Best Firepower Poems


Premium Member Inanevilpredatorialmendacity

What a slap in the face!
It’s an international disgrace!

(Descriptive distraction)
and (subversion in action)

It’s now commonly used in parlance by judiciary
while in literature this prevalent (lie) I see.

With a bland, enough face?
or is there the hint of a trace?

Could there be in its origin, a.. motive? or motion
created to infiltrate a nations notion?

A.. (sort of sufferance)
involved with its utterance!

So (abused & misused) is the category
I must zero in all my batteries,

Now I am clearing my decks,
here I go, what the heck!

For I have admiration for a Francophile
would converse with a Russophile

I so enjoy your work Faberge
and appreciate the charm of the Gallic sway

But for me there is no third way!
(now) without any doubt I am coming about

And stoking all my fires
for full ahead’s my desire.

On the literary beach 
I see a very (rotten peach)!

And it was ‘hidden’ in full view
Hmm.. let’s see what some firepower can do

For the doting parents who pray
keep our kids safe today.

Hardworking moms & dads who care,
find time that is to spare

From extra help with early reading
to painting nursery room ceilings

Some working 14-hour days
it makes me angry I say.

Aunts & uncles, grandparent, teachers
of calm nature and reason

With motives pure and in step
with life’s seasons

And the name of the paedophile should by rights be theirs,
its been hijacked, does anyone care?

It’s too good a description, just not the depiction
to be bandied about, LISTEN

AS I SHOUT WITH TRUE INDIGNATION
CHANGE THIS DECEPTION OF NATIONS

© Joe Maverick 25-04-2011

Premium Member Putin's Loss List

Errors on Putins bungled invasion are beginning to show
As this obscene war progresses, his loss list will grow
He thought rolling in his tanks, it would take but a day
But the west is supporting Ukraine and will make him pay.

The Ukrainians are proud people and will fight to the end
And have sworn allegiance to their country and have vowed to defend
From all walks of life they answered, the rallying call
And unlike the murdering Russian army they stand proud and tall. 

Finland and Sweden are now joining NATO after seeing Ukraine 
They like all of us have seen reports, of the devastation and pain
If he invades a NATO country he'll invoke article five
And with NATOs firepower he'll be lucky to survive

He's now backed into a corner and should admit defeat 
And start withdrawing his army and get them off the street
Thousands are dead because of him , their blood is on his hands
And all because the Ukrainian people didn't bow to his demands. 

There are no Nazis in Ukraine only the Russian army
And that is plain as day, as all the civilised world can see
Putin is soulless and dishonorable and suffers no guilt
But one day will pay for his crimes and for Ukraine to be rebuilt.


Written on 11th May 2022

Premium Member The Serpent

The serpent's evil doctrine he'd tried to inflict
Tore peaceful communities assunder; causing conflict
The ghost soldiers would come in the dead of night
Taking on the evil serpent with firepower and might.

They would infiltrate the serpent's lair and be in disguise
And unleash hit and run tactics with the element of surprise
This enraged the serpent who put a price on their head
And he would pray to his god of evil; wishing them all dead.

It was in the Middle East that the serpent came to light
Waged a killing spree thinking it was his god given right
All the ghost soldiers' had to do was follow the trail of the dead
Then corner the evil serpent and cut off its head.

Offsprings of the serpent are now starting to nourish
But our civilised world must ensure they don't flourish
All nations must come together and stop this pure evil
And stop innocent people from suffering unnecessary upheaval.

Our world would live in fear but for the ghost soldier's sacrifice
But to rid the world from evil someone pays a heavy price
Some of these ghost soldiers paid with their  lives
And would do it again to ensure; evil no longer thrives.


Written 24th February 2020.


Dedicated to the special forces of many nations who waged a behind the scenes war on ISIS in the Middle East. 
Their covert missions' helped bring about the end of the self proclaimed caliphate and freed many people who were slaves' to ISIS.
The caliphate is no more but the behind the scenes war continues to this day.


Premium Member World War III

What will it look like
when the skies are beaming red
When you looking for your siblings 
and find them burning dead

Will the wildlife 
cease to exist 
when the bombs and firepower
fail to desist 

How close are we
to an inevitable end
When our love for people
no longer makes them friends

If only 
we could learn to love
rather than dropping evil
from above

I simply ask
that you think about you and me
Before you start
World War III

Premium Member Angel With An M16

There is a tale I can relate to you
And I can guarantee that it’s true
It’s about a battle just north of Hue
On a hot and sultry summer’s day.

VCs were in control and we had laid back
But today was the day we chose to attack.
Some said we didn’t stand a ghost of a chance
Nevertheless we chose to advance.

The fighting became heavy and loses were fierce.
Charlie had defenses we just couldn’t pierce.
I looked and could see troops falling beside me
From flashes of enemy fire I could see.

Things became blurry and eerie around me
And I sensed firing coming from behind me.
I saw VC troops falling like flies –
I could hardly believe what I saw with my eyes.

The firing behind me kept finding its mark
As the battle continued almost till dark.
A sense of victory soon became ours
As Charlie continued to lose firepower.

As I waited for enemy fire to find me
I could sense the fire grow heavy behind me.
The enemy continued to fall before us
Things began looking good for us.

We continued advancing and soon left no doubt
The victory was ours, and it was a rout.
I was in some kind of a daze 
Everything was covered by some sort of haze.

The firing that saved us was a real mystery 
It was heavy and deadly and brought victory.
I turned back to see and all that was seen
Was an angel standing there with an M16.

Written by John Posey
5/12/15
© John Posey  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Russian Aggression

The big bully of the civilised world the Russian Federation
Launched a barrage of missiles today hitting a NATO nation
Two innocent people lost their lives in the country of Poland
It's time for the west and NATO, to man up and make a stand.

Intentional or not the west and NATO, they should not ignore
Or we going to accept it was accidental until they fire more
Russia will no doubt blame Ukraine, that's the story they'll tell
The west now needs to send Putin a message and unleash hell. 

Vladimir Putin the aggressor started, this war in Ukraine 
Its now time to stand to him and inflict on him great pain 
You cannot reason with a terrorist country and that is a fact
No more pussyfooting around ,NATO and the west needs to act. 

From day one that psychopath has been spoiling for a fight
He now needs to be shown the power of NATO's military might 
Putins ageing equipment from World war 2 is no match for the west 
Its now time to put our firepower, and highly trained armies to the test.


Written on 15th November 2022


War

War! War! You came between us,
Destroyed the only love we treasured,
Firepower of our love so sacred,
The dreams and visions we dreamt,
The colorful wedding, we dreamt,
War! War! who sent you to us?

I am left weeping as he’s far in the unknown world,
Thousand miles testing his brevity in enemy’s land
World of the games and thrones of hungry lions,
The wisdom slowly departing from my aching heart,
Hope not sustainable as news of combat tear me apart,
War! War! Who sent you to us?

The danger of the war he knows it well, 
His spirit to defend his motherland unquestionable,
Our love burns as my throat swell for my Love,
The night and morning are same to me lonely in bed,
Because the expected news is not on probability scale,
War! War! Who sent you to us?

Soldier, you are strong as rocks,
Be brave and true is your mission,
Afraid of nothing, not even death itself,
Spirit kept a life as I wait your return,
The hardest ever in my lifetime,
War! War! Who sent you to us?

But our love will triumph war that I know,
My gorgeous handsome soldier, 
The brim of tears will be washed again,
As I look into your tender eyes,
With you in my arms where you belong,
The joy of reunion ignited the blood in my veins,
That is and will always be my battle plan. 

(This poem dedicated to my Uncle’s wife who was waiting for her husband while in war zone Somalia during “Operation Linda Nchi” by the Kenyan soldiers)

So Far From Home

So Far From Home
Under a curving shimmering blue fish bowl sky the small Patrol Torpedo boat cruises gentle summer swells in the distant Pacific, under summer skies torn apart by brutal bitter total war. 
Small PT boats crewed by fifteen men ranging far and wide, hunting for fat Japanese merchant ships. 
Boom! Go the torpedoes when a nice juicy target is found and a quick getaway to fight another day. 
If the Jap’s capture the American boat and her crew alive it will be torture and a slow death for Nippon’s enemies. They don’t intend to get caught, would rather go down to the ocean bottom if their small deadly craft is hit by enemy gunfire. 
Built of spruce and ash for excellent strength and good sea keeping the PT boat has the firepower of a destroyer and the agility of a fighter. A wicked peril of the sea out looking for trouble, armed with two or four torpedoes, fifty cal machine guns and twenty and forty millimetre cannon. 
A real kick ass little ship, a boat, hunting the huge open ocean sinking Nip ships, giving our boys ashore some respite from enemy bullets. 
Don’t you know after this war, no one will remember the small PT boats that battled a superior enemy bravely in no holds barred combat? Only faded photos survive and old crewmen spending their retirement dreaming of the open Pacific where the sky was always blue. 
Forgetting bitter engagements when a sinking Tokyo Maru shed burning oil from her ruptured tanks onto her crew in the blazing deep water. Remembering the screams more than playing cards with their own shipmates on R and R, three hundred miles from the nearest port. 
Only one small PT boat survives, testament to the small powerful craft that fought bravely and bitterly in a war no one cares to remember except the few who were there. Old men dying now...

We Pray We Will Survive

The darkness was shattered 
With the glow of cigarettes 
As we all hunkered down 
Each other a silhouette 
Six hours from now 
We’d be floating to earth 
As the Allies war in Europe 
Would start its historic birth 
All of the gear now readied 
Everyone with their thoughts 
Rather we won or lost 
To be determined how we fought 
Sainte-Mere-Eglise 
Was our destined site 
Behind enemy lines 
And in the dark of night 
Hold the French town 
No surrender, no retreat 
With muscle and firepower 
We carried with our feet 
The drop zone ahead 
It’s now or never men 
How we fight for this town 
Determines what army wins 
All boots on the ground 
Rather dead or alive 
We came here to conquer 
We pray we’ll survive
© Will Karry  Create an image from this poem.

Myanmar 2021

Hearts torn and shattered,
Yells at tyrants, a dire plea,
Yet torture remains unbothered,
Greed inflicted agony.

Young and old precious souls,
Against murderers of democracy,
Arrogance, firepower, overrules,
Unfazed atrocity.

Those who raise their voices, beware,
For they may lie dead on the ground,
Heroes choose to dare,
Rallying justice to abound.

Who cares for Myanmar's plight?
Their struggle and their pains?
Should darkness engulf their light?
Shrugged, none of our concerns?

O wake up comfort's slumber,
Let's not be blind, their hearts bleed,
Nor let their hopes torn asunder, 
Or leave their courage fade.

Crusaders of democracy,
Myanmar against tyranny,
Their lives of sacrifice,
Shall not fail our eyes.

Premium Member The Twisted 2nd

The idea that our founding fathers intended anyone over 18 to possess enough firepower to destroy the entire continental army of 1776 is absurd, arrogate and dangerous.

#repealthe2ndamendment 


*Arrogate: to take or claim an illegal right.

Para Bellum

Arm deals and more arm deals, that's all I see.

Calibres change, the type of artillery

Changes, the game players grey and go and

Are replaced by darker capillary

With greater thirst for bleeding enemy

And with more dangerous artillery.

 

Deadly toys in the hands of eager youth,

Intended for warding off intruders:

Scaring them with heaps of artillery

So that they would harder prepare soldiers

If the should covet and desire to loot.

In their minds they have peace in their brooders.

 

But to brood over unused firepower

While only playing with blanks on dummies

Kindles unquiet thirst only blood can quench

Kills empathy for sonless war mummies,

And in blasts of gun smoke the youth's flower

Drowns its thirst in the thud of fall'n bodies.

 

(c) Nyonglema

Hunter Biden

From his mother’s womb
One February afternoon
and straight to the Situation Room
Hunter Biden, we presume.
His father, with his thoughtless clauses and pauses,
Captured the most prestigious of offices.
And angry was the Republican caucus.
The Donald, he got jaundiced.
And vowed revenge on those Commie leftists.

So he rang Roger Stone
On the secret Bat Phone
I need you Dirty Trickster 
For I alone am the true victor.
Be at Trump Tower, one hour.
Bring Nydia for Cuban firepower. 
Stone rubbed his cock so mammoth
Grabbed his chalk stripe jacket
And went to save the planet.

Then magically, Sean Hannity
Had the audacity 
To reveal our tragedy
(Reader, it’s tawdry)
The hero of our story
Had been groomed 
On a silver crack spoon.

Alas!
Hunter made history
Because it was no mystery
Whose crackpipe it was
atop the White House
Christmas tree.

And who has the balls
To roam the West Wing halls
And drop a bag of blow
On that bust of Ol’ Frank Delano?
It wasn't his brother Beau.

Such is your brilliance 
And your inheritance 
The executive residence 
Imagine!
The wonders you could do
From that trap house
on Pennsylvania Avenue
Maybe even replace Congress
with a petting zoo!

You get high
in polite society
No need for an apology
It's just pharmacology 

In Hunter, we trust 
the future off democracy
His cabinet? A veritably talent agency
Vice president Jay Z
Willie Nelson in charge
of drug policy;
Keith Richards
head of social security
(for all eternity)
Charlie Sheen secretary
of the Treasury
and Lindsey Lohan
your expert
on foreign policy.
Maybe, destroy
North Korea
in a bout of paranoia

But please keep
your stem in your pocket
don't let it fall on the carpet
During the State of the Union
Try not to piss on
the constitution.

Crackheads everywhere
take some pride
In our man on the inside
He’s from our tribe
sure he'll take a bribe
his brain is totally fried.

From one crackhead to another,
We love you Hunter!
© Lora Como  Create an image from this poem.

The Underpass

The Underpass
By Lola 

It was the right place at the wrong time
They had the right words but not the ryhme
They lay trojans in each others broken minds
There was evidence of passion without the crime

With scars ripping their broken minds apart
They had the idea to lean into a brand new start
The gust of wind became a hurricane creed
The tides became tsunamis of long-forgotten needsy

As their hands joined together they braved the stormy weather
As the clouds set above they found a way to make it better
They began to make declarations of the devoted ones
They loved the fire; they loved the pain; the firepower of a gun

A bullet for you and a bullet for me
The only way we could ever truly be
Just two lonely girls in love with the night
In love with the idea that what they had was worth the plight

Like a pire burning under a forgotten underpass
Their story was buried by the overpass of the past
This is a story where circumstances became the matches
Until the buried fire emerges like a phoenix from the ashes

If the storm passes and the past stays six feet under
Just know some nights I will lay in bed and wonder
The signals that were crossed, the mistakes that were made
Forever set a sun to serenade these renegade thoughts that will never fade
© Laura Dee  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Abandoned

ABANDONED

During a skirmish with enemy sources in a rice paddy in Vietnam, I was suddenly cut off from my platoon and receiving heavy firepower.  I felt so utterly alone and deserted by my fellow soldiers.  My instinct told me to seek the nearest cover available and return fire with hope that my platoon would circle back to rescue me from possible capture by the Viet Cong.   My ammunition was running low which added to my feeling of being discarded like a broken toy might be tossed aside by a child.  Thoughts ran rampant through my mind.  Had my platoon forsaken me?  Had they forgotten one of their own?  Had they utterly vacated the mission out of fear for their own life?  I felt as though they had simply dropped off the face of the earth.  Suddenly, I heard the drone of a helicopter in the distance.  As the sound became louder, I realized it was coming directly toward my position.  It  came in low over the rice paddy and opened fire.  The enemy began to scatter in every direction to escape the menacing overhead attack, but none were able to do so.  The chopper landed on a small knoll nearby and every man whom I thought had deserted me and left me to die poured out of that chopper like a bunch of ants out of an anthill.  We hugged, hollered, high-fived and hopped around like kids on Christmas morning.   We suffered no casualties in that particular skirmish and after the celebratory action subsided, we knelt in prayer to our Sovereign God and Creator for delivering us from the hands of the enemy.  Additionally, we prayed for the families of the Viet Cong who died that day in a war of sheer hell that should never have lasted for so long and leave numerous American families without fathers and husbands.  A senseless war that is still a blight on the most beloved country on earth.  It is with gratefulness and by the grace of God that I survived and I now act as a counselor for men who are still dealing with combat fatigue with no possibility of ever being whole once again.  WAR IS HELL!

16 June 2020 for the contest sponsored by Dear Heart

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