Best Guns Poems
I love Guns
Guns make us safe
Guns are rights and freedoms
The more guns, the more freedoms we shall bear
Every man woman and child should be armed
So that we are all safe
All schools should be armed
Teachers, Principals, Janitors, arm them all
The finally we can relax
in total safety
knowing we are all armed
I say give arms to the amputees too
Gun control is socialist and fascist
We registers cars
Houses
Pets
Bikes
We have banned toys
We regulate all kinds of things
Yet we are free
Totally free
Because we all have our right
To bare arms
Ask Kim Campbell! she agrees!!!
Not only guns
They must be automatics
The more bullets you can empty out of a gun
the better
the more freedom you shall feel
Its called projectile dysfunction
And......... any man with a high IQ
Need's an assault rifle
Why of course to outsmart those ducks and turkeys
I firmly believe in a fair fight
Assault rifles to catch a duck
common sense to me
Quack quack
Guns have rights
Own a gun you have double rights
They are made to kill kill kill
Did I say they KILL?
Nothing more, nothing less
I need that right
Any child killed by a Gun
is only because we haven't enough guns
By the way
Children have no rights
Kill em all for all I care
as long as I have my rights
I am not concerned with facts
Evidence
Or the humanity of it
Is all about my Guns
Why
Cause I love Guns
More than humans
And thats my right
No matter how wrong it is
Home is where the radio is
Paradise is where I am
I miss his cigarettes...His mess
He said "I am smoking the last one"
I'm going to make him crazy
Rage, rage, rage
Rage, fury, rage
Nobody will be able to hurt me again
I will defeat pain with rage, my love
He cheated on me
He humiliated me
I am lost, baby, I am lost
But then with one kiss
I'd forgive him everything
He left me without a word
But he had forgotten his gun
I thought "Do i have to shoot myself? Or him?"
But then I found myself in front of a mirror
And then I started to brush my hair like this...
Stroke, stroke... My curls melted away
And then I thought "Why I have to reach exactly 100?"
Because in the hundredth stroke...
My hair was back to being straight
I looked again
He had no power over me
Baby, I have changed
I'm not that little girl anymore
I was a different person
A gun so nice to hold
Firm grip from one so bold
Shiny bullets fingers do enfold
To only the brave guns are sold
Not only to the brave are coffins sold
Silk lined some are, but still rot and mould
Not only bought for the unfortunate ill, we’re told
Not a perk for those growing infirm or old
Lives wiped out gone feelings left cold
Guns to the brave are always sold
Coffins the innocents do enfold
Firm to the grip, handles cold
A gun so nice to hold
A body not, I am told.
©~GG~ 16/01/2013
Contest Entry:
"The Big Guns"
A woman goes into war
with the matrimony of
Life and Death
a wound left empty
a gash pushing up
daisies where bleeding
seeds don’t bloom no more
So love puts the big guns
in her hands, bullets loaded
from the mind hell bent
on breaking the walls
caught in the sticky web
of that black lettered Perdition
Naked I came
from my mother’s womb
And naked I shall return
what’s given is taken away
the loss irretrievable
opens a new road home
Gangster all the way
On the run
with the Big Guns
Misery be gone
Love’s a racketeering assassin
cutting losses, risking what remains
on a final heist to be won
“Sometimes Losers
are Winners,” She grinned
“You are holding
the Big Gun”
Hands on the wheel
Silver Lady is driving Blue Sky
his head turned, smiling
towards the burning Sun
An alternative beginning
long way to the end.
First,
Some adventure,
First,
Some Fun.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
“Bang Bang Bang”/Dorothy
https://youtu.be/8Hi7Z8MK9t0
artiste: Gabe Leonard
"Keep Moving"
You Ain’t Touching My Guns
By Nug Revol
I’m sorry to hear about that massacre and all
Now to ban our assault weapons they’ll call
A few deaths of children is a small price to pay
To have guns that hundreds of bullets can spray
If I ever find that I have to defend my kin,
I must have a gun that’s sure to let me win
That guns don’t kill people simply isn’t true
As all will have to see when I am through
If the government dares to pass some ban
Let them come take it away if they can
No matter about the feds and their might
For I know my Second Amendment right
I’m not paranoid for it is very plain to see
Against folks like me, there’s a conspiracy
If to confiscate my assault weapon they try
From my cold, dead fingers they’ll have to pry
An armed deputy who is waiting outside
while a madman slays our joy and pride,
tell me again how it is good sense
to trust life and limb to the government?
Police are good people, without a doubt,
but they’re minutes away when seconds count,
and few enough know this hard truth:
Legally, they do not have to protect you.
And I think we’ll rarely ever find
a cop around when we’re struck by crime,
criminals are evil, but they are not fools,
they do not strike when cops are near you.
Be they a madman or a common thief,
what will happen when they come calling?
What good is help that comes too late,
when you’ve been butchered, murdered, raped?
So if they’re not crazy, or criminal scum,
I believe that an adult should own a gun.
