Best Armed To The Teeth Poems
Mahanaim
Israel’s father, Jacob
had lived a life of tricks and cons,
till at last he’d met his match of matches
when he came face to face with his mighty God.
All because he had conned his brother, Esau
out of his life’s most precious thing,
it was the birthright of the first born son
but to Esau, his stomach came first so it didn’t mean a thing.
After many years of living with Laban, Jacob’s trickster father-in-law
he took leave with his wives, servants and cattle and headed back to his home,
but hearing that Esau was hot on his trail with 400 men
he was fearful and thinking, ‘Is this the way it was all going to end”?
Jacob was so troubled, how could he fight so many
with my wives, and servants and such a small little band,
yet he stopped by the side of the road for some much needed sleep
and found to him, the Lord’s mighty outstretched hand in a place he call, Mahanaim.
Yes, it is true, the Lord pulled back Heaven’s canvas
and revealed to him, God’s infinite provision and His waiting second camp,
Who was armed to the teeth and ready to defend son, Jacob
by giving revelation of what it means to live by God’s Word’s lamp.
King David to, trusted in the provision of the Lord
while running from Absalom, his son,
David also came to Mahanaim
and found restoration, healing, and the battle now won.
Now, in these times, we to are learning the secrets
of leaning totally on His breast,
doing all that we can do for us and others
and watching and trusting our Father to do all of the rest.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
They stand on the corner anything you want they got,
Some do the deals some run the money and some call shots,
All of them are ready to pop at the first signs of a problem,
Smith n Weston and Glock know just how to solve them,
These boys are no joke they stay with one in the chamber,
They be the real definition of a true gang banger,
Quick to snatch a life in a min with no second guessing,
Putting snitches in body bags so that they learn they lesson,
This isn't a hobby for them this is everyday life,
They married to the game no time for kids and wife's,
Blood in and blood out or sometimes plata o plomo,
Turning your back on your family is a major nono,
It's getting crazy on these streets these boys run in groups,
Most of them were trained by the army so it's groups of troops,
Armed to the teeth with new age armor and weapons,
If you see them on your block get your self to stepping,
Cause they show no remorse innocent or not,
When bullets start flying everyone's getting shot.
~DM2~
Armed to the teeth, but not in the head
Soon the ground will be covered with dead
Shooting and fighting, explosions galore
Wounded fall to the ground, see the blood pour
Technology making the casualties increase
It seems that our warlike nature won’t cease
Skirmishes and battles, the war has no end
Doctors perform triage, some wounded they mend
Confidence slipping away from the troops every hour
Brute force and ammunition, the measure of power
Each side has their losses but keep fighting on
The reason for war is all a big con
Economy the reason, false causes the shield
Covered up by the blood of the dead on the field
Stone cold, committed, their expression soon thaws
Enlisted, now dying for another man’s cause
This world is lovely
Only a pinch of salt
#
He slipped out the back door
He attacked the wrong bed
#
World is so great
Linda Andie Eve Paul Olive...infinity
#
My wife kissed a wrong man
me
#
I cannot love balloons
They have no hearts
#
My dog sniffed my fingers
Felt them last year's sausages
#
I loved her armed to the teeth
My wife a dentist
#
Ink well was dry
Heat of the poems
#
eel babies are playing
primordial vibrations
#
My wife is a poltergeist's daughter
I own a dancing house
#
My neighbor's wife was briefest
In a bathing suit
#
Birthday suit and death day suit
are the same
#
I met my wife in a goblin's party
She was gobbling turkey
#
I search myself in a grain of sand
In the universe of my wife
#
Susie my anachronistic wife
Straddling Rip Van Winkle
#
I saw a pterodactyl was laying eggs
In my wife's mouth when I attempted a kiss
#
Poets,I cannot be blamed
How can I love an invisible wife?
