Best Battleship Poems
We sat in the fallout
of last year’s gift exchange—
smashed angel centerpiece
taped back together
as good as a rogue bomb
if someone mentioned it.
Our voices dragged
like anchors through an ocean—
low, cold, summoning something
older than Kris Kringle.
I strained to recall
a time when it wasn’t like this.
The kitchen table—
a battleship, whipped tension
and potatoes. Dad’s knife slipped
once, then twice. Mammaw clutched
her rosary, counting sins like beads
of gravy on the drop-cloth. The whiskey
isn’t worth your soul, she whispered.
Our air was burned sugar—
a water pie, depression-era relic
left too long in the oven.
As they say, it’s the ingredients you have
that bake the cake.
Mom whispered, Let’s just get through it.
The corners of her mouth disappeared—
I knew better.
When my sister reached for a biscuit,
I grabbed her wrist—too hard.
Mine, I hissed. The room turned
quiet, the kind of silence snow wears
before an avalanche.
By sunset,
half of us were crying—
over the ruined pie,
or the family tree
we couldn’t stop cutting down.
When I reimagine it—
and I always do—
I don’t erase or the snowfall
or the tension.
Instead, I break the bread
without a flinch,
leave my sister’s wrist unmarked.
Dad’s carving hand steadies,
and in my version,
we get grandma drunk—
the old broad needed to lighten up.
The angel still shatters—
but this time we laugh,
our elbows knocking it over
reaching for seconds.
In the end, we huddle closer,
ash still falling, we celebrate
cold on the other side of the door.
Our hands stay sticky, glue healing
the angel’s cracked wings,
sugar crystallizing our fingerprints—
we press lightly, only to test for doneness,
we are patient,
we watch as snow smothers our wreckage—
call it DNA, an elegy.
Categories:
battleship, christmas,
Form:
Free verse
WHAT THE!!!.........WHO IS THIS???
WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'VE BEEN PHOTO SHOPPED???
How could that possibly be?
I only wanted the picture cropped and framed!
You can't really think that looks like me!
When did I become seven feet tall?
My eyes are brown, not Malachite green!
You've made my arms longer than my legs!
Why are my ears the color of Tangerine???
I like to smile but you've given me one
that goes off my face left and right!
And what's up with half of me looking like day,
and the other half looking like night???
You've given me two feet so long
I have to go to an intersection
just to turn around!
And I've never had hair down to my knees!!!
You might as well have let it touch the ground!
You've given me a superhero's upper body
with a waistline the size of a pen!
Oh, come on! Those legs look like two soda straws!
This is one weird looking specimen!!!
The camera was designed to reflect real life
in pictures portraying life as it is!
I don't take selfies every two seconds!!!
What sort of madness is this?
I am not a celebrity
who has to be over concerned with a look!
Please! Put everything back the way it was
for my request you have grossly mistook!
Whatever the world is coming to
some things really need to be stopped!
"You gave me a nose like a battleship anchor!!!"
WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'VE BEEN PHOTO SHOPPED???
WTA-IV 5/11/2016
Categories:
battleship, computer, humor, imagery, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
As related by my father;
Once, long ago,
he rear ended a cop car
Not a happy thing you know...
The cop had stopped short
But he wasn't the sort
To admit what he ought
He could find little reason
for legal action,
So he sought another sanction
He had my father tested
by a mental doc
Who asked stupid questions
You know that crock...
His defining question,
"What would you do if
you saw a flying saucer?"
Unflinching, my father replied,
"I'd shoot it down with my
battleship!"
The doc scoffed,
"And where'd you get
your battleship?"
Quick as a whip, he replied,
"The same place you got your
flying saucer!"
