Barrelled Poems | Examples

Bottomless bottles of bile, in my wake

In my wake, if i were to awaken,
O' wakeful wonder to wrench mine withered eyes 
Aware'f the withering summer haze
Out in my bright eyed future, out in my cross toe'd path
Pompous poppies t'prop mine withering body
Lest f'saken soil shall chance this chance and enwrap thy very soul
Whole, wholly in unholy disrepair 
Where thy feet ne'er make a pair

In my wake, where bottomless bile surely shalln't sate,
Grace be with grace whereth fate form'd nigh near'r thy hate
voracious, inherent, timbered'n barrels 
Embedded beneath thy bedded tomb t'ferment 
Fraught feminal petticoats bed thy bones'n skin, t'sit within
Barrelled quarrels quashed'n quaint fricatives,
T'lace these afaced wicked motives.
Foot befitting feet b'fore foolish faces reverberate foolish vows
F'petty petticoats liven' lieu'f laced love.

In my latent wake, 
Tend t'the petty posies 
T'prop mine body 
Towards th'lascerating ladle'f love,
And into th'deepening dish'f self-hate.

24//8//25

The Hunt

The hunt for quails had begun.

Two old men sat on a bench on the main street.
A shot rang out of the stillness of the countryside. 
Below one old man, weak-sighted but the sound of hearing, 
raised his head towards the ridge.
"He missed! Surely the fool has missed!" he said.

Up the street, two youths approached, both carried 
a double-barrelled repeater. Both had empty bags.
The two young men stopped in front of them. 
"Oliver would have hit any bird even with half-blind eyes,"
the taller one said. "And you, Bert?  Come with us tomorrow?"
Laughing, they continued their way.

"Of course, rest assured we are indeed men!  
I lost count of the number of quails I caught!"
"We are men!  You know what, we’ll go hunting too."
Two heads, one white, one bald, nodded in unison.
“We’ll meet early at six tomorrow.”  They agreed. 

The town hall clock rang out every hour. 
Six o’clock struck. Nature slept on. 
Below, in an alley, two old men dreamt. Damn fools! 
They moaned in their sleep. Why can’t they shoot straight?

Early Morning Walk

A solitary child really,
Shotgun under arm,
Wandering the flood plains 
On Billy Bulson’s farm,
Hammer uncocked, 
Chamber free of charge 
Enjoying the sensation 
Of wandering at large.

Not shooting for pleasure 
But out to fill the pot.
Today we could manage
With just what we’ve got,
Not getting any pleasure 
From any single kill
Just hoping it was clean
And done with some skill

It’s an overcast morning
Sun fighting to break through
Grass wet underfoot from
A heavy morning dew.
It’s Saturday today so
I can take my pleasure
Walking these fields
Slowly at my leisure 

Weapon broken barrelled 
Now I’m back on the road
To ensure I’m complying with
The  shooters safety code.
My next  walk will be
Just a little bit harder, 
Supplies are getting lower
In the family larder.

Any Weekday morning
I’d be in a bit of a rush
Racing up Church Lane
To catch my school bus,
Part of my double life that 
Brings me so much joy, 
Village country bumpkin and
City Grammar School boy.

Spiritual Healing For An Over Fifty

When once upon a time one had to knock at your friends door to see if they were in because your parents had put a cap on the phone bill to stop you ringing  ....
When you recycled your bottles of pop for pocket money, a halfpenny for your fruit salad chew and you couldn't resist a black jack that turned your tongue blue ..   
When your first job was picking fresh organic field mushrooms for the local grocery , a Tuppence a punet was plenty ....
When you helped the elders of your community across the road because their glasses were stuck together with sticky tape balanced on their nose ......
When your friend called Cyril the dog taught you to swim in the river and the sea and you adventured in  the pond on your makeshift barrelled boat , your spirit was free swinging on a rope amongst the river trees ...
When it was safe to walk to the park through your village , your community ,and you know you felt  safe  because everyone knew , you see ...
When the day finished off with scraps wrapped in The Sun newspaper shared amongst your friends whom you spent climbing trees navigating yourselves scumping apples over the old mans private fence ...

Past Times 2

Five stones
                closing times
radiograms and
              seventy-eights
school caps
              sticklebacks
saturday flicks,pooh sticks

Charabancs
              steam trains
linoleum
              oil cloth
mangles
              fish paste
sandwich spread

Hot towel shaves
        cut-throat razor
shopping baskets
          paper bags
braces,plimsoles
short,back
          and sides

Wizard beano
        and hotspur
lending libraries
picturegoer,
                road to
Bridget Bardot
            Marilyn Monroe

Dripping
          coal fires
antimacassars
nylons,suspenders
crumpets
          and toast

Brown and mild
        barrelled beer
conkers,school milk
blackboard rubbers
          and liftup desk lids
times-tabled
                school-kids

Draughts
        and allotments
rusty bikes
        roller skates
satchels and scrumping
pounds,shillings
            and pence

Saved In My Memorybank

Five stones closing times 
     radiograms & seventy-eights
 school caps      sticklebacks
 saturday flicks    pooh sticks
 Charabancs         steam trains
 linoleum oil cloth
 mangles      fish paste sandwich spread

 Hot towel shaves    cut-throat razor
 shopping baskets    paper bags 
braces, & plimsoles 
      short    back& sides

Wizard Beano & Hotspur 
lending libraries    &picturegoer
roadfilms Bridget Bardot & Marilyn Monroe

 Dripping     coal fires 
                antimacassars
 nylons suspenders 
crumpets &toast 
Brown &mild        barrelled beer
 conkers
school milk 

     blackboard rubbers & liftup desk lids
 times-tabled school-kids
Draughts & allotments
 rusty bikes     roller skates
 satchels &scrumping 
with mates
hence
no
pounds  shillings or        pence

Gun Duel

I really kept no score 
Yet the signal contest wore
Give us your best, give us more
Let the bore of your gun be forty four

A no holds barred Wild West contest
Gunning for the heart in our chest
Some wore a bulletproof vest
Shot in head, laid to rest

Out in the open, no refuge
Gun equalises small and huge
Some contestants used subterfuge
Single bullet more potent than a deluge

Doc Holliday legend was dying of cancer
Long barrelled 44 had all the answers
Lighting fast was flicker of trigger 
Steely eyes that did not waver 

23-April-2021

Guns poetry contest
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco

Binary 101

Binary 101

Numerically double-edged,
Duplicitous it is paired
Likewise and two fold
Its twin coded binate, not spared.

Double barrelled
Bilateral couple,
teamed; 
braced – unified.

Mated and single
Coupled, unpaired
Mixed radix,
Can be shared.

Digitally based
Systematically aced
Zero blocks the chain

Based at one
The power redefines
Linear thinking holds

Only conversion
Characterises
The values you will find
Inside binary lines

Those Were the Days

Five stones     
                 closing times
radiograms and
               seventy-eights
school caps
               sticklebacks
saturday flicks,pooh sticks

Charabancs
               steam trains
linoleum
               oil cloth
mangles
               fish paste
sandwich spread

Hot towel shaves
        cut-throat razor
shopping baskets
          paper bags
braces,plimsoles
short,back
           and sides

Wizard beano
         and hotspur
lending libraries
picturegoer,
                road to
Bridget Bardot
            Marilyn Monroe

Dripping 
           coal fires
antimacassars
nylons,suspenders
crumpets 
           and toast

Brown and mild
        barrelled beer
conkers,school milk
blackboard rubbers
          and liftup desk lids
times-tabled 
                school-kids

Draughts
        and allotments
rusty bikes
         roller skates
satchels and scrumping
pounds,shillings
             and pence

The Nefarious Scream- the Dark and Twisted Contest

The Nefarios Scream

Camping in  isolated lands of parks and creeks
Untold experiences of adventurous beauty
Nefarious acts eclipse joys of freedom 
Blowing up cars to bar any escape
Tents knifed through in the darkness of the night
Wakening frightened sleepy eyed  tourists
Throats slit of those who rebel and abuse
Serial killer chases the gutsy that escaped
Muffle the defiant eye to jab out screams
Clanging chains, barrelled guns, hammers et al
Adorn his barricaded blood stained dungeons 
Adventures  in foreign land turn uglier than nightmares
Destinations of destined stumbled into zones horrific
Families and lovers pine with unrequited inquiries
Investigators baffled over the  ambiguous maniac
Who finger by finger tortured the life out of tourists
Exulting over his power of creating a world of zombies
A bomb he carried to blow up the next tourist van
Helpless travellers plea's rippled his blood
Slow and steady steps he came closer to van
An unseen rattler uncoiled rattling his next step
Hissing his breath away in the loudest scream


 
Balveen Cheema
September 20, 2015
Contest: The Dark and Twisted
Sponsor: Nathan D



I'm

Language Cannibals

Consuming brain waves from plentiful touch
Exchange of sorrow, mirth, and incredulous dirges
Following the sign of the times
Discourse as it reeks from chest cavities
Angsting bloated bodies barrelled into walking murmur
You sleepy disease fungal fortunes run amiss
Runinous with divisive claims

Enter the Dragon

It was on a Sunday morning
When the dragon came to call
It just barrelled through the doorway
And it landed in the hall

Dressed in green it sauntered in
Ignoring our objection
Wandering from room to room
Performing its inspection

Till finally it came to rest
And on the sofa sat
It was mean and it was ugly
It was hideous and fat

The beast demanded food and drink
Cheese sandwiches and more
I know it seems quite scary, but
She is my mother in law

Damned By the Bomb

Lancaster formations
One two and three
To attack the dams
Off Industrial Germany
 
Targets to hit
In the Ruhr valley
Power providers
Canal alley
 
RAF Scampton
Near Lincoln they load
This barrelled bomb
Bounced to explode
 
Runway lined
Engines roar
Crews ready 
Tally Ho!
 
Flying low to reach their quest
Allied pilots at their best
Flak explodes all around
As the Germans hear our engine sounds
 
Targets reached as they circle round
To gauge their height as it bounces sound
Steady steady let her go
As it hits the water
First bounce slow
 
Second bounce, momentum gain
These dams, not to be the same
Clinical strike as it hits the wall
Sinks, explodes 
Crumbling walls
 
Minutes pass
As the crew's look back
To observe the severity of the attack
Nearly out of sight, as the walls finally gave
Cascades of water in thunderous rage
 
The Möhne and Eder breached as planned
Missions accomplished on these German dams
German war effort, hampered for a spell
As for the rest of the conflict
Time would tell


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php

The Creed In This Heat of Confusion...What Do I Do

I.
Astronomical Ups and Downs,
Chronological In and Outs,
Agronomical Tractors and their Marijuana Out-fits,
Egocentrical Monks and Perverts,
Economical Charts and Cost pricing,
Methodological Costs and Expenses,
Sociological Frosts and Warm kindness,
Grease on my coat,Row this damn boat,
Can God's Clay Decay,
Can Ants learn to play in the Sunlight,
We must all roast and eat Vampires toasted in bread and salt.

II.
Madhatters have learnt to  Drink Malt,
Five year olds have learnt to Drink more than one bottle of Beer,
You must have an eye for these and more of your roasted swine-in-Chilli 
peppers,
Leave my colonies to be manned by my faithful and well trained Monkeys,
I will lead the assault for Rome,Paris and your little Malta,
I will sit and wait for the sun to Fall Asunder,
The day Bread never wants to called a Consortium of Crumbs,
Angels will come fetch your Rare Flowers...Oh! Cupid,
Your cup has drunken you stupid,
We are here for the big Fight sheath all Swords...Draw and shoot off your filthy 
barrelled guns.

• Short Barrelled Poems
• Famous Barrelled Poems
• Best Barrelled Poems
• Read Barrelled Poems
• Long Barrelled Poems
• Barrelled Quotes