,
to realize Barack is living... deep inside your head?
You can also see this and my other Trump poems at: www.trumpoet.com
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/lYz2aE59x1E
Written March 11, 2017
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