Best Battleships Poems
To chocolate I pay my respects
Some folks say its better than sex
whether milk dark or white
Ev’ry bar I must bite
or I'll get a lack of choccy complex
I NEED chocolate it’s an unwritten rule
I'm a woman not a blithering fool
Give me a constant supply
On days that end with a Y
when choc’s smeared round my mouth it looks cool
BY JAN ALLISON
Most women love something that’s sweet
And chocolate it cannot be beat
Deny them and they’ll pout
Choc is all they think about
Many men think it's all that they'll eat.
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
She lustingly said to bring some to her room
off went my trousers in a vertical zoom
I gazed in her eyes
but to my surprise
I gave her the chocolate she gave me a broom
BY TIM SMITH
Give me the chocolate and forget the sex
But please don't send it through Fed Ex
It'll melt in the summer
And that's a real bummer
Now that's a problem to vex and perplex
BY LIN LANE
Chocolates make me feel great
I forget the part about weight
If I was a tad thinner
Would think chocolate ideal for dinner
Will settle for sex after eight
BY SEREN ROBERTS
Chocolate is all that she wishes
She loves anything that Swiss is
I brought her a box
She quick changed the locks
Guess I’ll just go sleep with the Mrs.
BY DEAN WOOD
One woman with sweet loving lips
ate nothing but dark chocolate chips.
Her husband's retort?
"To enter her port
is like docking between two battleships!"
BY LIM'RICK FLATS
Image: Cloud Fantasy, by Susan Lawrence
On spring's green carpet I repose, revitalizing the soul
passing slow minutes pondering the sky
The lake whispers a morning meditation
as memories abound of cloud fantasies
a thousand ships of condensation dreams
Assorted sizes, shifting shapes
capriciously changing contours and colors
white, dun, pewter gray, dusky purple
magically mirroring my many moods
Fleecy, flitting, tiny, quiet, wispy cirrus all alone
like first day of school in a new town
Thunderheads colliding with cold fronts
hurling lightning in angry retribution
resolute battleships storming towards war
Stratus clouds, flat and unruffled
soothing, like grandma holding a cookie sheet
embracing landscapes like a comforting blanket
hugging hilltops in a friendly fog
Misting up at a feel good story
spilling tears on the gloomiest of days
A nimbostratus orchestra performing
a symphony of snow for mountain dwellers
a reverie of rain for desert denizens
Bouffant hairdo like a 60's prom queen
strutting across the sky adjusting her tiara
cotton ball cumulus, billowy like a verbose uncle
enhancing sunsets with colorful stories
.....
The soul of the sky is Sol-
our daylight and warmth, essence and marrow
The stars are sky's artists painting our stories-
archers, dippers, swans, seven sisters,
scorpions, lions, hunters, heroes
The heart of the sky is Luna-
a nightlight for sleepy children
a lamppost where lovers meet
a lantern for the darkest of trails
but clouds are the personality of the sky
written 24 May, 2022
//Inspired by the wonderful art of PS member Susan Lawrence, after viewing her landscape paintings at susanlawrence.net. Each landscape is framed by a different personality of cloud; I encourage all to pay a visit to her website to enjoy her portraits and abstracts as well as landscapes ~ John//
The mighty 3rd to the north did steam,
Chasing a ghost not to be seen
Guard the landing your task assigned,
Quiet the day is to be benign
At dawn the Imperial fleet does appear,
Surprise complete, ranging fire splashes near
Outnumbered and out gunned, duty is clear,
Close the range you must in spite of your fear
Laying smoke, a jagged course you take,
An account of yourselves you will make
Steel your heart and make sure your eye,
For each salvo keeps you alive
Toe-to-toe the battle, you exchange mighty blows,
Triumph impossible, yet into the fray you all go
In perfect rhythm, the mad dance goes on,
As smoke filled gunhouse loads powder and shot
Decks strewn with the dead and dying,
Teams repair to keep the ensign flying
Struck and struck again, yet to point blank you steam,
Hard to port, you cross the “T”
“All guns to fire at the turn, torpedoes away!”