This duty goes beyond mere self-defense,
though that’s its most common element,
as citizens and free souls it is our cause
to act as a check on those who make laws.
Not a pleasant thought, and a weaker mind
might proclaim,”But we’re beyond those times.”
But such thinking is a great fallacy,
power still attracts those who lust greedily
for your money, your family, you very thoughts,
they want control over the whole lot,
playing along with laws when they have to
while designing schemes, already ready to move
when a weakness in our will is found...
and come that day, when they knock us down
the Second Amendment takes up the fight,
the only means left to defend our rights.
Though we hate the thought of such a fate,
the threat of tyranny never will abate,
so if you’re not crazy, or criminal scum,
as an adult you should own a gun...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
...And those who scream,”No gun! No knife!
Not even if to defend my life!”
Care they so little for being human
that they won’t even stand up to defend
the greatest gift bestowed by this universe?
It strikes me as incredibly perverse.
The whole of you, every thought and care,
uour hopes, your heart, your soul, your flair,
the big and small things that define us
these folks would throw it allunder the bus.
Thinking that it’s some kind of moral high
to just stand there and let themselves die…
It’s nonsense, sophistry, it's vile rot!
You’ve a duty to protect what you’ve got,
To say that your life is worth everything,
That you’re sovereign and strong, no mere weakling,
That your time here is worth any price,
and all who’d take it had better think twice,
By your own hand they may meet their end,
you will not be taken from family and friends.
And those who would not make this hard choice,
Do they really value this life they’ve enjoyed
if they are not willing, when the hour’s late,
to save themselves from murderous hate?
So if they’re not crazy, or criminal scum,
I believe that an adult has to own a gun.
Don’t forget your children, your husband, your wife,
the things that a person values beyond life.
Have you not a duty to protect all of them?
How will you do that if you have no defense?
You can call the police and hope they arrive,
but it only takes moments for someone to die.
If we really love them, do we have to right
to pretend that true evil will never drop by?
If we are their parents, the protectors of youth,
should we not be ready for what we must do?
If they drag away your daughter with carnal intent
will you still feel ‘beyond’ the Second Amendment?
I don’t think you will, I think all the P.C.
will crumble as you fall down to your knees,
gnashing teeth and wailing at what you have lost,
knowing that failure bears such a great cost.
It’s all on our shoulders in this veil of tears,
we’re the first line against adult fears,
we carry the burden of our life and theirs,
we stare into darkness and try not scare.
So if they’re not crazy, or criminal scum,
I believe every adult should own a gun.
snowing winter night
so many corona ghosts
joined by gun ghosts
other ghosts as well
just too many ghosts
voices crying in the wind
We welcome the tired and we care for our sick.
North Dakota is home and we don’t carry sticks.
Gun powder and lead protect every home.
We all stand together no one is alone.
For my friends in the cities, no longer safe from harm.
Don’t forget you have friends, up north on the farm.
We’ll continue to love and God’s word we’ll still teach.
Don’t mistake that for weakness, we still practice what we preach.
Riots and fires, destruction with bricks.
You better go home and never mess with us hicks.
All murder is wrong swift justice we need.
But if you bring your violence here, we will make you bleed.
None of us are animals, black and white both bleed red.
We are responsible for our actions we still make our own bed.
These are my words and I pray that you hear.
Don’t bring your hate to my home, you’ll just find God and guns here.
Verse 1
Epitaph for a Shy Guy
He spoke in secrets ,shadows said so sweet,
A murmur,muted,on the main street.
His silence screamed a story,softly,slow,
A secret sparkle scarcely seen to glow.
The quietest voice was quote,we carefully
quote it still,
His peaceful presence,a perfect,peaceful
perfect pill.
Verse 2.
Epitaph for the Baadjievanger (1)
He snared,the swift,sly,silver-tongued
salesman,
Who wove his webs, winning with wit,when
the world began.
His dreams were a dream, a dazzling dreadful
disaster,
He caught all the cash,moving closer,then
faster.
The final fool fell for fate's false flatter,
His promises proven dust, do they even
matter?
Baadjievanger-A hanger-on,a scammer,opportunist, trickster
Verse 3.
Epitaph for the king of Bling
Here lies a life lined with lovers and
loudness,
A silver sky sparkling several sounds of
stunning soundness.
He wore gold gleaming,his soul's silver song,
But glitter's gone,grandeur's gone,a glimmer
gone gone.
The final flash has faded,a silent, sober
state so swift,
His most mighty magnificence,a memory's
miserable myth.
Verse 4.
Epitaph For the Great Tycoon
A power prince,he piled profits past
the planet's peak,
He bought bank buildings and a billion
bank notes for a break,.
His grip on gold,greatest of governments,
gloomed so grand,
But all his stocks and shares now sleep
beneath the same sand.
He made millions and a mountain of material
money,
Yet mortal making means memory's most
melancholy morning.
Verse 5
Epitaph for a gangster
Here lies a life lived fast and loud,
A silent shadow in the subway street crowd.
His guns are silent,glory's grave,
A kingpin's kingdom nothing could save.
The darkest deeds now dust and dream,
only the diamond death did secretly seam.
Verse 6
Epitaph for a Drunkard
He drank the day,he drained the darkest
dram,
A storm of spirits, slurring slam,
He found his freedom in the fluid flow,
His journey's joke, the bottle's bitter
blow.
The final bar is closed,the tab is settled low,
He's now not near the nectar nor the glass's
glow
The sounds of wolves howling... echoed loudly,
deep in the solitary woods of no mans land,
While the blazing campfire shared its hearth proudly,
heating the pot of coffee Kid Colt had close at hand,
Each day rehashed such thoughts of how it could be,
for one labeled an outlaw man,
Would it be jail....or staying free,
or getting dealt the dead mans hand?
Staying on the run is sure trouble,
when yer wanted dead or alive fer a crime,
If yer shot dead, all they need is a shovel,
alive, it's a hanging or prison time,
Card games can bring out the worse in a man,
if yer drinking gets ya mouthy and drunk,
and blaming a player of a cheating hand,
could be yer jawin' on too big a chunk!
Saw many a man shot between the eyes,
and some plumb through the chest!
Too slow a gun, ain't no surprise,
The fastest can be the deadliest!
Never plan to kill over a triple jack hand,
and don't fancy getting called a cheat in any card play!
Not enough guts could get ya shot in the back, and,
could have, can't back down, turn around, can't walk away.
"Epic Epigram"
His name came rightly so,
He carried two colts wherever he'd go,
"The Outlaw" came, from his death dealing draw!
during card games or a fist fighting brawl!
Boom! down one went! Boom! Boom! 3 bullets spent!
Boom! Boom! Boom! hell bound they're sent,
by Kid Colt, The Outlaw Gent.
I love guns and I have plenty.
When Daddy passed he had near twenty
He kept them locked in the safe I built,
Loaded and ready with no blood spilt.
For him a gun was a precision tool,
Not to be handled by just any fool.
He taught us all how to use a gun.
Took us to hunt and we sure had fun.
The day before my Daddy died,
He called us each to his bed side
And gave us guns from his collection.
He knew we needed no direction.
We keep them cleaned and polished each
Remembering his final speech.
"Care for this and when you die,
Give it to your son - please try -
Make sure he knows its proper use.
Take it now - and don't refuse."
First person shooter,
on a hate tour of duty,
swinging a bullet sling blade
Buying a death row ticket,
worth fifteen minutes of fame
First person murder shooter;
womb-to-the-cradle-to-the-grave robber,
using your Automatic Revolver
to solve your anti-social mental problems
Sharpen that sling blade
on a coroner grindstone wheel
Gather the scythe-shredded corpses
from the harvest killing field
Take the bullet-riddled body bags,
with warm blood dripping still ...
and kevlar
coffin
bury them on Tommy Gun hill
Guns and Roses —
Automatic Revolver 15 bullet salute
Let the gun pallbearers put ‘em in the ground,
and the saltpeter pew mourners
put the rose flowers on the graves
AR-15 bullet salute ...
Guns and Roses —
giving society another senseless violence eulogy
Guns and Roses —
weapons of war killing innocent children of peace
Guns and Roses —
ricochet death purchased with capitalist ease
No background check to vet tranquilize
the uncaged rage,
wearing a Second Amendment disguise
Empty thoughts and prayers,
full of politician hypocrisy
Thirty pieces of silver tongue lip-cluckers
offering a gun lobby: no gun control policy
A paid, no-money-back Judas apology
Snake oil teary talk rubbed on dry soul skin,
allergen empathy-free
Guns and Roses —
sacred shell religious philosophy
Guns and roses —
kinetic death violence theology
Gun manufacture worshipers
love deifying the work of their hands
They love to praise their golden trigger head
silver handle arms
brass chamber belly
lead barrel legs
paper green toes idol
Saying: Let your scimitar banana-shaped heart
always remain sharp
And may your lead scythe sling blade soul
never be dulled
Guns and roses —
waxy ears don’t hearst hear it ...
bulletproof hearts so iceberg smoking cold
Guns and roses —
plastic carnation petal spirits ...
metal detector salvation black market sold
Guns and Roses
They sing their songs
for those who drop bombs
we know very well for who
are the guns
Zionists who kill for pleasure and fun
They hold no rose for humanity
in name only
they sing for rape and death
and a babies last breath
their roses dead, their guns ablaze
The flower of love
the flower against oppression
the flower of life
amongst the Olive trees
the Hannoun blooms, even where evil lurks
GUNS AND ROSES
Another rain of bullets in the dead of winter.
A terrorist runs through like an Olympic sprinter.
Another candlelight vigil glows from the steeple.
And America loves her guns more than her people.
-Edlynn Nau
December 4, 2015