Best Lock And Load Poems
I will stand up to my golieths
no more excuses will I make
I will face down my circumstances
No matter what it takes
We are living in troubled times
hatred is abound
Mass killings has become a fad
Racism is on the rebound
We are facing our golieths
Life's challenges have been thrown down
We need to stand up, no more excuses
Its time to hold our ground
It matters not the weapons nor the words
Coming at you the Lord is on your side
Don't worry about the time nor the place
Your faith will protect your hide
Don't fret about what you see before you
Don't walk just by sight
Its time to face your fears
By walking in God's light
For the battle is not just yours
God is always in the mix
Be anxious over nothing
As there's nothing He can't fix
When the enemy comes at God's children
We Christians comprehend
We are not fighting the battle alone
Nor against mere men
Principalities seen and unseen
The Holy Spirit is in battle mode
As we stand up to our golieths
Its time to lock and load
God will always sustain us
He will have our backs
And no weapon formed against us
Can prosper nor distract
Walking by faith and not by sight
Knowing I am not alone in this fight
I now take up my mantle of leadership
Wielding not a sword but just my belief
I now stand up to my golieths
No more excuses and no defeat
They tell me to express myself with words so foreign that I question myself.
Verbatim. Diction. Syllabic expression.
Please explain to me, a kid from the projects, what the hell you talkin about?
Cuz where I'm from you spit rhymes like bullets.
Lock and load.
Don't wait for a reaction.
Ready, Set, Go!
Crime is our muse, drugs are our fuel.
You can judge from a distance but remember.
We don't affiliate with none of yo crew, talkin bout red, white, and blue.
I consider myself patriotic to my youth.
But if I dare break down these walls myself....
You will see that I am an exquisite young lady hidden underneath "white trash."
I call it camouflage.
Don't you see?
I can explain to you the differences between an Italian and an English Sonnet.
Describe the meter of a Langston Hughes piece, or even write a couplet myself.
But those things won't teach you how to survive.
No.
Not around here.
So I'll act illiterate, and act like I don't give a ****.
Just to prove a point.
But in the back of my mind I'll be counting rhyme to make sure that words come out in time.
All the while I'll delude my real self till I am no longer in the presence of fools.
I'll hide behind the green bushes and tumbleweeds that are my second self.
And put my dictionary back on the shelf.
Because unfortunately to be real means to be ignorant, and to be intelligent means to be indignant.
Stillness in the night
Silhouettes of Zulu’s
Move along the ridgeline
Monkey’s howl
And men cry
The darkness has no friends
Evil specter of death
In the banana trees
Fruit bats on the wing
Sweating in this jungle
I have but one goal
Remain
Lock and load
Weapons
In the hands
Of teens
Machetes
Teeth
Cut limbs
From torso’s
Lying on the cracked
Jungle floor
Seeping loneliness
Into the heart
Of darkness
That bears no witness
To the soul
Thump, thump, thump,
I can hear the choppers
They are inbound
Med Evac
Another day in the bush
Another man down
I throw out a flare
It’s a hot LZ
Small arms fire
From a sniper
In a tree
Sitting in front of the TV
I watch the war
In full HD
I can see the fear
The talking heads
Say we are losing the war
The minds and souls
Are not on our side
We are the invaders
Sent to enforce democracy
Not necessarily to practice it
Thump, thump, thump,
The mortar rounds closing in
Wish I were anywhere but here
Skipper looks worried
As the radio squawks
Unfriendlies are inside the wire
Lock and load
It’s going to be a long night
I wish those talking heads
Were here to fight
Hope I’m still here
At first light
I put on my slippers
And head off to bed
Not knowing the truth
But feeling so dead
Leeches and communist
Are sucking me dry
I wish Ho Chi Minh
Had never been born
Stalin and Hitler
Just bad dreams
From the blue
I sleep in a fog
Next to my dog
Outside my window
There’s a sound
In the fog
Thump, thump, thump, thump …
Info lock and load
The key does require a code
Unique to each one
These atoms that do collide
In mind is where it resides
Drop down,
hit the ground,
you hear the sound,
your enemy bound.
Stand up,
lock and load,
be careful now,
everythings about to explode.
No sudden movements,
stay as quiet as can be,
don't give away your position,
remember, blind men cant see.
Now slowly creep forward,
toward the dangers ahead,
try not to show,
the fear and the dread.
Inside your freaking out,
as you enter enemy territory,
and this feeling cant compare,
to any classic war story.
