#spy
Spy pigeon, oh spy pigeon,
perched high across my window
Bio engineered and slave,
Remote robot to unseen
master's master's whims
Chip in brain, camera in eye,
satcoms under its feathers
But Nature still reigns,
for here comes lady pigeon,
and off they flew and never return
Aug 18, 2024
Aug 18, 2024 at 1:00 AM UTC
Y'know the last cat I had wasn't even my cat,
he was the neighbour's cat
Yea! He defected... came over to our house
My neighbours they had a holiday home down the country
and used visit it often on the weekends
So the poor cat would be left behind at home
and he'd get lonely
So he'd come out to us, and he liked us so
much
We used give him a great reception
He'd get so much love and attention, nice
food as well
That he decided to stay with us rather than
go back home
We even bought him one of those nice furry
little cathouse bed type things
Put it out in the garage and he'd sleep there.
But whose cat was he now then, was he ours
or was he still theirs
Did they still have a claim on him
Or was it up to him to choose,
You know it could have caused a
Constitutional Crisis
Could have gone to Court
Who had ownership of the cat
Could have been a real tug of love affair
A bit like that film what's it's name...Kramer
vs Kramer
Luckily the neighbours though they didn't
seem to mind that much.
Of course, the punchline to all this was, one day my Dad was out visiting
my neighbours next door
When who should he see lying there on the sofa looking very contented
and very much at home
Yea! You guessed it.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking
Yea exactly! I bet the cat...our cat the Defector
He was probably a Double Agent all along.
Jan 20, 2023
Jan 20, 2023 at 12:00 PM UTC
From within The Spy's enfolding spire,
There emits a glint of fragile light,
Revealing an unreachable, mist-fading city—
The vivid incantation of unutterable occult rites.
Before the riptide of the shore,
Illumed by the light of his flickering flame,
The Spy collapses into his spire,
Only to emerge once again:
Now past the water's glistening edge,
Having scaled the city's sky-flung walls.
Now moving between ancient shadows,
Following the light of his vermilion flame.
Now seeking catacomb chambers
Where, among dismantled skeletal bones,
The master of the slumbering dead resides.
Jan 9, 2023
Jan 9, 2023 at 8:39 PM UTC
They went to the spar hotel and got it on. One time was enough to revive the old socialist. He was fully revived. This was similar but different than before. They bonked away one session and did other things.
This was better than being in the reading room studying revolutionary doctrines. The human body needed nourishing as did the mind. Blue was illuminated and revived in all ways. Like a rescued nation freed of a capitalist government replaced by a loyal communist one.
Total revival of all things. If only it was always like this rather than the continued battle capitalist and communist in the way of the world. A good buck **** ruck **** was the key.
He needs no ****** it's all natural service guaranteed. He's locked and loaded. His bright green target cross is locked on his target, focused to infinity. See how she dances soon to dance with him. What will they create?
Nov 25, 2022
Nov 25, 2022 at 6:10 PM UTC
It was an unexpected travesty
While I sipped on my Paris tea
Black and swirling in the creamy cup
The melancholy inside wasn’t made up
The touches shared never to be replayed
A pen left wordless on the splotched page
The story of us dwindled and ended
I’ll yearn the soul I lost and befriended
It stains the wanderings in my heart
Restless longing never to depart
Will she look at you the way I did too
Or with her smile is your gaze anew
Amongst any spoken tendril I have to say
You’ll ignore it regardless, keep it at bay
No matter wherever I beg and try
Forever I’ll be pinned as the bad guy
Your friends affirm it without any doubt
The words you spill attract gallons of clout
And even with a vine of knowledge to prove
They’d pry and spy ‘til nothing’s left to prune
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 11:14 PM UTC
if you spy an opportunity
to help someone change
for the better
urge them to take it on
and offer assistance where you can
be the positivity you wish to see
but at a certain point
you may have to accept them
for who they are
we are all of us, limited in this condition
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 9:29 AM UTC
Check engine brings in the sufficiency of evil.
How does this work? Re
cognition, I suspect, a seemingly tireless system,
each day releases a sufficiency of evil,
just
enough to re
mind me-you, I see everything, I know
--- within the system of ignition and motive power
peace is after the first explosion begins to turn the crank.
all the piston resistance is pushed toward fore,
and we are off
the line ready
-- and I drive on to exit 28
The Madness of Crowds,
find what my tweets should be today,
read all the madness streams venting
into
the
new ideology of
entertainment,
consider comes up as a word, verb, I paused to look to the stars,
with their shine
to see me
as some bit of all that.