Categories:
battleship, father, funny, imagination, father,
Form:
Bio
Through my living room window
I see the most beautiful glen
With granites of grey
Towering up to a Ben
Greened spreads of heather
Purples and white
Amidst an ocean of green
A most wonderful sight
Forested slopes
Carpet the glens sides
Whilst a sparkling river
Centers the great divide
I look to the skies
As they turn battleship grey
An impending storm
Is heading my way
It looks like the glen
Is in for one hell of a night
The last storm we had
Was an explosive delight
Fork lightening, thunder
Obscured by clouds
One follows the other
Arcing out loud
I await the winds
And the vertical rains
Lashing with force
Against my cottage panes
Suddenly, theres a massive roar
More powerful than i have heard before
A sheet of lightening lit up the sky
Capturing the Ben of granite high
This man of old, caught in silhouette
Standing guard over his beautiful glen
This icon, this keeper of the Saltire Blue
Stands tall and proud like Highland men
Hours pass as i look on in awe
From my cottage window through the rain laiden panes
The power of nature in many scenes
Drums and a light show washed down with champagne
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php
Categories:
battleship, nature, placesbeautiful, beautiful,
Form:
Quatrain
The Flag of the British Merchant Navy
The Battle of the Atlantic
We’ve heard of the famous Mighty Hood that was sunk by a Bismarck shell
We know how many men were lost and the Skippers name as well
We’ve seen the Battleship Barham rolling on her side
before the huge explosion in which so many died
The Repulse and Prince of Wales on rout to the Singapore post
Both lost to the Jap torpedo planes off the Malaya coast
There’s a film about the Kelly sunk in the battle of Crete
And of the famous River Plate where we inflicted defeat
Yet who knows the names of the merchant ships sunk almost every day
Who knew that as these ships went down seamen were put off pay
Shipping Companies all did this to cut down on the cost
They lost one of their freighters, but how many lives were lost
What of the men on the Arctic run ferrying Russian supplies
The ocean full of U-boats and Bombers filling the skies
Sailing a gas filled Tanker some only in their teens
Wondering if they’ll freeze to death or be blown to smithereens
Wallowing along in a rusting tramp to save the Russian Nation
Struggling to make eight knots whilst trying to keep station
Should a seaman stay topside or should he seek his bunk
Knowing if you fall astern your certain to be sunk
Many a merchant ship now lies under the Barents Sea
Lost in a desperate struggle to set the Russians free
The ocean bed is littered with merchant seaman’s bones
Now to lay forever at peace with Davie Jones
As a Nation we are rightly proud of our Navy in World War Two
Likewise of the R.A.F and what we owe to the few
To the men who fought at Arhnem and Monty’s Desert Rats
To those who fought the Japanese to all we raise our hats
From the Home Guard to the S.O.E in it from the start
All of our Armed Services were keen to play their part
Each had lost so many when they counted the final muster
But the greatest loss was those who sailed under the Old Red Duster
Categories:
battleship, warmen, lost, lost, men,
Form:
//Bang bang//
//nothing but the blood of your homie is going through your mind//
//That's fine nothing but the blood of Jesus is going through mine//
//this is not just a line this is a design//
//you live in the hood//
// you think your a gangsta for good//
//you rob banks and shoot blanks//
//you think your big//
//you think your bad//
//but you can't even add//
//doesn't matter if your a blood or a crip//
//your in the same battleship//
//Your fight alongside Satan//
//doesn't give you light even when your eating bacon//
//you don't want to give up your lifestyle//
//even though your a juvenile//
//all you do is rob shops and Run from cops//
//why do you wanna live in fear//
//yell out its all clear//
// you can help people from repeating your past//
//they don't have to wear your cass//
//ask God to forgive you//
//now I just won the combative//
Categories:
battleship, bible, gospel, jesus, rap,
Form:
Rhyme
If you look closely, you will see
the masterpiece Winter painted
along mighty Erie’s shore
in the darkness, well into the early morning light.
You will see his fondness for delicate shades of gray,
How one by one he bends and sheaths the tall ornamental grass
in rounded silvery whiteness, and
how he paints ripply footprints at the water’s edge.
If you look closely, you will see
the fluttering gulls in the distance,
Seemingly small, yet not insignificant,
Every detail a pixel of life.
There’s more, if you look closer,
If you’re willing to brazen the biting wind,
Like the pile of jagged sticks, and mossy green rocks from summer,
Now a single creamy white ice sculpture.
And if you hold your eyes and heart wide open,
you can read the painter’s signature
written in the battleship gray sky—
December
Categories:
battleship, christmas, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Remax can sale you a home but can't sale you happiness. I never visit the state of Georgia but things do get a little peaches. See this what happens when you eat finger food and take out orders. I never receive your Southern Hospitality/ I couldn’t even receive a plate of food you cook/ you can finally see now when I walk away out your life forever I don’t even have a single word for you. Only thing you will receive from me is this middle finger. You was taught at young age to go to School and learn in Class. But surely class can’t teach you “CLASS”!!
A moment silent things were so quiet and complicate in the beginning I thought we could have reconnect /But just like the chips to connect four they don’t always stay in the same order. You had play a handful of games and this when the “Battleship” games has to end. Now I hope you feel the water rise from your sinking ship and allow your tears to fumble into your lap.
Categories:
battleship, absence, break up, loss,
Form:
Narrative
Ocean blue, upon lazy waves I share this tale
Of a behemoth beast- the color of death, lifeless and pale
Forty miles long he was, from snout to tail
A frightenin' thing onboard a fifty foot barque 'n' sail
Mindin' our own bi'sness we was when this thing hit
smashin the bulkheads water comin' in- "Oh Sh**"!