The enemy scatters in disarray
Too late, mortal blows you take
To the deep, no more your enemy to rake
One final salute their captain does render,
For you fought to the death and did not surrender
On this all men do still agree,
These were the finest two hours of Taffy 3
*****************************************
On October 25th, 1944, 3 destroyers and 4 destroyer escorts of Task Force
Taffy 3 engaged a combined force of Imperial Japanese Navy battleships and
cruisers in a 2 hour running gun battle to protect the escort carriers and troop
transports taking part in the Leyte Gulf landings in the Philippines. Two of the
three destroyers and one of the escorts were sunk while sinking three
Japanese heavy cruisers and damaged three more. Due to the fierceness of
the attack, the Japanese fleet retired from the area thinking they had been
attacked by a much larger force. At the outset of the battle, the commanding
officers of these 7 ships, without orders, individually decided to attack and
headed at flank speed to the fight all knowing they would most likely not
survive the day. Almost 1600 did not. In a final act of respect, the commander
of one Japanese cruiser saluted the crew of an American ship that had just
sunk as his ship passed them floating in the water.
There was an elusive little guy often espied during World War Two,
And who he was and whence he came no one ever really knew!
He was a bald headed little feller with a very prominent nose,
And he always left the message "Kilroy Was Here" in very stilted prose!
You seldom saw his eyes and his hands were clinging to a wall.
Many G.I.s saw him in latrine stalls and in their greasy dining hall!
His origin and parting message are debated to this very day,
And no one has ever nabbed the graffiti artists who always slunk away!
He was portrayed in cruisers, battleships and even on submarines!
Kilroy's portrait was tattooed on the chests of a few diehard Marines!
'Tis said Hitler saw "Kilroy Was Here" and wondered what it meant,
Thinking it a secret code when found on American accouterment!
Kilroy became as famous as the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa.
(I even saw his mug when I climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa!)
Rosie the Riveter may have been guilty, if the truth were told,
Of tracing Kilroy's image on bombers, including the bomb bay hold!
Well, 'tis for sure we couldn't have won the war without the little guy!
Kilroy's antics lifted morale at home and overseas, that you can't deny!
But you haven't seen the last of him, for he is forever etched in history,
On the World War Two Monument in DC - how he got there is a mystery!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
For those a tad younger who may have never heard of Kilroy, go to your search
and type in "Kilroy Was Here" and click the Wikipedia notation and you will learn
more than you ever wanted to know about him!
As I looked out from the clifftops
The ocean sang to me.
A long sad lament I heard
A yearning for the sea.
It sang of the good ship Mayflower,
Setting sail from Plymouth sound.
Carrying forth the pilgrims,
All were New World bound.
It sang of tall ships sailing,
And adventurers of old.
Of buccaneers, of galleons
And chests of Spanish gold.
It sang of mighty battleships,
All sailing line astern.
It sang of Trafalgar,
Where the French and Spanish burned.
Oh to have witnessed such,
To visit times now past.
To discover unknown, distant lands.
To see the world, beneath the mast.
Lincoln never imagined
today’s white victim zeitgeist,
pouting persecuted supremacists,
their clenched jaws and fists.
Civil war rages in limbic memory.
Encoded somewhere,
the panic attacks and mirages.
Nobody is qualified because everybody is responsible.
So many whites have graduated from the struggle,
showcasing their diploma from the mill.
Lincoln never imagined
modern virtual vitriol,
merciless memes lashing out at specters,
infusing, inciting depravity among the sleep deprived.
These words are battleships aimed at the reviled.
The unshielded summon civility.
They beckon familiar principles.
But rabid cougars wait in hiding, eager to pounce.
All the feeble markets for platitudes have failed,
as subliminal cavities endure each generation.
Mental lynch mobs, rebel flags, supremacy’s utopia.
Lincoln never imagined
a 21st century cartoon president,
a white nationalist clicking social network epithets,
a whining overgrown tormenter
with a cult of Stalinist believers.
Where are the intelligible?
How is all this animated fury converted?
What is the lesson plan?
Who will bury the code?
How long this agonizing journey into normality?
Lincoln never imagined.
Published Tuck Magazine 04/ 2019
The Scots, by God,
They drove them out,
With a single Yorkie
At their heels a' yappin'
The Hobyahs tried to fly
Their arms they were a flappin'
Some managed to take to sea
And landed in Hamptonshire,
Yes-serieee!!!
But the British Navy would have none of this,
Big battleships they did send
The Hobyahs saw their doom,
Their plans they did amend
They sailed on to American,
Landed at the New Jersey coast,
The hobyahs could find no better host!
