Quotes about radar, page 7
The Mouse
The moonbeams spear
Sporadic forest webs
Playing with light peeling the
Shadows from the forest floor.
Raindropp tears cling
To sleeping bluebells,
Swirling winds accentuate
The wolf pack howls.
The little mouse leaves his house
As the radar beams
Set the focus of the
Predator’s eye, the talons ease.
Its formidable body
Leaves the bough,
Silent, swift, down so fast,
Not so lucky with it’s empty grasp.
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poem by Ken e Hall
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My life
Layers after layers
Sucked up all the elements of light
In the abyss
A crone lies in the dark, pitch
Mystery of the mysteries
No mind over there ever reached
Mother of all curiosities
Lower of the lowest
Sad of the saddest wave
Unparalleled taste of the bust
Brighter than the brightest
No heart over there ever reached
In the zenith
A beautiful fairy resides
Wonder and surprises
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poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Poet's Dilemma - III
The poet has a lengthy journey
His destination is set
He has to reach that shining shore
That he can call his own
There will be many obstacles
And pitfalls on the way
But he must never stop or sway
Must never lose his way
And if he weathers all the storms
His arrival will be assured
Then he can bask in all the glory
And all the publicity
But this doesn’t mean his journey’s is over
He still has a long way to go
He must be alert and attentive
And watch-full all the way
Something he must always remember
Is there is plenty in the ether
And if he is always on the alert
He can capture it on his radar
poem by Leonard Daranjo
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Give Me More
Do me a favor?
Do not flavor your speech,
With flowered outreach touches.
Get to the core of it!
Do not decide,
What is suitable or fit for me.
I am on you like radar.
Detecting your every nuance.
And if substance is there...
I will provide you with mine.
With more to share.
I am not the kind to window dress,
Just to attract attention.
Or to confess a collection of nonsense...
To profess.
Unless...
We are both together,
Sharing dreams to be completed.
Free of deceptions unneeded.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enormous Guilt
Cannot stare
coming on terror radar. Every night there
was Celsius rise in deadpeace. The climate
debt of a dark cloud was changing.
What is going to happen, tell me blindfolded.
We have a never or nothing attitude. The
roads were on edge, grazing under a blood
spinning midnight lamp, like a whipped
up cream of convenient truths. A subterranean
anger was banging against the wailing
wall. We did little in our synchronized
failure. Nobody was going to blink.
A tooth was smashed by a flying missile
of a homegrown myth. The glacier was
shy of a black fire. A holy moon becomes
opaque in white winter.
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poem by Satish Verma
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No Liberty can Bloom where Doomsday Few Enshroud
Drone's no-fly zone sets tone for prompt poetic
Radar tracks furtive raider rarely seen
Only sophisticated systems glean
Near view. Invader unapologetic
Eyes all below, hill, hollow, scan frenetic
Seeks secrets, civil, military, sheen
Now cloaked - gold members' privilege - can screen
One at a time all details. Energetic
Flight-path for Big Brother is planned, magnetic
Lasers home in on aerodrome, demesnes,
Yet few maintain complaints as freedom's scene
ZOne borderline must meet. Heed call prophetic!
No liberty can bloom where doomsday few
Enshroud, cloud basic facts, conceal true view.
Acrostic Sonnet Drone's No-Fly Zone 21 December 2011
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Give It While it is There to Give
Not intrigued by teasing.
Or one who welcomes being pushed to distress,
Awaiting someone's confessions of love!
Those scenes that milk emotions to wither...
To be breast fed back to life,
After hiking from valleys to cloudy peaks
Does not keep my interests soaring.
I seek a raw and honest exchange that's done!
A long ranging game played...
For the sake to see how heartbreak happens...
Isn't on my radar!
I am far from anyone not within touch,
Or within a frame of mind that has no time to share!
And stripped bare of playground tactics.
That's the ideal.
And it is there very strong!
Give it while it appears there to give...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Flying at night
The sticks are strapped in
and there’s a slight chill,
in the early morning air.
Black tiger stripes,
are painted over our faces
and we are waiting for takeoff.
It’s much colder when the plane rises
and flies low to avoid enemy radar
and enemy Mig fighters.
There’s a yellow moon hanging low
and some stars pass,
with bright twinkling eyes.
The plane gains altitude,
before the light starts flashing
and the end of the flight draws near.
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poem by Gert Strydom
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A Sure Promise
Refreshing breeze, you waft across my brow,
Relaxing me so well, to thus allow
My mind to wander off in dreams, somehow,
To things of pleasure. All ascending now.
Dazzling sun, you wrap my frame with bliss,
Softening my heart, which then receives solace.
And filling my being with such a sure promise,
That I rise up from a darkening, deep abyss.
Unruffled moon, your light shines from afar,
Lifting the gloom along with each bright star.
Reflecting off the sunbeams own radar.
How wonderful your illuminations are.
Aqueous rain that launders all things new,
Feeding the ground and depositing the dew.
Revive my soul, and with clarity imbue,
As each droplet descends to its known rendezvous.
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poem by Ernestine Northover
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Insertion (In Answer To Pieter Strauss)
With the moon that is tonight missing
as if it has strayed somewhere
and the stars dimmed out
by dark clouds
and just now and then
a bolt of thunder
that hits bleak white downwards
I am let free from very high
and are almost a machine
that breathes through a mask
where a tank is attached on to my back
and from higher than the horizon
and with every enemy guard, guard-tower
radar station primed
against foreign penetration, intrusion
I fall hyper-quick, as if I am passing time
while life, the whole world
comes to a standstill around me
until I am mechanically reminded
that the ground is almost too near
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poem by Gert Strydom
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