Off came my tongue bloody 'n' hurtin'- that which I bit
Hull cracked - middle o' that boat, it shur did split!
Dunno what made that crazy ole' whale think we was bait
That look in his eye shore was full o' hate
Mebbe he was just hungry- 'cause Billy Bob he ate,
Soon 'nuff that whale spit him out, guess he just didn't like the taste!
Categories:
battleship, funny,
Form:
Couplet
She sits there
electric as the third rail.
Entering Charles M.G.H.
but we’re still moving quickly
(finally
just three of us now).
Each disgorged passenger
leaves a seat
looking back at me
with a shiny black grin.
The wheels and track
wail
as a dilapidated wall
comes into view.
(He gets off)
so I look up
excited
and try to catch her eye
without being obvious-
I miss
and read an ad
for Citibank or something.
We're out over the bridge already
and the sailboats are sitting at odd angles
like Battleship pieces,
and I am stuck like the red peg
in a clear plastic hole.
Dazed, I watch the boats sway-
when they move,
it’s effortless.
I wish this train more empty.
Next Stop, Kendall / M.I.T.
jarred
back underground
to an unnatural dark,
but the city's full
and we've run out of bridge
so it's this ridiculous down.
The lights flicker
and I look around
desperate for an excuse
to talk
or to split a smile,
but nothing comes
and nothing is coming
but estranged
body language.
She is a queen
as I close my eyes
and step out of focus,
and the hypnotic wall
goes blurry
- - -
We climb the perfect angle steps
that some civil engineer designed
(with the darkbrown grimestain
that will never come off)
so that each step puts us closer,
and I can feel the design:
one false step
and I will bump her side,
stand up straight
and find her fingers in mine
- - -
Please take a moment to collect your belongings.
This train will soon be cleared.
And I’m jabbed again
but this time there is no whooshing
urban rush,
no manic kinetic
or artsy tunnel-black
I am awake
in this godawful sandtrap
9:30 AM
I am alone
with this girl
and her miserable long hair
and pretty pink skin.
We've gotten nowhere
as the lights lose their drive
and can’t make it to my eye.
We’re still sitting
and I can’t remember how walking feels.
In the dark she looks confused
and her face is awkward
and her body sore.
She shifts her uncomfortable weight
from one side to the other.
In the dark,
I wish this train more empty.
Categories:
battleship, life, passion, people,
Form:
Free verse
Sending the tending to an unfriended ending,
yet somehow suspending from rending a newly offending recommending.
Logotype monotype linotype,
overripe stereotype,
teletyped an unripe heliotype.
Guttersnipe snipe,
stipe snipe ripe,
a wipe type a tripe,
unleash a withering hype.
Dip snip,
nip lip,
slip skip,
rip the apple pip
over a battleship Chip.
Clip,
airstrip,
blip,
scrip,
gyp,
flip,
dip.
Unsip, blue clip,
A warship, weathering stick.
To miche an itch,
to stitch a witch.
Rich a quitch,
Hitch a flitch.
Gabrilowitsch,
the grand son of a *****!
Pitched a ditch to flitch a niche.
Made a rich hitch lich.
The Thia tie thy tried to untie an unshy,
Spied a sny sty,
He ascribed a bribe tribe,
to dib drib, lib and sib.
A death pale,
dwaled and engrailed,
enjailed and bewailed.
The cocktale turned into a,
ginger ale stale.
A hobnail.
A pale kale.
The whale waled
a veil of wail.
The stale air,
railed the quailing sale.
Dipped the snip,
to pip the tip,
and baled the avail,
to the flailed snail.
Attract extract reenact,
saddle backed and subtracted,
the tact the pact
an unmistakable fact.
Swag the unsage,
the wage of the tutelage.
A coffee break
a bit of a cornflake
cupcaked the cake of the devil's flake.
Draked the fake fruitcake,
and hake the jake on the mellow lake.
Mistake the overtake.
A pancake sheik,
cried spake of a toothache.
Ack Ack!
Back, Bootblack Jack.
Pack the Pontiac rack,
sack the Hackensack,
hijack the leatherback.
Offtrack the outback,
rack the sack,
smack the stack,
stickleback the tictack track,
to the umiak Union Jack.
Twack the whack yak sack,
A mystical one eyed zodiac.
Bready a speedy,
deedy the weedy,
Reedy to leedy.
Unheedy indeedy.
Leda, Vida, Theda.
Sketched an etch,
itched a hatch.
So speechless,
breathless,
toothless.
The socialist,
the communist,
the theorist
the terrorist.
Bedded the bedding
in a dreadful beheading.