They ate their way from Newark
All the way up to Camden
Avoiding kennels and dog warning signs
There was always people on their roast
Now, much of America
Might applaud this you see,
For most of Jersey's citizens
Were as useless as a rubber tree
Then the Jerseyites came up
With a plan,
They bribed the Hobyahs with
16 barges overfilled with McDonalds
Quarter-Pounders with Cheese-
With big sign saying-
"This Way!!"
"Free PeopleBurgers"!!!!
And Infant Limb Fries!!!!"
Now this was not within
the Hobyah's realm of understanding,
But it sure sounded good....
So on the barges they climbed,
Till each and every one of these fiends
Took to sea, gorging themselves
On what they thought was fast human food
Once out in the bay, the barges were sunk
by remote control
On shore, a Mexican Beach Police Patrolman
was heard to ask Humphery Bogart,
for his beachcomber permit...
Humphrey barked back, "What?- Don't you see the history being made here?
If you're the beach police, let's see your badges!!"
The cop sneered, "Barges?....Barges?????.....We Don't Need No Sinking
Barges!!!!"
(See "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre")
With the kind permission of Marnie Memis (Oh, I Love that name!)
Just sitting there mighty
The ships and the people.
Flying American
Flags and the eagle.
Just sitting in harbor
That Sunday morn,
Oblivious to battle
And coming forlorn.
Drinking their coffee
And eating their breakfast
Things were going
Right along with their wishes
When suddenly a soldier
Did speak up and say,
"They're some blips on the radar
And they're coming our way!"
Then the officer said
"Now look here you see,
They're our boys coming home
In their B-17's.
So don't get all worked up,
No excitement today,
So get back to working
And resting and play!"
Now planes flying by
Were soon to be heard
But a shout soon went up
"Hey! Those are not our birds!"
Explosions to follow
Soon filled the sky
Now stand up and fight,
Or lay down and die
Guns fired back,
The battle was on,
But pretty soon after
The battleships were gone!
They were stuck in the harbor
With no way out,
And smoke's hanging over
The harbor in clouds
A valiant defensive
The defenders put forth
Desperately trying to
Even the score,
But their goals completed
The enemy turned back
Leaving behind them
Devastation and black
Many men died
On that fateful day
But a little luck came
The American's way!
Their carriers were still,
Far out at sea,
And part of the battle
They never did be!
Pearl Harbor will live on
In infamy
Stories of those who died
To keep their land free!
Their ultimate sacrifice
Helped the whole world to see
That America's the land
Of the brave and the free!
The Ring of Fire sits ready to erupt
Perhaps Mother Nature has had enough
Of pollutants invading reservoirs
And oil-drilled coastlines, sands coated by tar
Sea creatures poisoned by hazardous waste
Trash left on beaches by people in haste
Sea oats destroyed as construction proceeds
Turtle hatchlings wandering toward manmade beams
Whales wash up and expire on ocean shores
Battleships litter the deepest sea floors
With thinning ozone, sea temperatures rise
Igniting rage in Mother Nature’s eyes
Volcanoes, tsunamis are her weapons
Earth’s last days may be man’s time to reckon
*Entry for the "Mother Nature" contest
Tinkerbell , Tinkerbell
My grandmother would shout
Oh dear , Bloody hell
She's let the damn thing out.
I knew that it was coming
There was no more to be said
Whoosh , There she goes
Phtttttt Thar she blows
and she'd pooped upon my head.
No she wasn't a fairy
but she was vicious and scary
and that damn canary
Really hated me .
Next time I went round there
I wore my baseball cap
I'm a brave lad from Yorkshire
and I'm not taking any crap
but she landed on my shoulder
and gave my ear a peck
I managed to fight her off
and then I hit the deck
Whoosh , There she goes
Phttttt , Thar she blows
and she'd pooped upon my head
No she wasn't a fairy
but she was vicious and scary
and that damn canary
Really hated me .
She's sat upon the curtain rail
Surveying her domain just like a queen
but I know she is evil
and a disgusting poop machine
She's got more ammunition
than a battleships magazine
Whoosh . There she goes
Phtttttttt , Thar she blows
and she's pooped upon my head.
No she wasn't a fairy
but vicious and scary
and that damn canary
Really hated me.
