The job is done
Bruises and broken bones
He will live to see another day
"Just end him already" chants the crowd
F*cking psychopaths
Poor guy got what he deserved
Lucky him I made up my mind already
How sick you have got to be
To yell like that for a blood bath
He made his mistakes like everyone else
And yet, people act like judges
His kite really got struck by a sudden gust
A bulge on the side of his hip caught my eye
It was his perfectly polished and cocked back pistol
Unfortunately for him, his string was fragile
His Beretta had a glare
Shiny enough to change my mind...
Do bears torture animals? No.
Do wolves tear you apart before they kill you? No.
It is man who tears the wings off butterflies.
It is child who shoots cats with a Beretta?
Do alligators eat you alive? Maybe.
But do they torment you first and let you see
The other body parts they keep in their refrigerator first?
Do pumas eat your arms first?
No. They eat your head; putting you out of your misery fast.
Do elephants, rhinos, zebras, lions or tigers use an Uzi?
Do stingray, crocodiles, cobras or wolves use AK-47’s?
Do any of these dangerous animals mow down children in grade schools?
Do any of these dangerous animals ruin the Ozone layer so everyone will die faster?
Who is the dangerous animal?
Who is the cruelest?
It is a quandary is it not?
I write to live
without it I can't see a life ahead of it
Impressions I can't get addicted
to making them
Used too skate in downtown Los Angeles
Used too hit Venice
just too smoke and look at envision
Different notebooks driven in silence
by scriptures
The skyscrapers like a phenomenal creature
I'm never alone
I don't need a role I am with the ghouls
Everyone lies everyone sides everyone dies
alone
It's just my era like I let loose with a Beretta
No art or potential your brain melted by the media
No thoughts or plans to make it on your own
I'll let you fall you get back on your feet alone
Babies with empty bellies
go hungry,
every refugee day
While numerical chambers
of alphabet soup weaponry
are fully stocked
War rations
on collateral display
AK-47
50-cal RPG’s
M-16
9 millimeter Beretta,
45-Uzi
1911-380 Browning
Mac-10 semi-auto magazine
Military grade A munitions
fill the land
with walking dead bodies desiccated,
full of misery
And the starving babies,
with empty bellies bloated,
got plenty lead bullets
enough to eat
Courtesy of military charity
Another negotiated famine
is a tenuous peace
The latest victims
of a televised snuff feast
A full arsenal of destruction
is a ravenous armory
Devouring hope
of the widows and orphans,
left to beg
for a morsel of sanction bread —
Degradated war-torn relief
Courtesy of military charity
Hush child,
give Mama a bosom suckled smile
Let me bathe you
sweetly in nursery rhyme tears
Hope to heaven
that it soothe your infant fears
Close your eyes,
don’t listen to the 313 area aria
drive-by lullaby
Snow White blue eyes
be spreading full moon wolf fright
Wearing a siren badge,
crimson bright Red flashing light,
she’s low Riding thru the Hood
Nana say that Po’-po’ girl
is just plain undercover no good
She packs a lean, mean Beretta
in her black widow hip-holster purse
Gat a 9-mil poisonous will ...
it always collects
the death-dealer inheritance bill
Little one,
I’m afraid to say,
she’s riding around tonight still
Close your eyes,
don’t listen to the 313 area aria
drive-by lullaby
Try not to hear
the nightly,
ghetto coroner cries —
The pavement pillow woes
of Black rose smothered sighs
Little baby,
it pains me to say:
Soon,
you gon have to open your eyes
Jack is in love
with his main trigger squeeze
Daniel’s in love,
got bottled up
Passion
pressure is a light pull release
Drawing the corked trigger
puts a Happy Hour liquid cap in his heart
His precious metal baby
ain’t no gun shy lady
She gives him heated recoil satisfaction
They both got a kinetic, spherical attraction
Her quicksilver hair trigger
makes his whole body quiver
Jack’s her hot finger man,
his praising tongue never gets jammed
Daniel’s bullet affection always grows bigger,
gives her steamy hot flashes that deliver
J.D. is liquored up in love
with his main trigger squeeze
She’s a Gun-and-Barrel gal,
a metal bathing suit beauty queen
An ammo pin-up centerfold sex machine,
in a Soldier of Fortune magazine
Mr. Jack Daniel
is so liquored up in love
with his Miss Beretta 9-mil baby
They’re richly joined to the hip,
strapped on leather to skin together
She’s a porcelain face stone killer —
a sleek, sexy death dealer
Gives J.D., her main lover, climax shivers:
That intoxicating power ******,
when he squeezes her clicked trigger
Yesterday is hell sifted away
tomorrow is heaven
a myth...
no bye, no aloha
complex married
misunderstood
unable to communicate
hate
a retaliating stranger who never saw first blood
eyes red
puddled with break down
habits grab for stimuli
the pill, the Beretta for the take down
longing to read, when ability limits him to simply write
this sophomoric curse
pain receptors dulled via sleep
yet the light pink demons creep
reminding blind self
nothing's mitigated
if only he could speak
Brahms whistles from the desk
supplementing a place in life
the creative act
a hard fought solitude
terrible and tremendous
weeks ago
jaws of life pried his body from a car full of lies
lucky to be alive
today
he's stuck in a room of no truths
where enemies pretend to be friends
and blood stains, like cries
never dry...
Yesterday is hell sifted away
tomorrow is heaven
a myth...
no bye, no aloha
He laid there, warm and happy. Defeated as one, but successful as two.
A bullet hole straight through his chest. Another dark green uniform stained,
By the dark red liquid seeping through the torn fabric.
One hundred and one desperate young soldiers, laid to rest by the tip of his pistol.
A rifle jammed and abandoned just a mile away.
The last puff of smoked tobacco, freely evaporates into the broken spans of oxygen.
Fought for his family, his country, his land and our land.
Breached toward liberty, and founded it. At the tip of another’s Beretta M9…
This is America, America is you. America is he, she, and me.
I am “The America”.
Open and free, to you, including me. I’ve held my guard, stood stiff and tall.
Fought hard, till this day, to wave “hello”, to the one race “individuals” every single day.
Wave back, or don’t wave at all, I’ll respect you as an American and not a flaw.
United or divided; we are one nation, that stands under religion, we are one nation.
Black, white, tall, or small, whatever it is, WE respect all.
Our flag does and will, stand to protect us all.
WE ARE ONE NATION, FOREVER YOU AND I.
Crazy as you are horrifiC
Raving, ranting shooteR
Always carrying your berettA
Zigzag from bullets that whiZ
Yearning to cause tragedY
Monster fueled by deliriuM
Arise from paranoiA
Never to be seen agaiN
He loses himself in the smell of black powder,
the barrel is still smoking from the blast.
The people around him only scream louder,
as he can not even remember his own past.
His eyes burn with flames of another vendetta,
there is nothing but pain in his corrupted soul.
He loads another clip into his charcoal beretta,
and finishes his victim, 3 days before his parole.
The devil embraced him like his own son,
like a puppet master pulling on the strings.
Whispering "pull back the trigger on the gun,"
and enjoy the very thrill that murder brings.
He felt dead to the world that he once knew,
and so those who made him so would pay.
Raised in nothing but violence as he grew,
he dropped his weapon and tried to get away.
With all of his force he raced to the door,
but this time there was simply no way out.
Waves of bullets dropped him to the floor,
a lifeless smile as blood poured from his mouth.
Until this day his death is forever unknown,
some say that it was suicide from mental disease.
The truth is that he did not die alone,
a horned silhouette that roams among the trees.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.