Weeded the weed,
leading the lead,
tended the teed.
The ready read,
the reedy reeded.
The seedy seeded.
The end is Ending.
Categories:
battleship,
Form:
Verse
Two Words – Redux One
Thumb
Finger
Hand
Foot
Toe
Toes
Blunder
Thunder
Seam
Beam
Stupidity
Contagious
Intelligence
Desired
Planets
Stars
Venus
Mars
Milky
Way
Iambic
Rhyme
Real
Divine
Curve
Time
Nose
Ears
Sticks
Styx
Bald
Hairy
Baloney
Piffle
Top
Bottom
Trump
Mussolini
Charlatan
Fascist
Sun
Mercury
Cosmic
Certitude
Mad
Man
She
Monster
Eyes
Flies
Turd
Bird
Money
Desire
Fruit
Empire
Pain
Pane
Brain
Drain
Red
Blue
Tie
Shoe
Gun
Bullet
Fun
Bun
Wind
Rain
All
Same
Drugs
Thugs
Atwill
Actor
Lamarr
Actress
Snot
Plot
Rasputin
Putin
Monk
Dictator
Zombie
Walking
Run
Bum
Much
Talk
Franklin
Adams
Madison
Monroe
History
Record
Fake
News
Some
Say
Bale
Hay
Right
Way
Not
Today
Toe
Jam
Computer
Scam
Earthen
Dam
Heaven
Hell
Magic
Spell
Athena
Bubo
Perseus
Andromeda
Poseidon
Kraken
Action
Motion
Yes
No
Yup
Nope
Submarine
Scope
Bismarck
Battleship
Gloom
Doom
Titanic
Tomb
Job
Rob
Bank
Banc
Anne
Frank
Humpty
Dumpty
Big
Egg
Stand
Tall
Rick
Ugarte
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 22, 2018 (Short-Form Free Verse)
Categories:
battleship, assonance, history, imagery, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
The beginning has begun – light breaks through a broken past.
I walked around the turn and jumped through the looking glass.
I dizzied in the bend, and knew it wouldn’t last,
my battleship has sunk… the flag now at half-mast.
A garden I now grow, and tend it every day.
The Cheshire Cat - it grins – love’s lust in a passion play.
I seek the path that leads, believing I won’t stray…
No beginning and no end; A tie that binds, they say.
Categories:
battleship, confusion, courage, friendship, friendship
Form:
Rhyme
Definitely something about long flowing hair
That turns my old crank, no surprise
With a face that could even sink a battleship
Still her hair makes my temperature rise
Can imagine nuzzling my dirty big honker
In those long strands of silken flow
Takes me far away on some exotic desert island
Where hula dancers are putting on a show
Wake up each night with my arms outstretched
My fingers combing the air softly
Wishing upon wish it was not just a dream
It's an image that literally rocks me
Some people think it has sexual overtones
Yet still others call it a fetish
But just by writing these words down I find
For stirring my libido it's quite effective
Definitely something about long flowing hair...
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
battleship, fantasy, hair,
Form:
Quatrain
THE GREAT BATTLESHIP
Once sailed as the lumbering hulks of the high seas
Fierce winds accompanied most of its expedition
Woozy and exhausted crews grappled the oars and crosstrees
With smoothbore and muzzle-loading guns geared up for a mission
The tall vertical spar supporting aloft the white canvas
Stretched out to catch the invisible strength of the wind
The ship’s keel watching the seabed at its vast
Emerged gradually from the water to meet the enemy lines
Whizzing salvo of the battle began off the island
Ships clashed, and soldiers engaged in a fight
Dead bodies slammed and the injured crossed to near land
Hear leaves without figs crushed to the ground
Ship ahoy! Shouted by villagers as they waited eagerly
Slowly ship emerged with the image of heavy wreckage
Wounded and exhausted crews embraced their family
Another saga of brave men printed on book’s page
The plaintive music now played on air
Tattoo beats called soldiers back to barracks
From bow to stern, ships respite from war
A short-lived fashion from majestic into rugs
For chieftains, captains, and crews laid beneath the ocean
Their remains rested in their sunken ship as their grave
Great battleships are now history and ordain
Shipwrecks underneath the sea were untouched and remained a treasure
Let in children’s cry slowly clear the fogs of war
And hail farewell to brave men who once sailed with the great battleship of all times
Posted also in voicesnet.com Poetry Site on 28 September 2009
Note: Other poetrysite have posted this under another name which is a clear plagiarism.
You may check this site: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-great-battleship/
and you may search also your poem title there, maybe they have posted also your poem without your consent.
Categories:
battleship, adventure, history, men, peace,
Form:
Rhyme