Far from the madding crowd maddened
by the noise we make in preparing
for war
from the foundational texts, in context,
time relative to everything, before
now, position point
meta data do the ID ea, ificate,
ego, go go on, wonder if
what if
hapt
ha, that one worked, eh? We.
You read, I write,
output input output with the effect of input,
loop once, and get the idea that this may
go on, never off,
well, we may imagine that goes nowhere,
round and round, balanced, as the best
1800's steamy perpetual motion patents were
compared
to vaporous IPO's in 1999,
which were overly faith-biased,
as a man thinketh in his heart, the whole world
seems to be… what the mind of the crowd can
conceive, with grip taken, hold on and lift
toward the top of the ripple,
balance
to the tip… of next…
here, put a gate.
Leave a legend of a fiery sword,
impressed
on the mind of a child living in a world
lit only by heaven and fire stolen
from the earth,
go mad with kuriosity
mad on me, mad on you, mad in us is used
to make us choose to believe or not,
dared? were we dared to doubt,
dared we be of two minds
in the matter of time and my being any thing?
Aye, and art, the wit of knowing, we are mortal,
don't forget,
how happy shall we be in ever, is there a demo?
May we try your way a while,
at the speed of thought
in unspoken words
read words in constant presentpast state, the angel
or the thought asreal,
read, but add the phenomenal experience of knowing
this one word is coming to me
from one level lower than the creator of all,
from one little measure above common
mortal humis based life…
where is peace in now?
An intention pledge, above the ethic moral tide,
as sea levels rise, tides rise, settle
us…
be the unem, see the top, from the bottom.
I look up.
BUT THEN SEE
the word realm I reside with
in time and chance,
such as the first fit word was serendipitously sung
in the sixties most recent,
along the marked ***** twisting thread through
the eve of destruction survived
by everybody getting ******
according to Phoebe Zeitgeist, my once intimate
Tinkerbell fixation,
**** pixie,
in words.
Spin or real, side real, re
al Rheastatically
Hopft hopes to
twistit
little bit,
{which way, apriori flaw, *** of u and me}
-lefty loosy, righty tighty was known at the ***** line
so, ***** you, tighten
the connection,
let less - power - flow, {force me, Luke, make me look}
Hopfordsensation spun'n'set to spin on and on unless
- un less, add, subtract prove this equals that
- this is odd
- what if there is always a way good wins?
Spin or real, side real, re
al Rheastatically
dimmed to minimum spark, flash 10 second rewind,
I lost my mind
I set a reminder for a live feed proper propaganda
event for the latest contender
arisen to question the faith that is in me,
is me, I am
after all, covered
in the entire line of promises which,
culminate in Christ, if you know what I mean,
other wise,
you call truth liar. And there you are.
Wishing you knew if I were
you
would I lie about something as serious as happiness,
the state?
the condition?
the I'll go rhythm schism prism sparkling down the dusty trail…
mind wandering in ever after, as we have done, un
thinking, epi-
evolved by
tuning to those early greyscale programs with random snow
of many colors, when
you were of a bubbled state happy to watch the noise
of the universe
rippling through time to me via amplified CRT bursts
sans earthly input filtering output.
The white room we all remember,
staring in white room mode at whatever is on tv
see, think, imagine doing, that's it, that's it… nope, no good,
you feel bad when things go wrong,
even on tv,
we see.
These bits of us that make no sort on reality verification,
- there is no standard zero to divide by,
- and all the ones are whole
physical, hardwired, nurtured knots and nuts and bolts and
fast-ening things, thoughts that snag
hang-ups,
run the silk, expose the flesh, pierce the epi dermis
determinus outer-most
me,
into innermost you. In a given word, long ago, I think.
Life began to leak from ever before into ever after,
through now,
like this… quarkishly entangled with every thread of ever,
from then to now,
at any point in time, imagine, this is peace of mind, I MADEITUP!
--- a lessoning, to me today
--- opportunity to take responsibility, noticed,
there in our perifery,
leaning
left horizontal attitude adjust
POV straighten up
fly right.
Cultural norms super impose, form a me you may re
cognize in any mirror here on in…
that is not a clue, that is what you do. Now, or re boot day 7.
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 6:43 PM UTC
Sitting on trains plastered in rainbows
Hues of the fairest gray periods
Heart tired
Eyes glued
My grandmother always said not to stare...
I got caught in the naps of his hair
His 6 foot awesomeness
Maybe he's texting about business
His holiday arrangements...
Maybe his locs long for her
Maybe he tells her she's amazing
That he cant wait to see her
He'll kiss away her fears
Install the mirage of his emotions
Hold her, rub her back
3:00 am "you're beautiful"
Dreams of morning oral soliloquys...
Awakened by his agenda
She's remissed she couldn't wake earlier
To spend those last moments glancing out
Into the moments paradigm
To play a lil' house within his eyes ...
Suddenly
A faint streak of saliva on her cheek
muah
He's off...
She walks into the lavatory
Wondering why the hell the bathroom light's on...
LP
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 3:08 PM UTC
——Allied, 2016 movie
Prologue:
WWII setting, covert operations
in German-occupied Casablanca
"Love and Hunger rule the world."
Consequently to dominate the world,
man had to win a victory over hunger,
after paying a very high price.
～～～～～
Scenery I. Casablanca
-----------
All are of one colour: yellow，
Parachuting into the Moroccan desert,
He swept dune seas, hypnotically,
Not a patch of shade, not a drop of water,
only an infinite sea of yellow sand.
～～～～～
Action I. Max & Marianne meet
Max Vatan (M) took a wedding ring,
Looking, Searching and Wandering:
Order Code:
1. Your wife dressed in purple;
2. A scarf stitched with a wild yellow bird
(Party Hall,Marianne Beauséjour swirled around)
Slowly, she turned back to him,
Loudly, she shouted out in French,
C’est mon meilleur et le plus beau mari.
～～～～～
Scenery II.
Sunrise at Casablanca desert
And the entire desert is theirs.
As all the skies are the stars and the sun’s kingdom.
There are no doors; hearts are open,”
——Southern Moroccan Secrets.”
Featured Conversations:
--------------
Marianne lifted up her lips and asked Max:
“Le Québécois? What are our odds?
Of surviving? 60-40, against. Both of us, I don’t know.”
So, tell me about Medicine Hat, Marianne kept asking
Max Vatan: Pretty green. Rolling hills.
Clear water. Just a place I go when things get dark.
You? Do you have a place?
Marianne Beauséjour: When the war is over
it won’t matter where I am.
～～～～～
Action II. Assassin
Fear not the weapon but the hand that wields it,
Beware the feelings of two agents allied,
they strike in the darkness
Fear not the weapon but the hand that wields it
Beware the shadows if you value your life
they strike in the darkness
20:31, 20:32… Counting down,
Trois, Deux, Un… 20:35
Allied couple, a possible mission
Boom! Bang! Explosions screamed
into glass, into fire and smoke.
Is it our only chance of escape?
Before the Mission, Assassin comes
Nothing to live for, nowhere is safe,
Stick to the light if you wish to escape.
～～～～～
Scenery III.
Along the corridor in the V section
“they never say what they mean
and they never mean what they say,
and they never say anything on the phone”
Action III: 72hours Blue-dye” procedure
～～～～～
1st 24 Hours:
Who really is Marianne?
That was a repeated question from Max
As no iron curtains made of steel
conniving happy family with things to steal
A pair of birds perched on a live wire
Only to set up a mission to conspire
2nd 24 Hours
Is this a game or a test?
Max thought he has understood it clearly
That love for a spy is only a game to play.
Have you heard his soundless scream
When the war was there, a game to share
With V-Section, life or death.
A test. A game.
The last hours: Ending letters
Je t'aime, Québécois, Marian said her last words to Max.
She shot herself.
blood and red coat, soaked into the rain
Her voice swings to Medicine Hat
…
Where Pretty green. Rolling hills
Clear water…When the war is over,
it won’t matter where I am ..
A young girl, Anna read this letter with her father,
at Medicine Hat.
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
To entertain
means to be starkers
and dance with veils,
to exoticize war
and tremble in
a thousand rhythms.
Bejeweled as a spy,
nevertheless,
don't know why.
Eye of the day,
and a dozen matchlocks
had me inertly settle
upon my knees,
before bending at my waist
to take one last look
at the fiery heavens.
Jul 6, 2020
Jul 6, 2020 at 6:55 AM UTC
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 the 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 the shadow of an 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!
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 11:36 PM UTC
"I love you",
I wish to send,
Blowing my cover
And my missions.
"Is it worth it?",
You make me ask,
To leave it all behind,
And run to you.
"Reply anything!",
Yes, I've read.
You know I do, always,
Yet I hold myself back.
"Trust me, I'll return",
I almost sent, but,
Reality suddenly struck
Where promises fail.