As the sounds of war loudly roar
The thoughts of Freedom began to soar
For on that day of infamy
It changed the course of history
They didn’t ask to be attacked
But patriotism became a well know fact
With Peril Harbor still fresh on their minds
Young and old stood in long enlistment lines
So off to war these soldiers gladly went
To distant lands where they were sent
In Europe where the German’s raged
Eisenhower began to set the stage
Just before the breaking of the dawn
The seas were cold and breaking strong
Below the deck of the great Samuel Carroll battleships
A solemn prayer came from humble soldier’s lips
For On this cold and blistery June D-day
What unknown adventures, what grievous price to pay
They cleaned their rifles, down below
To France’s land where they should go
On this day, upon those treacherous shores
To battle them who start the wars
They came of every race the mingled swarm
In proud defiance to withstand a deadly storm
Americas' hero’s shown in pristine glory
And to write Freedom's worthy story
For on these shores and lapping waves
Came the spirits of America’s brave
Some gains were made at heavy human cost
The price is high, but not, if Freedom’s lost
These soldiers’ knew not if they would survive the day
Their prayerful thoughts of loved one’s far away
Up and down this cursed blood filled coast;
Two-thousand lifeless bodies gave the most
They paid the price for freedoms sake
With salt tears, let us not their sacrifice forsake.
A little tool yet a powerful force
forges unity and strength
Yet creates a great divide
Elusive as a sunbeam
It slithers and slips
A challenge to bridle a thorn in the hip
Such a great motivator
Promoting confidence here
But chaos there
A weapon of mass destruction
This wee little spark
Sends mountains into raging fires
A double- edged sword
One side dripping with honey
The other the venom of a viper
Man who with a little rudder controls huge battleships
Will struggle eternally to bridle
this wee tool …..The tongue.
Row row row your boat gently down the stream
Merrily merrily merrily merrily life Is but a dream... soaring beyond the skies the hue shadowed glows blue mist with green fields loving the stars above spring time love encased the sparkles and specks of destiny with no regrets knowing you did your best on repeat knowing yourself value complete.
Many drinks of water would not dare to collide riding rowing ships glory
kissing waves of possibilities the ears and nose knows the throats pain!
Every strand of hair is numbered We toast from the heart hope this is understood? Come in and sit with the crest of good better and best
upon the heart rest. Ships roll in turbulent seas
A vehement heat..
Walking red red mist tones golden bell rings for joy to greet the inner child
Up ahead rolling waves hurricane no one can tame in the land
Than Love enters into the game singing a new song and planned
The gates of hell can not prevail the keys have turned the lock
Waters of envious sickness shallow diseases not!
Many drinks of water cannot quench love no neither can the floods drown it
Upon all become stronger resting on the shoulders of kindness
Row row row your boat gently down the water tears fumes
Merrily merrily merrily merrily sing another tune.
Get a new theme Remember
Just at the time love takes a journey coast
To thrill to chill the heated flesh to salutes the taste a little more and one toast
quenching toast of rest. Caress the mind from loves journey behind the hurting test Stress These ships roll in turbulent seas
into the sea of death a vehement fire rolling waves
like a hurricane, jealousy no one can tame right into the
waters of cruel seas damp cold as the Grave
Terrible craftmanship Fellowships and nonsense
Battleships friendships kinships Relationships
Hardships sail upon Companionship true friendship will stand up as a team
For some of us, life is not what it seems
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.
World War I gave us the fly-boys
Who flew by the seat of their pants.
Many would never return from war
While others survived by chance.
Their planes were mostly canvas and wood
Gasoline, bullets, bombs and poison gas.
Every pilot carried his own pistol
Wearing leathers, scarf and goggles of glass.
Aviators had no Parachutes
To escape their burning plane.
Many were forced to jump to their death
Or self inflect a bullet to the brain.
Blimps where known as battleships of the sky
The roar of their engines gave reason for fear.
They flew so high they were hard to shoot down
Hiding above clouds till their targets drew near.
Tracer bullets for the first time were used
In the guns of airplanes to set blimps a fire.
The skies became man’s highway of death
With duty and honor their driving desire.
How many Fly-boys have we lost since then
Those days of the Great War and more?
Where do we get such brave souls of chance
Who rise from the rest in the battles of war?
By Tom Zart