Poetry competition CLOSED 6th March 2013 8:50pm
WINNER
jaspersilence
View Profile Poems by jaspersilence
rosette
RUNNER-UP: marielavoue

Page:

Intelligence Agency Blues

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

You are a spy and just came across some bad news.  Write a poem about it using the details below.
You are a Spy working for an Intelligence Agency.  You have come across top secret information that endangers your family and friends.  Write in poetic form who you work for, what you do, what the endangering-information is, and what you plan to do to do about it.

Use this link to select who you work for:

http://www.intelligencesearch.com/intelligence-agencies.html

http://www.fbi.gov/news/stories/2007/july/spying070907.jpg

Two entries maximum.

Collaborations welcome (credit will be split).

Any length, any style.

Good Luck!

Strider


http://thinkspace.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/20100128-top-secret.gif

poet Anonymous


http://www.growopsolutions.ca/images/clip_image013.jpg

INTELLIGENCE AGENCY BLUES

I work for the RCMP
We work with the DEA
Trying to keep hard drugs away
Harmony between Canada and USA

The problem began
When the marijuana laws were banned
It would have been legal here
Gateway drug it was labeled there

We have just seized a large incoming load
I manage to pocket a bit
They will not see with all that fuss
Why this is important to me

My Aunt is dying in pain
Pain pills help, but she needs Mary Jane
Canada, I wish I could be
Totally loyal to thee
But you have not heard the screams
Of the dying, even in your dreams.

jaspersilence
Fire of Insight
United States 7awards
Joined 12th Dec 2012
Forum Posts: 708

Safe

The scars read who I am.
I've kept most off of my face.
A face that if should perish,
would take awhile to replace.
They've trained me very well.
Too well some may say.
It's hell and high water.
God bless the U.S.A.
They told me"never tell."
No matter what comes to light.
I've just found out tomorrow,
that half the country's going to die.
She sleeps in peace beside me.
Not knowing what I know.
They said"don't get invested,
emotions make you slow."
The words they never came.
She'd always ask to hear.
I never said,"I love you,"
twas days like this I feared.
I cannot take her with me,
to the place they say is safe.
If I bring anyone,
they'd put us both to waste.
Exact location is unknown,
of where we are protected.
It's save myself,or die with her,
my thoughts they feel infected.
I shake away the tears,
and stare at the syringe in hand.
At least with this she'd be sleeping,
through our government's wicked plan.
I flick the vile once,
she stirs and opens her eyes.
I push in the needle quickly.
I've already wasted time.
Before it put her out.
As her beautiful eyes fluttered.
I leaned in and kissed her lips,
and told her that I love her.


Sinatra877
Twisted Dreamer
1awards
Joined 26th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 118

Shadow Warriors

As the days turn into months and months into years,
I do my job with many obvious fears.
From Taliban fighters and insurgents in Iraq,
I tell few truths and report simple facts.

I first started at Benning learning basic Infantry,
Listening to the mantra of “Be All That You Can Be”.
As the years moved forward my skills began to grow.
Then I was contacted by S-3 in the know.

They reviewed my 201 and asked a lot of stuff.
Ten months went by so it wasn’t a bluff.
I was given the spiel and an SF-86
That was before I got to learn new shit.

They spoke to my teachers and spoke with some friends,
They spoke to my employers and my parents again.
I was never to speak of it as another year went by.
The waiting game was grueling.  I wanted to cry.

I trained at Quantico for a year but left with no trace.
You can find folks like me in every little place.
I was taught to fight in close quarters, with a gun or a knife.
And lived in austere conditions brimming with strife.

I gather intelligence; my role in this world.
I ready myself when things unfurl.
I collect the secrets not known to everyone.
Like a bad spy flick without girls or guns.

I learned the art of deception and the art of the kill,
My handler calls upon me when I fit the bill.
I do the dirty things that no one will know.
But that’s alright it’s the natural flow.

From laser guided cluster bombs to a simple folding blade,
I’m never in the limelight but always backed up in the shade.
I learn the languages and blend really well.
When I get my orders, I’ll unleash the Hell.

I hide in the shadows and take notes with my mind,
And contact my Handler only when in a bind.
I observe and report only what I see and hear,
But it’s filtered for DCI and his selective ear.

I’m considered HUMINT, just a cog you see?
And not as overt as a Chair Force UAV.
Just a simple asset that has boots on the ground.
I direct the Shooters by SIGINT to what I've found.

At times, a Tango outside Islamabad
Calling in Shooters to come in armor clad.
With Helos staged in Kabul with the need to know,
And Shooters in black, all ready to go.

I’ll sneak in the AO from the west you see,
And mark it ten clicks out with a VS-17 .
The slicks will go black, the mission’s a go.
And all I’ll see is the faint IR’s glow.

My assets near the IP, taking it all in stride,
Painting the LZ with IR for the Pilots’ stealthy ride.
Suppressed rifles flashed at once, taking out some sentries,
Clearing the area for the team’s dynamic entry.

Snatch-n-Grabs are gambles with a chance of blue on blue,
Rather a blue on red with a simple CBU.
If the intelligence is solid, everything will go well.
Then we’ll see what our Tango will tell.