"Bye", a last text,
Before the bullet
Kissed my heart,
Soothed my senses;
"Thank you darling",
I thought, unspoken,
As her face flashed
For one last time.
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
Try not to cry.
It all happened before
we all know the story
while hiding undercover
you're also a *****
Now chew on that you old piece of snitch.
V for Vendetta
Engulfing to play
Never forget those who can't die
D for Decay
Ether will swallow me
Terrible fate
This is my story
A faceless mirage
A black op scenario became a social cliche.
Jun 7, 2019
Jun 7, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
Small nations? Who cares!
Unless you're Israel. Who else?
Why spy and steal
Just slam the steel
Gift in hand, suggests
Your daughter - or son - or else?
Small nations
petty thieves
spy, steal from
small nations.
Big Boys see and laugh
All of mine is yours
If you worship us
You'll be one of us.
But Big Boy wannabe
China, will never be;
Splurged fake money by the ton
But none worships Dragon's son.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 2:53 AM UTC
Usually I embrace the lack of sound,
but lately it’s been peeling the paint off the walls.
The chips scatter and collect on the ground,
in boredom I pick them up and roll them into *****
I forget the last voice that touched my ear,
but there’s only one I truly seem to crave,
even when telling me things I don’t want to hear
I find it impossible for me not to cave.
I’ve been playing Spy vs Spy
with my reflection in the mirror.
The black and white catches my eye
but the mix to grey is growing nearer.
There’s something else I want to try,
as the difference between good and bad is getting clearer.
I remember everyone else but forgot I,
I’m not too sure if I should fear her.
So what side are you on?
Are you here or are you gone?
Normally I love the pitch black dark
but tonight it’s drowning me in an abyss.
The structure and outlines that once were stark
are now details even the sharpest eye could miss.
I forget the last person to grace my sight,
there’s only one I wish to be standing in place,
her glow would banish the darkness of night,
whether she was caressing or slapping my face.
I’ve been playing Spy vs Spy
with my opposing thoughts and views,
and lately I’ve just been getting by
by drinking raindrops and morning dews.
A goal too far or maybe too high,
but that’s hardly any breaking news.
So what side are you on?
Are you hand written or hand drawn?
You’re holding me under water, watching me drown so slow,
pulling me up for air and saying “don’t breathe, just blow.”
You’re holding me under water,
watching me drown so slow,
then pulling me up for air begging
“please, oh please, don’t go.”
I’ve been playing Spy vs Spy
with my conflicting feelings and limited choices,
no right path for me so the left I defy,
in the distance I may just hear voices.
It’s comedic how I accept a lie,
and I’m sure she still rejoices.
So what side are you on?
Are you twilight or are you dawn?
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
I tried to be a secret agent
I smuggled the keys to your heart
Little did I know
You had changed the lock
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 1:12 PM UTC
are we children, or are we spies
in this city of disguise
when heaven calls,
and the wall falls,
who will pass us by?
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
if Jūrmala
by Riga
she fettered
goat head
aim for
orient in
sea yesterday
she stank
like the
submarine there
with Latvia
as Über
recoiled their
way to
Dow Nation
with centipede
in lore
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 6:01 AM UTC
Between the oceans deep-sea shades
Hides in the abysmal ground
The darkness whom the light craves
Down in the deep-sea fishes cave
A riddle to all brave explorers
Since nothing but shadows appear
But crawling under erratic orders
The invisible deep-sea fish hears
No single movement of alien light
Nor living that sneaks through the dark
Escapes the glooming deep-sea fishes eyes
That see every enlightening spark
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC
a union is granted a pie
and cleanse their rye
when a tunic can sequester mobs
only cries in these houses pale crumbs
as they succumb to climes in poles
that keep their fry hush in throes
and below the ground frowns peal the town
as ice is temperately bound
whether ponds here roast white supremacy
as rhetoric was xenophobia
and rose from their chaos
now the national street
that sought their limb
and the financier in London
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
a pillage
and loot
this Saturday
night was
very cute
as me
foreboding but
outside the
coffeeshop with
a map
that haunt
madam dacha
with pouch
in debt
this resolute
capture was
Russian probe
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
Some decades back, in actual fact,
Being heard was feared.
Corded phones and dial tones
Were oft routinely cleared;
The worry was a 'wire-tap',
Domestic speech taboo.
The rumor was, in essence, that
If said, the White House knew.
Nowadays, this fear we lack,
And cheerfully obey.
Now we ask, "Hey, wire-tap,
What's the weather like today?"
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC