Best Artilleries Poems
DAWN
Disagreement the reason of the war
Day, place and time is set
Arrangements begins. Arsenals are emptied
Recruitment had finished, training almost done
The day comes, marching begins
In a very orderly manner, the two opposite sides
Line up on the far ends of the virgin field
For some hours, some marchings are done at both sides
News and strategies are being spread by scout men
When everything is set the war is set.
Commandant Generals of both sides
On their horses meet at the middle of the fertile field
The favorite side ask his enemy to surrender
The enemy refuses, the generals moves
Back to the top of the hills to give supreme orders.
Artilleries are loaded, infantry fix their bayonets
Squadrons check their lances and sabers
Common soldiers fear for their lives
Sergeants suppress their fears ready to act on orders.
Brigadiers, colonels, and captains ready to give order.
Signals are given, “fire!” Artilleries twenty at once, vomit deaths
They land, they uproot they fertile soil. Guns in the air,
Hands up, heads up mouths up all down. Voices of agony were heard.
After two rounds, the opposite withdraw not retreat
Thinking they did they move forward, the opposite attack
NOON
The infantry open up for the cavalry
At full horse power speed they attack
Too late to use artilleries now
But it made some horses tumble, about a fifty
Six hundred horse ran to the infantry
Infantry too late for squares ran to the cavalry
They fired there muskets, brought down some sixty horses
It was the time of the cavalry lances where release
Unlike arrows it killed two at a time. The cavalry ran
On the infantry. Head out of necks, arms out of scapulas, and legs out of hips.
The whole army retreats, they send their whole cavalry
Cavalry meets cavalry. One thousand lances released on a four hundred
Horrible! Men were carried from horses to horses, lances
Horse were raise up high, neighs turn to roars, lances
Now nine hundred and fifty to sixty, the opposite retreat.
The colonel seeing the sixty running ordered a chase. Fool!
The opposite's Brigadiers laughs, he ordered his brigade
To get ready. After their sixty drove in
The infantry made squares. At their captain's orders.
Salvo's were head, two thousand shots on a nine hundred and fifty.
Sympathetic bullets entered heads and hearts horses tumbled
They caused confusion, de-horse horsemen ran back.
It was only a ninety that penetrated killing a forty
Twenty horsemen retreated with wounds
There was silence, scout men where sent to count losses
EVENING
Corpses and torsos lay on the disvirgined field, some have lances on there
heads
Some bayonets on their hearts, some sabers in their stomachs.
Blood flowed like water. Lucky ones groans
But they are killed by the other wounded enemies
The cloud turns red. More still to go.
They wait for whom to attack first, the opposites did
They never touched their artilleries when their bombardiers did
Guns danced in the air, hands up, heads up, mouths up all down.
Their artillery returned fire, the same happened
The opposite had more arms, the killed more.
It was now time for the royal armies.
Each sides commanded by the Field Marshals.
White horses took to the fronts the whole army at the back
Seeing their Field Marshal’s Very Light the horses moved
The clashed was not ordinary. It was spiritual.
Heads rolled in the air legs and arms dance alone
For an hour the war came to its peak.
Artilleries were fired, square where made
And the cavalry moved like stampedes
The war was now disorganized swords were drawn.
Swordsmen reined while musketeers failed
Ten thousand men all dead of a course side will have to win
It was only a difference of hundred men.
The reason for war?
A princess who is now married to a charming peasant.
Do i have a heart?
They ask.
I have.
A big one.
But it only pumps blood.
It circulates oxygen through my artilleries
and sustains every breath i take in.
I am dead without a heart.
So i have a heart.
Do i have a heart?
They ask.
No. I don’t.
I can only feel what i want to feel.
I’m different from others.
They care even for what they shouldn’t.
For me, i care for what i care for.
So i don’t have a heart they say.
Yet they murdered my heart in its infancy.
They told me it hurt in love.
They used pillows to suffocate my heart.
Now it cant breath.
With a dead heart i walk.
Deep down i want to live.
But am dead. Dead in love.
No need to live whiles it hurts.
Such is the dark tunnel my heart walks each night.
I try to nurse it.
I clean it and make it a home for someone.
They live in at first with joy then it fades.
In pain i watch them leave.
So i say me and love don’t get along.
With patches on my heart,
i face each love story knowing it wont end as i dream
but i want to dream into the deepest sides of hearts.
Maybe there, i will come to life.
With deep and bleeding scars i want to face love again.
Will i survive?
So i have a heart but they killed it.
Survival has been my thing
but surviving today and Dying the next day is dreadful.
How do i survive knowing they caused it all.
Knowing they murdered my heart in cold blood.
My tears drop as rain.
Rain mixed with blood and emotions.
Tears that carries my dreams out.
Did i dream?
Yes i did. But they woke me up.
THE UNICORN
Ever seen a more beautiful sight?
She is drowning into the wind
All sail set,
Triple tangled,
Purple pearl gears,
Glittering glassy artilleries,
Unrivalled weaponry.
Isn't she a beauty
She's got the wind behind.
Look at the velocity she's setting,
Barely noticing the Barbados.
With a grip of urn full of rum
And the finest of tobacco
The hearts of the sail's set
For the audacity of hope.
