Best Gunned Poems
The year 1890
December 29th
Wounded Knee, South Dakota
My tribe lost their lives
The USS 7th
On their orders so
To round up the Sioux
Railroad herd them and go
Us Lakota were next
To disarm their request
But my cousin Black Coyote
At best he was deaf
Not hearing the orders
To lay down our guns
A chain reaction
Ensued on my tribal ones
Chaos and mayhem
Distressed our grounds
This proud nation
Beaten down
Men, women and children
300 slain
Another reminder
For the white mans gain
To disrespect the fallen
Slows our souls to our gods
We were left in a blizzard
Hardened like logs
In three days we rose
Civilians did lift
And dumped us unceremoniously
In a hole in the drift
My corpse and my peoples
Stripped and robbed
As flakes of snow
Confirm our spirits have sobbed
As i am reborn again
In another country
It gives me the freedom
To look back and see
That December day in 1890
Gunning down innocent ones
Not so mighty
The Medal of Honor
In their distinguished past
The record still stands
On their chests they flash
But attitudes change
As two centuries pass
The Medal Of Honor
Has won back its class
No longer the weak
Gunned down by the strong
Its man against man
Sometimes they do wrong
So as i sit back in my adopted nation
Will i live again past this lives station
Writing the wrongs of modern man
This Lakota warrior who never ran
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php
No more
showdowns
gunned down
man down
let down
lowdowns
sundowns
put downs
mowed down
ground down
lock down
blown down
sounded down
Pinned down.
Breakdowns...
No more
shot down in flames.
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.
The decade
that saw
end of cold war
fall of Berlin Wall.
In Asia
Tianamen Square
student bloodbath,
democracy restored
in Philippines with 'People Power Revolution'..
first big shock of my life--
Indira assassinated.
In sports
'Hand of God' goal by Maradona,
Michael Jackson--his Moonwalk dance,
Stevie Wonder--"I just called to.........."
enjoyed"Rain Man","Driving Miss Daisy".
And in my life
first love,broken heart,
fragmented pieces
still stitching..........
#Indira Gandhi,the Prime Minister of India was gunned down in 1984.
© 2011 kashinath karmakar (7th May 2011)
=================================================
Placement: 7th; (May 2011)
Contest:Magic Of Decade's Mood
Sponsor:Nette Onclaud
What a clamour
What a noise
To bring social justice
To answer the cries
That's gone on for centuries
That they keep maintaining
With promises and lies
Black lives matter
So we shout
But who hears the cries
When the establishment do nought
After the cotton fields
Up comes the continuity
In the justice system
When we are gunned down by agents
Who prey on our community
The leaders are aware
But do they really care
When they fail to dismantle
A system , which is so unfair
Slavery maybe abolished
But injustices lingers on
In its many disguises
And the many layers
We face, all day long
Martin Luther made a stand
Bob Marley, sung redemption songs
Freedom fighters raise their rifles
And in the graveyard
Gather the mourning throngs
There is no hope for change
When you maintain a system
That heaps suffering on the wounded
And depravity prolongs
For in the utterings
There is a promise of change
But when it comes to implementation
Not A Stroke
No progress made.
From Poland hailed your Uncle Max, who in matters of manners was a bit lax,
While from France came Aunt Belle, whom I thought was really quite swell.
Next up from Russia was Cousin Boris, whom I always confused with Nephew
Morris;
And then from Germany came Aunt Gitel, whose fingers fairly flew o'er
her fiddle.
After that from Lita came Uncle Beryl, whose fistic prowess put enemies
in peril.
Of course, from Ukraine came Cousin Emma, whose soup was the crème de
la crema.
It's our duty to recall Uncle Saul, though no one knew where he came from
at all
And finally, from Prussia, poor Aunt Masha, who subsisted for years on
potatoes and kasha.
What's this? You say you don't know any of these relatives at all?
Neither their names nor those of their children can you recall?
Then furrow your brow and bestir your brain; just don't be appalled:
Uncle Max may have been from Krakow, but his skeleton was prematurely
interred by the Nazis at the death-camp of Dachau.
Cousin Emma was from a wealthy family in Vizhnitz, though her fiery
cremation was reserved for the ovens of Auschwitz.
And pretty Gitel, who grew up in the small village of Dulmen, was gunned
down in the caverns of Bergen-Belsen...
So much for our family tree.
Had grandpa not fled to America by sea,
One of those dead branches above
Would surely have been me.
HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL DAY -- 73RD ANNIVERSARY -- APRIL 12, 2018
NEVER FORGET!
Some folks feel like Jesse James got a raw deal,
just because he had an affinity and liked to rob and kill.
His ended up a tragic story I reluctantly have to relate;
He trusted one of his gang and suffered a gunfighter’s fate.
Jesse was shot in the back by one of his friends Robert Ford,
giving credence to the saying about living and dying by the sword.
Mr. Ford duly received a fatal shotgun blast up in Colorado State
And likewise he also suffered a gunfighter’s fate.
Billy The Kid was a killer who lived a life of crime,
he was shot by Pat Garrett who was his friend at one time
Then Pat himself was gunned down at a later date.
So eventually he too suffered a gunfighter’s fate.
Outlaws who lived by the gun, reaped just what they sowed.
It was their choice to live and die by the gunfighter’s code.
Most of them had no desire to make any effort to go straight
So sooner or later they all suffered a gunfighter’s fate.
Even to survive was a curse, because as the killers grew older.
They spent a lot of time nervously looking back over their shoulder.
Some would even move away to escape the life they learned to hate,
But they were usually recognized and suffered a gunfighter’s fate.
So when a person chose to ride down the lawless outlaw trail
They usually ended hanging from a rope or spending their life in jail.
A lot of them made bad choices and ended up being buzzard bait,
because it was in their destiny to suffer a gunfighter’s fate.
This poem is a re-post from last year for the situation is worsening daily.
ELEPHANT’S GHOST
I am represented as a trinket on a
Human's wrist.
I was bought from a vendor,
Sometime last September,
I remember the vendor, he was,
Approached by a man in the street,
This man had stepped out of the shadows,
The vendor to meet.
The man from the shadows
Met with two other men
Their march sounded like military feet.
Money was exchanged, someone
Pointed to a truck down a lonely street,
The poachers knew
This deserted, but well known beat,
In the truck were the tusks of us all,
These despicable people had,
Gunned us down, and one by one,
Including me we met our fall.
Our tusks were hacked out,
Some of us not quite dead no doubt!
But I haven’t lost hope,
It isn’t too late,
To stop our bloody, grizzly fate,
Because a trinket made from part of me,
Means that humans can visibly see,
And then ask, for goodness sake,
Can we not try and end this heartache,
This horrible butchery,
With which we can all agree,
That, trinkets made from the tusks of
An elephant like me, never ever be sold,
And become the past, a history,
That will then only be told,
As a fairy story about wicked men
Who killed elephants in scores of ten.
Elephant proudly is my name,
Please stop this greedy killing game,
I chose to have my ghostly say,
And look forward to the day,
When elephant trinkets no more be made,
And for them be paid
In a sleazy vendors store,
Behind drawn curtains and a greasy floor.
I now can rest,
And feel blessed,
I appeal to all who hear,
For I’ve whispered in your ear,
Please be my mouth piece,
Try and make this madness cease,
Let us in unison say,
Poachers go away!
"Beware Of the Ides of the men on black"
The judges and jurors of our fates, blink.
Every time we will, they will reform it
They even gave them new uniforms
But they preferred the black 'It suits them mos'
And more guns,lesser humanity.
The Leaders of tomorrow are forbidden from seeing the morrows.
Put on rags, glorify poverty;
Just maybe, you will live to see another day of this craze of population control.
While the men on black and their rifle embark on patrol.
Pim pim,
Vroom vroom,
Police vans, parked by road sides
And policemen standing akimbo on major roads
With flash torches, flashing bright lights
Into the faces of incoming drivers
And their passengers if any.
A remainder of
'You better hold change
Or we seize the whole money'
'The Police is Your friend' with stern faces
Hello, young man may we know you.
"Paddy mi, make we gather reach town"
4:20pm, Fresh fine boys gunned downtown.
One, two shots!
Another happy-trigger officer had shot his shots.
"Oga Olopa wetin my pikin do you?"
The oceans flowed endlessly, as their mothers cried.
"Tattoo, dreadlocks, piercing not our culture!"
The Police report read.
For dumbness echoes now, while wisdom has been coerced into a deep sleep.
The toils of tomorrow built with the youth's blood.
GHOPS (Pa Shakespeare) x O.C Adolf
Dreams came true
Between me and you
The circle of life
What a fight
reincarnated to take flight
Only to be gunned down
Regrets at night
Sadness in the day
Discouraged on the way
Followed with fright
To find oneself in a sorry plight
The sun always shines bright
Ready to get back up and fight
To correct my wrongs and make them right
For life is beautiful
Now get some sleep tonight
what has been manifested
Will leave me well rested
Left out a few details
That should have been invested
Fears became a reality
I have ruined my family
I swear dreams do come true
For I have manifested the life between me and you
From the grounds of the south during the sweltering summer
of Negros in America*, came white violence and murder. The
suppression and degradation of decades. Americans treated
as less then a dog because they were not of a certain color.
For a country founded on “All Men are Created Equal” it is not
The truth or reality for many. When a voice came from angels
Dancing above, of a man with purpose and of dignity, standing
Strong in the body of Martin Luther King Jr. He walked degraded
ghetto streets with others of his purpose. From the steps of Abraham
rang out his voice in glory. His Dream, Our Dream. His Courage
became our Courage. From Rosa Parks to black student protests
to sit ins, marches and songs. John F. Kennedy, little black girls
and Lynden Johnson. A peaceful fight for civil rights was taken
to the White House ~ they won. Then the angels wept when
Martin was gunned down in the middle of our dream. His
Dream is not lost. He sings angels’ home, a warrior’s
call to Rise again in peaceful dissent. The white robes
of little minds are on the rise against civility. Angels
danced when he was born but we cannot dance yet….
gentle minister
freedom, peace, equality
born to show a dream
written 8-21-2019
for PS Contest:
Write a new haibun on the theme:
"Angels danced the day you were born
and they wept when they welcomed you home"
"U.S Attacked: Hijacked Jets Destroy Twin Towers And Hit Pentagon In Day Of Terror," The New York Times
even if it works like clockwork, it can still break.
shattered worlds petrified passerby,
People as hungry as bears, for explanations.
What does this mean?
What is next?
Why us?
"Wall Street Crash!" The London Herald
the world plunged out of its tranquil decade
into a worldwide depression.
affluent people became the precariat
The working class fell deeper into the umbrae
Poverty was the new normal.
"Martin King Shot To Death: Gunned Down In Memphis," Daily News
An icon in civil rights, Baptist minister, incredible father
not accepting the tragedy was many forms of mourning
The mystery of "Will equality ever exist?" still stood
he still had a dream.
all hope isn't lost if carried on through ideology.
Meir Kahane, a visionary, warned us all
Yet far too few heeded his call
Labeled a ‘firebrand’ by all the elites
His message understood by his enemies in the street
He told the West, calmly, what it didn’t want to hear
that Jew-haters' terror would soon have it quaking with fear
And Kahane warned Israel, to have a viable Jewish state
its Arab populace could not be allowed to spew terror and hate
But Israeli liberals said Kahane was ‘racist,’ exiled him to New York city
where a Jew-hater gunned him down in ‘90, a shame and a pity
For now most Israelis see that Kahane was right
terror unchecked has turned the world’s day into night
A sad time for children in foreign parts
that have no Target stores to be lost and found in.
Sad for inflatable Santa's gunned down by B.B pellets.
For all the children, pets and reindeer that do not make
the last fuzzy bit of the six p.m. news.
I’m working on my happiness, not forcing anything,
being considerate
to people and their wrong opinions -
it’s what the baby Jesus would want.
In the stores, I avoid Christmas music by singing
badly and loudly.
A life cut short in an instant.
Gunned down without a reason.
One lost love of a family.
One lost friend of many.
Never hated always loved.
Cheered up all she knew.
Had a big impact on so many lives.
A life cut short in an instant.
Gunned down without a reason.
Never to live out her dream.
There is a large void in so many lives.
A school in total shock.
Will never be the same.
A life cut short in an instant.
Gunned down without a reason.
So many lives touched by her kindness.
A life filled with hope and love.
Loved by all who knew her.
She wanted to help others.
A life cut short in an instant.
Gunned down without a reason.
It is time to grieve the loss of someone special.
It is time to come to terms with what has happened.
A life cut short in an instant.
Gunned down without a reason.
It is time to say "good-bye for now."
Knowing we will see her again.
So, Azyia, good-bye for now.
I will see you soon.