#
I was surfing the girl
Could not earn brownie points
#
Vultures are knocked silly by the impact of
Love
#
She blushed and
Sky became red
#
Don't carp about the poor service at the restaurant Susie
They were in a daze when they saw you
#
Susie my wife went to neighbor's house
Found fault with him and slapped to the pride of his spouse
#
I can't trust wife of that ilk
She steals my Meenie's milk
#
Ghosts are lovely people
They give us company in death
#
Bird's eye view
A stomping balloon my wife Moondew
Form:
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Blind...with the beauty and symmetry of nature
Can't espy the astonishing and sedate scenes of ardour
Just living with the greatest and blindest darkness
Imageless and almost senseless...
Deaf...with the mellifluous and profound music of amity
Can't harken the serene and blithe tune of natural creativity
Just living with my own nothingness
Dumb and almost senseless...
Mute...can't explode feelings and heartstrings through words and expositions
Can't speak and expound my real emotions
Can't shout out loud, just living with silence - soundless
Dumb and almost senseless...
Paralyzed...can't accomplish what was desired to achieve
Can't act, can’t execute, can’t move - there's no relieve
Just living with myself, occupied by loneliness
Cripple and now USELESS
Balked, feeble, depraved, weak - a YOUNG LOSER
Living with the lies through one's teeth? Will never be ...
And will never SURRENDER
Still BREATHING
BELIEVING...
KNEELING...
PRAYING...
~~~Armed to the TEETH with Faith and Devotion~~~
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Villanelle : The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 18
World in which is ingrained innate violence
Where nation-States all hell-bent on blitz wars
He who abstains from doing harm commits offence
Is branded traitor parasite perched on fence
On conscientious objector shine no stars
World in which is ingrained innate violence
Even cowards by nature obtain licence
To kill at will armed to the teeth in holy wars
He who abstains from doing harm commits offence
The non-violent sport no medals bright dense
Nor do they rape their loved ones inflicting scars
World in which is ingrained innate violence
Boosting ego is the craft of violence
Insecure feelings drive muscle-man jaws
He who abstains from doing harm commits offence
Do no harm and attain pure inner silence
Resort to arms let rage Raskolnikov indoors
World in which is ingrained innate violence
He who abstains from doing harm commits offence
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
I sail on an ocean of custard and jam,
Aboard a ship made of biscuits and bread.
I am the sweet toothed pirate I am,
And clearly not right in the head.
Nebulous streams clouding my brain,
Give me some peculiar thoughts,
I wear a vest made of liquorice sticks,
And a pair of marzipan shorts.
With my motley crew of gingerbread men,
Who are armed to the teeth with balloons,
We go round the world, kidnapping cakes,
While we gorge on sweet macaroons.
Here’s your roaming reporter, the Average Joe,
Always reporting, always on the go.
I’m reporting today on the impending battle,
As state troops amass in the city of Seattle.
Much to the surprise of our neighbors up North,
The state of Washington is marching forth
To capture Vancouver Island and Victoria city
Because, being Canadian, she’s much too pretty.
“We’ll just extend the longitude in a straight line;
Gerrymandering is accomplished all of the time”,
Says the proud Governor of the Evergreen State,
Hoping the Mounties rally too late.
“Victoria, for Canada, is too far south
Sitting right dab in the middle of Puget Sound’s mouth,
To Washington state she rightfully belongs
And we shall take her with a rallying throng.
“British Columbia can find a new capitol city.
Vancouver, from the Olympics, everyone knows is so pretty.
Just give us Victoria without any fight
To keep peace between us, you know it’s just right.”
So off I now ride in this navy of ferries
On a surprise attack with a border to vary
Armed to the teeth with passport in hand
Which all of us need now to enter this land.
When next I am able to send a report to you
I’m hoping this seizure is successfully through
And Washington State will have Victoria to claim
As a city of her own, adding more to our fame.
Yellow-John Matthews, he sailed upon the main
A pirate who would prey on them all.
Spanish of British, it was no matter
Before him they all were all bound to fall.
He stood six feet, of medium frame,
Was never seen without his tricorn.
He was crowned with hair, yellow as sun,
As were all the bastards to him born.
For six long years he filled his coffers,
A fortune for ten men plus two.
But he kept on sailing, for he loved the rush
Of combat and running men through.
They one day the crown sent out a ship,
A ship of the line, armed to the teeth.
It caught Yellow-John off old Havana,
And sent his ship down to the reefs.
The pirates they swam, and made it to shore,
And were captured there by the Spanish.
They strung them up high for all to see,
A punishment that the crime did fit.
But Yellow-John never made it to shore,
They all assumed that he drowned.
His death was the talk all the next week
In the taverns of Port Royal town.
Four hundred years later, off Somalia
New pirates sailed to seize ships.
A sudden uptick bought the navy quick,
To blast the damn pirates to bits!
The crisis reached its bloody peak
When a thousand-foot tanker was seized.
That the pirates would go for such a ship
The navy folk just could not believe.
The sent out the SEALs, scaling the sides,
Onto the big ship’s deck they stormed,
Shooting down pirates who dared to fight,
Destroying their foes, as in norm.
One SEAL reached the bridge and saw a man
Who clearly was not a Somali.
Wearing jeans, a shirt, and a tricorn hat,
He looked out of place as could be.
The SEAL raised his gun, and fired a shot,
The slug it went straight but nit none.
The blonde man vanished into the air,
Dispersed clean in the mid-day sun.
The SEAL he came out and said not a word,
For who in the world would believe it?
He scratched his yellow hair, and though back
To a tale his gramma told him when sick.
It had been told of an ancestor bold,
Who had lived his life as a buccaneer.
The SEAL supposed now he’d not got his fill,
And from the grave had rose to privateer…
A kiss from her lips are sweeter than honey, sweeter than nectar
a blessing from disaster
till her kiss spreads the venom from her poison to your brain
the sickest pain, felt from undercover, she hit the biggest the vein
Vanity, she lured you in with vanity
discreetly she lured you in with pleasantries
whispered fantasies of slipping out of her tight red dress
taunting you in distress with constant missteps, oh she's a tease
but a tease armed to the teeth in black leather and lace
to tie you up with a whip over your neck like a noose
pulling the strings harder threatening to kill
with looks like that, she's guaranteed to have your heart on a string
tugging in tow like a lost abused puppy
but you like the attention you cowardly dog
you like the attention
Those ruby red lips, the perfect actress
you let her spill the milk in your ears
a mess you can't clean up, a mess you can't cry over
as you feel you're friends, the very best of friends
but there's a ring of rumors surrounding you like daffodils on a banister
while she the pretender is the ring leader
Trust in your trust and you'll find you're the deceiver
being deceived by the pair of slender sleek legs you claim to detest
but you know you have the fondness in your heart
for those ruby red heels stepping all over your self esteem
You want to be the prom queen, date the prom queen
dominate the social scene
dance with the angel of the school
her hair, a waterfall of grace
twin green eyes, a jade dragon engraved in twin marble stones
you're in love in more ways than one
yet you dance with the cold air of the outside world
as you're mortified that she winked at you from across the universe
stealing a kiss from the rival you loathe
stealing your dreams, stealing your world, shattering your songs
Now you sit here at your computer, typing a wish list
counting all the wishes you wish were true
but all the wishes you conjure up involve her and you
letting this ruby red seductress, a leeching parasite, envelope you
Upper class clowns and socialists
always whining from their crystal palaces.
Fine dining ...greasy lipped pimps
Lecturing the working man, on global warming,
who just topped off their private ride
with ozone poking jet fuel piss-
Upper class clowns and socialists,
always cawing about American gluttony
the distribution of wealth.
While wearing dead pelts around swollen necks and double chins
blood diamonds dangling from pampered pinkies
weeping crocodile tears about the evils
of the second amendment..
While behind Clive Christian scented ((((gated communities)))))
their private security dogs armed to the teeth-
Upper class clowns and socialists
burning brooks,,, babbling about lack of freedom
while strolling naked over minimum waged-manicured lawns.
dipping painted toes in minimum waged maintained pools
sipping minimum waged martinis under a commies red dawn..
So eager to take you to task
for not wearing one of their commie red masks.
Playing their little shrinking violet games...
Only half out of their-socialist closets.
hypocritical yapping -socialist autocrats-
The crazy in me came out last week,
but I don't care???
Normally my house would be armed to the teeth,
waiting for some form of retribution,
normally i'd be bouncing off the walls with paranoia,
darting in and out the windows.
My mind thinks about it,
but i'm not fazed,
i'm calm,
my mind just won't fixate on it.
eerie calmness....
but I still wait for whats to come.
death comes to us all...
The town-crier said it thirty-many years ago
About the pool of blood that swept my fathers time
Not excluding the famous town-crier of that era
People freely bought their ticket to heaven and hell
The goats refused to listen to the town-crier voice
Atlast the beautiful timebomb exploded
My town-crier died in the process
The moon is black again with evil
Frustrated hungry souls litter again
Many,more mouths hungry
They will gather at the jungle of jungles
Armed to the teeth,chest,face,legs and hands
My metal gong is crying to the ears that cares
Twenty-twenty the newworld said
Twenty-fifteen the gong master says
Mouths would feed on carcase
Conspicuous ribs,ostrich necks,mosquito legs,insane
pot bellies
The boys are oiling their metals in the jungle
The magicians are still drinking wine in the rocks
Hungry mouths dropped like grapes and mangoes
Moremi and Amina come with utmost speed
Deadly spirits art hunting for blood blood blood
The celestial fire is burning, the blood bank opens
Where is my blanket
Where is my metal gong
Where is my slaughtered heart
The sky is red with blood
But will be washed away with flood someday
Deadly disease would ravage
Fine flesh of the land, my land, our land
Worst that the battle of cakes
Worst than the battle of the windmill
Worst than the battle of cowshed
Trigger target target would bid my
Chummy chicks to the deep blue sea of silence
The battle of the jungle would be won but lost
Bloodiest blood bath of our time my time
Grandad was a sea dog,
Who'd sailed the seven seas.
He told of his adventures
As we sat around his knees.
He told of a giant octopus
With tentacles aplenty,
We cried "how many grandad,"
He said "I reckon twenty."
He said it had one giant eye
And a sharp and deadly beak,
And what it did to sailors
Was too horrible to speak.
Then there was the enormous shark
That could bite a ship in two,
Once everyone fell overboard
The shark would eat the crew.
He saw ghostly pirate ships
Crewed by pirates, long since dead
Just skeletons, armed to the teeth
Waving swords about their heads.
He said he'd swam with mermaids
And wrestled with a squid,
Then danced the conga with an eel
That's what my grandad did.
We loved to listen to grandad
And the adventures he regaled,
Not only was he a sea dog,
But the king, of telling tales.
She was armed to the teeth with just a pen and a pad
She was loaded like a spring with just her thoughts in hand
With a burning passion, she furiously wrote
Her deep-rooted feelings had been abruptly provoked
A battleground of truth and bitter words combined
There were deep cut wounds that clouded her mind
Emotions emerged from where she couldn't hide
To remember her battle scars killed her inside
So much pain in her heart, so much burden it had
Her tears swept most of the words on the pad
She always wrote, but no one listened, no one cared
Her beautiful verses were always left unknown and unshared
Such powerful words for her timid demeanor and poetic spark
as for her brilliant mind, it would be forever left in the dark
Found next to her cold body was a letter dampened by tears
if only she had been listened to by friendly ears
As for the message found, just the last line could be read:
"But no one ever knew, no one will ever know what I've said!"