The red pennant,
The blood line's cold
And every sea captain
Looks upon that flag
For he knows he faces a fight to death
And then he saw her,
As an apparition mounting from the dead.
The sea rose in it watery execution.
But I was told sea lion don't flee
From the wavers watery wonders.
Instead, he staggers not but swaggers on
Until they sail past the North Pole
And trodden upon the sands of Sahara.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2014.
He had a dream
Actually, it was a passion
The dream took him away
To the seas, the sands, the ventures
Beyond this land, onto foreign soil
He had a dream
It was more than a mere illusion
The dream breathed hope and faith
It colored his thoughts in prayers
Wrote poetry through his caress
He had a dream
To reach beyond the walls
Of a land filled with soldiers
To a land that needed his boldness
A land that would be freed from wars
He had a dream
Captivating even his mornings
With thoughts of fulfilling his destiny
Blessing others with his abilities
His skills with weapons and artilleries
He had a dream
Focusing on winning sweet peace
On foreign soil, where he would go
To give hope to the inhabitants
Of a time in need of armaments
He had a dream
His heart was filled with belief
In this calling to the frontlines
Where he could fulfill his fantasies
His hope of bringing accord to strange lands
He had a dream
And I don’t think he imagined the ending
When shells would wound and hearts would mourn
As he felt the fall cut through his heart’s hope
When his dream, his ambition, went up in smoke!
This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen is UP IN SMOKE
January 7, 2022
THE UNICORN
Ever seen a more beautiful sight?
She is drowning into the wind
All sail set,
Triple tangled,
Purple pearl gears,
Glittering glassy artilleries,
Unrivalled weaponry.
Isn't she a beauty
She's got the wind behind.
Look at the velocity she's setting,
Barely noticing the Barbados.
With a grip of urn full of rum
And the finest of tobacco
The hearts of the sail's set
For the audacity of hope.
The red pennant,
The blood line's cold
And every sea captain
Looks upon that flag
For he knows he faces a fight to death
And then he saw her,
As an apparition mounting from the dead.
The sea rose in it watery execution.
But I was told sea lion don't flee
From the wavers watery wonders.
Instead, he staggers not but swaggers on
Until they sail past the North Pole
And trodden upon the sands of Sahara.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2014.
JACK OF ALL CARDS??
Factotum polymath of a soul,
here's the one that has it all
yet a comprehensive sciolist still stand tall.
Jack of clubs??:
Lack two-thirds
but still ride against all odds,
as an odd, joins class of gods.
Jack of diamonds??:
Strengthens our bonds,
our jewelry glitters as our studs,
not all that glitters is gold.
Jack of hearts??:
Tactical winner-breaker of hearts
even without being caught in the act,
Says "flattery artilleries are my Arts".
Jack of spades??:
Goal-digger with no help or aids,
the home of jackasses is Hades,
till then, build legacy that never fades.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © July, 2020.
In the whispering embrace of twilight's veil,
Where shadows lengthen and echoes of memory swell,
I find myself drifting in a river of consciousness,
Young boys, brave and bold, stepping into eternity,
Like crimson poppies falling on sacred ground,
Innocence forsaken in villages and towns.
The cold hand of death and the longing for peace,
Rifles, bayonets, and thunderous artilleries,
Chasing clouds and dreaming of ethereal dames,
Lives consumed by the relentless flames of war.
Sunrises in their hearts, moonlight in their eyes,
Yet sunsets came too soon, heedless of their cries,
"Mother, father, your beloved son shall return,"
As a thousand splendid stars on each face burn.
Crimson poppies adorning their uniforms,
Tender and warm, a somber adornment,
Crimson poppies beneath their nails,
In their boots; their final exhale.
Tea and meals prepared by mother's hand,
Now only in memories, their presence sketched.
Father’s gruff voice and playful fights with siblings,
Echoes of a distant life, yet empowering.
Home was now a trench, a brotherhood forged,
In the spirit of camaraderie, their hearts engorged.
On muddied ground, their last stand found,
Young boys, brave and bold, forever bound.
In the twilight of thought, where lives entwine with dreams,
A song of melancholy rises, a tale of eternal seams,
For in the silence of eternity, they remain young stars,
Shining in the cosmos, freed from war's scars.
Like crimson poppies scattered across the battlefield,
Their sacrifice an unending testament, forever sealed,
In a world where innocence and courage eternally meld,
Their spirits whisper in the winds, in stories forever held.
Mystic and dramatic, their legacy weaves,
Through the fabric of time, in twilight's eaves,
A tapestry of valor, in crimson and gold,
Young boys, brave and bold, who shall never grow old.
some colors peep in
betwixt white-scenario ---
each claims to be a rainbow
white archeries set
white artilleries adorned ---
white and white is all around
10 January 2923
from the I-shaped metal
we set sail to the ocean
with a pirate crew over dozen
as lightning struck and tide crashes
to go over the horizon together
has always been the X mark we trailed
then there's the cannon boring hole
and the mermaid's enchanting call
to a single pebble, tied to a rugged rope
we drift away to the sea
some survived remained ashore
keeping stone to be afloat
being a rock is to keep adore
a new ship, as the old one's sunken
with few and enough crew
despite the artilleries and the abyss pull