Whispers That Grip - Jeffrey Drohnemer's friskydingo mood #2



 Technical background on the poem:

Remotely manipulating objects through barriers like walls or floors could involve the use of directed energy weapons (DEWs) that emit concentrated electromagnetic waves or high-power microwaves. These DEWs can penetrate non-conductive materials, potentially allowing for remote interaction with objects or individuals within a structure.. One theoretical application is the use of high-power microwave (HPM) systems, which emit electromagnetic radiation capable of coupling into targets through unintended pathways such as seams or apertures precisely controlling the frequency and amplitude of these waves, it's conceivable to create simulating the effect of a physical touch or grasp. Another avenue involves the use of ultrasonic waves, which have been explored for creating tactile sensations in mid-air focusing ultrasonic waves at a point in space, it's possible to generate a sensation of touch, allowing users to 'feel' virtual objects without direct contact.

Combining these principles, a device could employ a drone equipped with a directed energy system capable of emitting focused electromagnetic or ultrasonic waves  penetrating building materials and precisely controlling the waveforms, reform into ghostly hands next to the victim, mimicking the actions of a hand.  

                            

From the darkened halls of labs unknown,
Where whispers hum in circuits grown,
A weapon born of waves and light,
To reach through walls and squeeze them tight.

High-power microwaves took flight,
A ghostly grasp, a hidden blight.
Ultrasonic fingers weave the air,
Touching flesh in cruel despair.

Once a dream for war untamed,
Now in Jeffrey’s hands, profaned.
He scans the lists, the watchful eyes,
Of those who speak, who criticize.

A woman dared to march and shout,
For justice, hope—he snuffed it out.
She woke to hands she couldn’t see,
A punishment for daring free.

A man who prayed the foreign way,
Felt fingers stroke, then fists that flay.
A lesson carved in whispered pain,
To keep dissenters bound in chain.

And Jeffrey laughs—a king unseen,
His drone a phantom, cold and mean.
For power grows where none resist,
And terror thrives in hands like this. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Jefferey Dronehmer, yuh a real piece a work (Wi-fi hacked, laptops cracked, IMSI catchers, StingRay, Infrared beams, directed energy too)

Image
Jefferey Dronehmer, yuh a real piece a work, Thy mind doth fester, where madness doth lurk. Born in the shadows of power and greed, Yuh grow up wicked, fulfill di dark creed. Yuh head full a delusion, yuh life full a sin, Thy deeds are vile, and thy soul wears thin. From di days of yuh youth, yuh chase di wrong path, Infected with Gonorrhea, yuh feel di wrath. Yuh catch di Gonorrhea, an’ worse dan dat, Thy brain, infected, hath made thee a brat. Yuh ignorant, illiterate, nuh know di law, Thy ignorance doth shame, and justice doth flaw. Yuh tink yuh invincible, ‘cause yuh back by di strong, Yet pride doth falter, and thy reign won’t last long. Yuh harass di people, yuh assault dem rights, Yet truth shall rise, and vanquish thy plights. Wi-fi hacked, laptops cracked, yuh spy pon dem life, IMSI catchers, StingRay, yuh bring nuff strife. Infrared beams, directed energy too, Yuh violate homes, an’ all weh dem do. Yuh monitor devices, keylog dem pain, ...
Read more

Beware the rodents in the sky (Before the darkness fully devours...)

Image
           In the dead of night, when shadows creep, And silence reigns, and mortals sleep, A silent hum, a distant drone, A watchful eye, unseen, unknown. The Predator and Reaper fly, Their cameras peer, their sensors spy, On every move, on every sound, A constant watch, without a bound. Their operators, faceless, cold, With hearts of stone and stories untold, Sit in their cubicles, far away, And watch the world in disarray. They see our homes, our lives laid bare, Our secrets whispered on the air, Our every move, our every breath, A constant surveillance, a living death. The drones they fly, a silent threat, A constant fear, a constant dread, A shadow hanging overhead, A weight upon our hearts, a heavy tread. The night sky, once a peaceful sight, Is now a canvas, dark and night, Where drones like rats, with eyes of fire, Scour the land and fan the pyre. The Constitution, a tattered sheet, Torn and trampled, incomplete, As drones like vultures circle high,...
Read more

A Dark Conclave

Image
                                                                                         In social media, a minority man dared speak, His own ideas he'd post, mainstream thoughts critique An immigrant, he thought he had freedom of speech He hadn't realized the unwritten protocol he should never breach   The rulers conspired behind cloistered walls, They saw in him danger; their tyrant’s call. A cabal of shadows with power amassed, Turned whispers of free thought to daggers cast.   “Look! He shows anger; he swerves past the lines,” Circus of scoffers carved tales from mere signs. With fabrications that flourished like weeds, They spun him a villain from innocent seeds.   A 700-page tome on a life liv...
Read more