Your hurt and sad,
you feel all alone,
but buck up young soldier,
for soon you'll be home.
It might not be,
the home were hoping for,
but heaven's nice,
and Gods waiting at the door.
So clear your head,
don't think anymore,
you'll need all your senses,
to win this war.
Behold the cold village watchtower fog
and holiday summer fields bundlin' hay,
the Officers Club back door buyin' grog
till all our money slowly pissed away!
Up the back roads hoonin' in the hot seat
and down Sparkin Hill runnin' on fumes,
or ride that city bus into Queen Street
after school up in the snooker rooms.
And lock and load shoot to kill in dead fall
the winged corpse of blackbird and pheasant,
when fools, tricksters and gamblers staked all
in the gamin’ rooms of Hitchcock Crescent.
Oh youthful crimes and misdemeanours
in Hillmans, Zephyrs and Cortinas.
And when the sins of youth had lost its thrill
I would walk to the house up on the hill.
In the bright burnin’ lights of the prison
runnin' like a fugitive in the night,
and as the last beer and hormones kicked in
so did crimes of passion in the moonlight.
In rush of young blood in curves and curls
between the sweaty bales of Percy’s barn,
where tales of turgid boys and bare-arsed girls
spread like the clap village rumour and yarn.
Oh youthful crimes and misdemeanours
in Hillmans, Zephyrs and Cortinas.
And when the sins of youth had lost its thrill
I would walk to the house up on the hill.
And in my rum soaked body and soul
hungover in my DTs and detox I lay.
Smokin' doobies of Acapulco Gold
sorely truly fu*ked on my bed of hay.
Through all my changes I was a dreamer
and lived a trepidation and a ruse,
but when she lay bare and I between her
I lived the dream in my puberty blues.
Oh youthful crimes and misdemeanours
in Hillmans, Zephyrs and Cortinas.
And when the lusts of youth had lost its thrill
I would walk to the house up on the hill.
Written: April 2000
I get my mass shootings mixed up
every day-another one-
makes you somewhat numb
the killers are all much the same
lifetime losers- twisted agenda
so quick to place the blame-
They can plan and finance their mayhem
then claim that they're insane
spared the sparky chair and ball and chain
a lifetime of freebies...at the peril of my pay-
There's a pack of mad dogs lying in wait
ready to unload their unbridled fangs
time to (perc) up folks-time to lock and load
at least you'll give society a chance
when the next time bomb explodes....
Bernie and the hee-haw gang want to give these A-holes
the right to vote--
Muzzle the people while making billions
unleash a maelstrom of communist virus
into the veins of the harlot media tyrants
into the hat of power magician- politicians
spread fear-mask -divide the people
inoculate a frightened population
with experimental vaccinations
endless mutations-booster brigades
rinse and repeat-new age slaves
frighten-mask-silence-divide-globalize
turn abnormal into normal.
Stalinize the children
brand parents as terrorists...
groom their children not to think
to blindly follow Godless sheep...
where abnormal is normal
godisdevildevilisgod
menarewomenwomenaremen
While in our mental lethargy...
a man tinkling the word "woke"
in the stall next to the little white girl
who's being taught that she is inherently racist.
This is just the beginning, folks:
wake up mamma bear
lock and load pappa bear...
fight for the soul of your children
there's a snake poking holes in the nest
of New Eden
stealing eggs at your expense
fight for the soul of your children
slap the snake with the rake of God..
separate the wheat from the chaff
sprinkle today with the blood of snakes
Amen!
Here you go
My lovely child
So eager and wild
Ready to see the world
And all the ugliness it has to offer?
I have a digital snack to proffer
Touch, tap, and swipe
Entertain the predators on skype
Come in, come in
I wish to sin
Pay your fee
Grab your stick
And we all win
Lock and load
While I goad
For your digital load
Was it good for you?
If I may be so bold
Throwing gravy
For the world to see
Billions of soldiers
Leaving my pee pee
Look at the mess you made of me
To bad it isn’t free
I’m empty now
So, leave me be
Nap time now, tee hee
Eric (and sometimes not)
"You will NEVER win the Spaceman Of The Year award!"/"I will SO!"/"You haven't the
love of humanity for it!!!"/"Get OFF my spaceship!"....Any form is acceptable.
For Matt's contest poem to movie based on the above dialogue!
Captain the craft is approaching with intent to board us, should we prepare for
boarding? Dr. Nono, do you have a positive ID? We believe it to be Martian Martin...
Captain replies, "Oh no my arch enemy, what does he want? this can't be good.
Prepare for boarding, doctor"
Martian Martin boards the spacecraft and approaches Captain Calamari.
Stating, "Good evening, captain, I have come to inform you of your defeat in this
years Spaceman of the year award, You will never win!!/"I will SO!"/"You haven't the
love of humanity for it!!"/"Get OFF my spaceship!"
Martian Martin exits the spaceship.
Captain Calamari turns to his crew and screams prepare for battle, Dr. Nono what is
our coordinates?
Dr. Nono states yes captain, battle stations ready, lock and load!! Coordinates: sector five, niner and grid four point seven. Fire at will!!
Pow!! Bang!! Boom!!
The Spaceman of the Year award is mine!! I shall not be defeated!! HAAHAA!
Symbolic of the hypocrites custodial conceit.
All pretense of perfection
Can provide but brief protection
From the madness at the margins of the mind.
And to the soldier's on the field
The liars soon will be revealed
As weapons turn to lock and load in kind.
The promise was perverted
By the pompous and the proud.
While men of honored greatness
With their genius speaking loud,
Are pushed aside by brokers
Who collect the lesser crowd.
They break and batter dreams
And turn the hopes of men to dust.
With all the wrecking balls beleaguered
They have raped the promised trust
And torn our sacred temples down
For minor profits in the ground.
The genius of these immigrants
In death how proud they stand,
Their contributions prominent
On this, their chosen land.
The people once paraded with a passion and a pride,
To serenade with songs they love the sacredness of soul;
The past should be protected by the present to provide
A living link to history that unifies the whole.
I hear their vital voices still
Reverberate as one
As out of sacred shelters spill
Their sacred songs once sung.
"Governor" Pritzker has a plan.
There will be no cash bail for the criminal clan.
The arsonist, murderer-kidnapper, and
garden-variety brutes are in celebration.
From beyond his gated walls, he boasted
that this will make citizens safer.
Pritzker has planted land mines in the community garden.
Innocents will be forced to do the weeding,
Lock and load, my friends. Pray if you must.
The purge begins on New Year's Day.
see {Safe-T act}
Weapons of mass destruction
a time for mass production
this is the way the world will end
in silence, this is the way the world
is ending in violence
chaos, religion, and super media
stars in a new world order
of electric cars and topless bars
fury for the masses
shatter the hourglass
as shadows are coming to pass
move foundations of rot
Lord of the despair hear the fury
the fury for the Masses
See them pave the fields
of gold, green, and dreams
in blacktop for a parking lot.
Poverty-stricken housing
built on the backs of…
Our Native Son.
First Nations run…
The first man of this land.
Time will watch seasons come
As the money will burn out
running out of time out of sanity
to watch this landscape
escape from light of morals
let reality fade, resting on one laurels
burning the flame, all there is shame
break the rock shattering of the tower
fury for the masses feeling the power.
Swing the hammer watch it strike fire,
fly into a bright brilliant sky, desire
money for the need, the need of the masses
This is the way the world will end
maybe in microbes or strip malls?
This is the way the world is ending
in the Power of Greed and entropy...
Lock and load the weapons of mass chaos
feel the bright sun explode
Reflecting in eyes gleaming watch
the bomb come as a cloud of death rises
watch the mother pray
Fury for the masses.
Money for the need
the need for speed
watch oblivion coming
watch the union of families breaking down
watch the government crumble in all its technicolor shades
the hope of the poor a better life dream, decaying
lock and load let the guns explode
Lockstep to the Government food chains
a world blinded by a kingdom of fools
hate rules, a child cries
Fury for the masses
this is the way YOUR world will end…
There’s a place that I’ve found
As far as I can see
This place lies within
The depths of my dreams
In a garden surrounded
By fire and trees
Through the smoke a silhouette I can barely see
There’s a man with an axe
Standing in the rain
Never fall asleep
You won’t wake up
Destroy the guillotine
Before he does
Honestly that never happened
Lying is your favorite passion.
Leave me; go where you belong
Dying is your latest fashion.
So lock and load mercenaries
I see the smoke from the hilltop
they march one by one
the battle starts adversaries
they bathe in our blood
the worst is yet to come
we’ve reached the covenate
to kill what we have started
kill the machines we’ve spawned to fight
in the darkest hour
So just don’t trust these liars at the door
(you have to find a better way)
Kill the ones that have these answers for
(the questions I will never say)
**Song parts from Escape the Fate: Situations, The Gulliotine, and My Apocalypse**
-Kallie Mason