I race back to a safe house and wait as I’m told,
Only an hour has passed but I feel so old.
Then to my delight, someone rattles my cage;
“Mission’s a go, proceed to next stage.”

“Tango is secured, Mission A-OK!”
“Twenty-two are down with no KIA!”
“AO destroyed, Going Phase Line Black!"
My cover was blown, there's no going back.

I landed a day later out in Kandahar.
I left my world, which seemed so far.
I meet my handler and was shuffled away,
I got my debrief the very next day.

My job is over and ordered on vacation,
I picked up a hobby and thought of my vocation.
But in four months time, I’ll be called once more,
To go to a place that was once a bore.

This is what I am; another asset or cog.
My job is solely intel and to clear the fog.
I’ll never get news stories or meet POTUS one day,
Because I’m just a lowly asset for the DIA.

poet Anonymous

http://www.pianohelp.net/pictures/James%20Bond%20The%20Spy%20Who%20Loved%20Me.jpg

THE SPY

All the others went off to war
They recruited me as they did before
For my knowledge of languages
For my ability to decode
I sit in a darkly lit room
Everything has a barcode

Every day I monitor the internet
Useless banter is useful when
The message is traceable
When I sense the goose bumps
Up my spine, as terrorists
Are throwing false leads
To lead us off their dirty deeds

It is Monday morning again
When the code breakers get back to me
The man I have been dating is also a spy you see
Except I did not know and now the attention
Bad attention, is focused on me

For my own good they lock me up
Interrogate me what the fuck
Goes on for hours humiliating tears
Until they break me with my fears

My lover who is handsome dark Levantine
Made two pacts with two devils very routine
I have to catch his ass and bring him home
I have to do it all alone

I am going to be my lover’s executioner
They have given me extra training and backup
When he comes to make love to me
He will be nude, exposed, and vulnerable
When he learns I have turned him in

In this world of endless night
I know the next person with this plight
For his kind is ruthless you see
The next person to be killed is me.

poet Anonymous

Psychologist, Criminal Profiling - for the FBI


Another Wolf with A Badge, by mikimoondancer


Interviewing the same three subjects
the remainder of the suspects, as yet
uncleared

The DNA lacking-
alibi's and motives
are most of what's left
to sift through

Asking random questions
mixed in with the rest
watching body language
Every reaction is another test

I know by the way he
holds all the pictures
and
Talks of the crime scene
it's lack of evidence
and the victims...

That he...
He who also ponders and inquires
speaks to me of diagnoses
tries to point out the liars
Is guilty

But, not only that...
I know what he's done

What his capabilities are
how he does it for fun...

He's the Sociopath,
the one that everyone likes
and no-one suspects
what he thinks of at night

Yet, I do...
by the words he leaves out
the answers he absorbs
and feeds on in delight...

He's the ultimate risk
to the general public
The metaphorical wolf
with an I.D. badge -
supporting his cover

Not only, does he fit the profile
A diagnosis reserved for the
incorrigible- the most vile

But I,
I fit the description
and meet all the pre-requisites
for how he selects his victims

I know his mind games
but this one is no slacker
His methods are clean, and
he knows all the banter

...and he smiles
sipping his herbal tea
Still eyeing the stack of profiles
whilst trying to profile me

Unveiling a man
whose identity is protected
Changed as necessary
Leaves me feeling dejected

The board is set
all the pieces plugged in
This will take a miracle

Let the head games begin...








marielavoue
Gypsy Red
Tyrant of Words
United States 40awards
Joined 18th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 905

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cgtTNSfBgF8/UTPEF85HkAI/AAAAAAAAC7A/KkIURhI1xv0/s640/UNSC-ONI-sym.JPG

The spook comes for you

I am called in the middle of the night
no warning, no considerations for familial plights.
Duty dictates I ask no question and give no answers
this is the nature of the beast, it gives no quarter.
When the world thought that women
in the military where safe at menial desk jobs,
I was one of the chosen few
that did the job no man would want.
Stealth and tenacity best defined me
a ghost, no witness was ever left
no one could say who, what, where or when.
If you were one of the unfortunate ones
my countenance signaled your demise.
I was an angel of death,
the Reaper’s bounty hunter,
the thief of your spirits last breath,
someone you should pray never to encounter.
They gave me the mark and I answered the call,
hope I never have come for you, roger, that is all.  

Gypsy Red

*The term "spook" refers to a person
who isn't really there. "Spooks" are people
whose job it is to go where "nobody ever goes,"
to do things that "nobody ever does,"
and to know things that "nobody knows."
They're ghosts. Officially, they sort of don't exist.
They don't talk about what they do.
Very few really know what they do,
and hardly anybody knows the details --
it's called "plausible deniability".
So they're sort of legend.
Navy Crypt. And Psy op. Techs.
are a part of the intelligence community.

marielavoue
Gypsy Red
Tyrant of Words
United States 40awards
Joined 18th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 905

poet Anonymous

Fellow Poets,

I appreciate everyone who participated, there were great writes to choose from~you poets made things tough.  I liked them the way I picked them.

Thanks again and pen on.....

Strider

Page:
Go to: