Best Shoot Straight Poems
I will die for love
Fear is a lifetime of pain
Death is my joy
Call the gun men and pay
Those who can shoot straight
“Expresso Shot”
He drank tibetan milk tea
from his saucer
like a cloistered munk
his conversation
was hushed and tinctured
with fountains of try-too-hard satire
he spoke softly
and quite fast
like a panther doing laps
a surprise
well hidden
springing
from long Prairie Sky switchgrass
chasing after too curious merecats
and bouncy pert Botticelli bunnies
mid-life
hazardously glazed lush
in confused transition
he gushed around
his love for life
to the moon and back
and there sat I,
the great I am,
green eggs 'n ham
watching and listening
waiting for the loophole
to be held like a love leash
of course, out in the open,
I’d give him free reign
drop the ropes
and hand him
freedom and a little hope
I’m generous like that
sometimes…
and there sat I,
the great I am
in two minds
with my dark
expresso shot
two Beretta Picos
under the table
ready to raise
and shoot straight
through his floundering heart
the one big shot
he bit into the half glazed
oozing his sweet jam
all over the place
I kept the kill clean
it was mourning time
the blowback delivered
painless and nice
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
June 01/1916
So it’s off to war!
By they were glad
Singing and whistling a tune every lad
With a swing of their arms
and a smile on their lips
And a shine in their eyes
For the gals in white slips
So it’s march down to the station
To board for the front
With a hiss and a whistle
And pull and a shunt
Then just one last look
At the girls with a tear in their eyes
We will be home for Christmas
So no need to cry
The Germans can’t shoot straight
Their bullets are rubber
So hold your tears girl
There is no need to blubber
At the front ONE MONTH LATER July 01-1916
Battle of the Somme
So we will dig our trenches
And sleep in the mud
The weather’s quite cold
And the food’s not that good
Sarge blows a whistle
And over we go
One at a time or all in a row
The noise is quite deafening
The bullets whiz by
A strange sort of noise hearing men die
Some they go quickly with not even a whimper
Some take all night caught in the moons
glimmer
Trapped in the wire, trod in the mud
Guts lay beside them leaking life’s blood.
Screams and cry’s
They cut through the cold night air
For a man to end his life this way just don’t seem fair
Please Don’t leave me alone
OH MOTHER PLEASE HELP ME!
I want to go home!
My tummy’s hurting
Please don’t leave me alone
So I lay in my trench, hands over my ears
The rain on my face hiding my tears
While somebody’s father somebody’s son
Somebody’s sweetheart
Who’s life’s just begun
Pleads for his mother to stop his pain
And hold him in her arms
Just once again
But she will never hear
Her boys last request
She will never again see his boyish zest
never to hold him in her arms again
Or ruffle his hair or soothe his pain
‘Whistle Whistle‘
Well there’s no time to day dream
And no time to dither
‘Cause the Sergeant is calling
And so through the mud we must slither
Over the top keep your head down
Try not to trod on those laying down
Past little Jimmy stuck on the fence
This bloody war don’t make any sense
I feel a slight tingle running down my spine
My legs are numb they don’t feel like mine
It’s all going dark now
I think I’ll just lay down here
Feel really tired but mam will soon be here
To tuck me in and ruffle my hair
And tell me a story about ‘Rabbit Brer’
Lights fading fast now
Time to sleep
Good night sweet Jesus
My soul pray you keep
Salesman: “Can I help you? Yes sir. Yes Sir!
Well, you’ve come to the right place.
Our own lineup has won awards
We lift you up through time and space!”
Buyer: “Why, yes, I am. That’s a fact.
But I’ll be careful to decide.
When I do buy, I want the best
So don’t take me for a ride.”
Buyer: “No cigars or reflective globes,
I want style and sharp and sleek.
And it must swirl just out of range
They might come up to take a peek.
I need a ramp to shoot straight out
Or a pod that will reach the ground.
I would like a quiet downshift
So I can land without a sound
From zero to post light warp drive
It must hover and not just float
I can not deal with under steer,
I want sports car without the bloat.”
Salesman: “We integrate one straight from spec
And customize it to your needs
You should know our reputation
We are the one who really leads.”
Buyer: “It must have the finest force field
And nova lights across the tail.
Phasers and disintegrators
Must be standard or no sale.
Does it contain a COSMOS map?
So I can go anywhere I please
No incidents with the natives
I want to come and go with ease.
I want the newest type of GORT
He can shamble or he can stride
I want some muscle in the ship
When I suit up and take a ride.”
Salesman :“Of course, yes sir, of course you do.
Your choice of suits is here for you
Well, first there is the standard white: Buyer: “(No, that’s too passé.)
Shimmering like the Robinsons: (Ahem, much too gaudy.)
Subtle silver much like Klaatu: (No, that’s not really me.)
Or the basic Roswell glimmer:” (Okay, I’ll take it.)
(That’s the one for me!)”
Buyer: “I have a trip, I wish to make.
Away so far, a yellow star
There’s an orb, the third one out
So blue and green, it must be see!”
Salesman: “Very good! Congratulations!
Sir, you’ve made a splendid choice
Will you pay for that in Vorax?
(But we also accept quasars.)”
Don’t know about you, but I think it’s stupid
To give lethal weapons to a diapered Cupid
(and what happens when he’s gotta go?)
See his soft feathered wings?
(Those fat little things!)
They flutter fast as he flies to and fro
But as he tries to take aim
To start the Valentine game
He sees the earth rushing up from below
For he keeps sinking down
And hitting the ground
Overburdened by his arrows and bow
---
He comes to our planet just one day a year
To practice his skills as a shootist
The rest of the time he’s hidden away—
What’s he do in absentia? Be a flutist?
‘Cuz he sure can’t shoot straight, this fat little angel,
Child of eros and chaos and earth
I wonder if Venus had any idea
He’d be so fickle, so playful, perverse
Some of his arrows are gold-tipped,
The tips of the others are lead
And where the gold ones inspire amoré,
The lead ones breed hatred instead
---
Yes, he’s armed & he’s dangerous,
This chubby fly boy
And he’s out of control in the air
At sweet couples kissing,
He keeps shooting & missing --
Hither & yon, over here, over there
So I say, Watch out for that cherub!
Stay out of his way!
Young lovers, go, take cover now!
Give one another a bear hug
And try to live through this day –
Look, he just hit a tree – Holy Cow!
Like I said, it’s just stupid
To arm this babe, Cupid,
To entrust him with arrows and bow
For while he can fly, he just can’t shoot straight
And I don’t want his hands to be holding my fate
I tell ya, he’s just got to go
Before something happens
And his lead-headed weapons
Accidentally break the heart of my beau
You Rode Into My Town
Gunned all The Lonely Deputies Down
Blew-Up The Bank Of Trust, In Our Face …
Where, There Was Hope … Is Now Empty Space …
… Now, I Gotta Chase You ! …
Outlaw !
Armed and Dangerous
Outlaw !
Jesse James, Would Be Jealous
… of You – Outlaw !
You’re Outrageous …
… and You’re An Outlaw ! …
Stealing Hearts, Like They Was Gold
… Silver Bullets, Are The Lies, You Told
Just A Masked-Man, Running Away …
No Longing-Arms, Can Make You Stay
… This Is Where You Pay (Now) ! …
Outlaw !
# 1 On Our Wanted List …
Outlaw !
They Told Me You Never Miss ! …
Outlaw !
… In A Duel, or A Quick Kiss …
… You’re An Outlaw !
Rustlin’ Cows and Cheating at Cards
Done Knocked Down, Many A Weak and Off-Guard
I Will Chase You Long and Hard
To Show You, How It Feels To Be Scarred …
… My Personal Reward ! …
Outlaw !
$ 10,000.00 Reward
Outlaw !
A Dollar, For Each Broken Heart
Outlaw !
… Better Get A Head-Start …
Outlaw !
Chorus:
Oh, I didn’t do Anything / That’s What All Outlaws Sing!
Oh, I didn’t do Anything / Then, This is Just A Real Bad Dream!
Oh, I didn’t do Anything / Stop! … Then, Where’s Her Dadgum Ring? …
Outlaw …
You Avoid Honor, Like A Hangman’s Noose
Out There, Wild and Still Running Loose
Wanted Posters, Up On Every Wall
When They Look At It … Tears Just Fall …
… You’re A Real Quick-Draw ! …
Outlaw !
Look At That Brim …
Outlaw !
Cocked-Low, Like A Trigger-Rim …
Outlaw !
… Yeah, That’s Him ! …
… It’s The Outlaw ! …
This is Showdown For Nerves-On-Edge
No More Hide-Outs; Not Another Hedge
No More Ladies, Lying On A Ledge
No More Lies, Or A Broken Pledge …
… See This Badge !!! …
Outlaw !
I Shoot Straight From A Curve-Hip …
Outlaw !
You Won’t Get To Give Me The Slip …
Outlaw !
You’re Gonna Get Wild-Whipped …
Outlaw !
Chorus:
Girl, I Know You’re Hurtin’ / But He Was Only Flirtin’
Luv, Stop Your Crying / Break Free From His Lying
Hon, I’m Doing You A Favor / He Ain’t Never Gonna Put No Ring On Your Finger …
He’s An Outlaw !
(Part One of Two)
In the great scheme of life, many choices you make,
Where to work, who to date, your yard when to rake.
The game of hearts is not quite the same,
Who you love and end up with, is all based on aim.
Yes Cupids aim, is sometimes not good,
Dam arrow it lands, in many a strange hood.
Once per chance the target is hit,
They may be charming, attractive and full of wit.
Only the lucky lovers get this type of win,
The arrow is known to bring pain, shame and sin.
Never knowing what's in store for you,
Loving arms and a partner that’s totally true,
Or an unfaithful idiot, to make you real blue.
You may think you scored, they look smokin' hot,
Having sex day and night, you love them a lot.
This sounds pretty awesome, is there a down side?
Not unless you count secrets, and the lovers he hides.
The girl that finds sales, and will spend all your cash,
She goes out on black Friday, doing the fifty yard dash.
Coming home the next day, a smile on her face,
I saved money here, and there, and lets not forget that place!
What she fails to tell you, is your fresh out of money,
Say something about it, she'll resign as your honey.
The men are no better, there tempers get hot,
Slobs and the lazy, and the ones that smoke pot.
Choices-cont
One time in the game, Cupid seemed to shoot straight,
He gave me a lover, to see I couldn’t wait.
We had some good times, but the end is the same,
Bad excuses, feelings hurt, another to tame.
Please freakin' Cupid, have a talk with William Tell,
Take an archery lesson, or your bow I will sell.
You keep making me fall, for the wrong type of mate,
Just want a good friend, not someone to hate.
Visit poemsbypaulie.com
just the other day
my young son
out of the blue
as me
dad he says
dad are there cowboys
in heaven
well i thought
what do i do?
so i tippet back my hat
and said son i
know the answer to that
yes there are cowboys in heaven
they ride herd over the stars
they play there guitars
and sing to the angels
they water there white horses
with mains of silver
in a crystal clear river
there saddles are laced with gold
they ride were it is nether hot nor cold
they only open the gate
for those who ride true
and shoot straight
so you see son there are
cowboys in heaven
you better shoot straight
and ride true
or they will never
open the gate for you
I wish I could make wish that could make me make a wish to turn all trouble makers into trouble shooters who wish they could make a wish to make them stay out of trouble so I would't have to make a wish at all so I could shoot straight to the nearest pub and shoot some pool instead of having all this trouble making wishes to make wishes.
Percy would stand up and sidestep and tap dance while the bullets bounced around him....
Percy laughed at death
and the Grim Reapers sickle missed him..
http://www.scullywag.com/kokoda1942stoush/
PERCY WATT.
Percy he was as thin as wire there was none as game as he...
In Syria where hot lead did fly, bullets zipping round him like a Bee. ... (1941)
Percy walked across the open ground, as we watched him from the trench...
I'd call 'Jesus, Perc get down', as he'd dodge the bullets, French....
For he never was a moment still always shifting changing place....
He'd taunt the Vichy French to kill, they just couldn't hit this Ace....
He was a great morale booster, this lean boy we did admire....
Game as a young red bantam rooster drew the Foreign Legions fire.....(French Foreign Legion)
And then in New Guinea green, when sudden death was all around.......(1942)
Bullets bounced where Perc. was seen while the others hugged the ground.....
I'd yell 'Get down young Percy mate those Jap's will surely kill you!'
He`d laugh and say 'They can`t shoot straight, they're so bung eyed that it`s true! '.....
No they couldn`t hit young Percy Watt yet he lived where others died....
Came home alive it was his lot,...
Though the bung eyed Nip's they tried.....(my father worried about a 17
year old)
Don Johnson....Percy is in the Toowoomba cemetry :( old age got him.....
Percy was a young ex sunday school teacher about 17 year old in Syria. He was convinced he
couldn't be shot in war and never was hit by the many bullets fired at him .
In close quarter fighting he was deadly with the bayonet parry and butt slap on the Jap.
He worked in the Toowoomba foundry after the war.
The hunt for quails had begun.
Two old men sat on a bench on the main street.
A shot rang out of the stillness of the countryside.
Below one old man, weak-sighted but the sound of hearing,
raised his head towards the ridge.
"He missed! Surely the fool has missed!" he said.
Up the street, two youths approached, both carried
a double-barrelled repeater. Both had empty bags.
The two young men stopped in front of them.
"Oliver would have hit any bird even with half-blind eyes,"
the taller one said. "And you, Bert? Come with us tomorrow?"
Laughing, they continued their way.
"Of course, rest assured we are indeed men!
I lost count of the number of quails I caught!"
"We are men! You know what, we’ll go hunting too."
Two heads, one white, one bald, nodded in unison.
“We’ll meet early at six tomorrow.” They agreed.
The town hall clock rang out every hour.
Six o’clock struck. Nature slept on.
Below, in an alley, two old men dreamt. Damn fools!
They moaned in their sleep. Why can’t they shoot straight?
If her pain serves to please you
She is all out of words
If her joy won’t amuse you
Her trust will be reserved
She’s begun to realise
That she’s not all at fault
Deep beneath those hate-filled words
She sees your true revolt
Oh such verbal skill you have
Howls harsh reality
As deep beneath the silence
Screams your veracity
Buried ashes of someone
Who hasn’t even wilted
She’s still alive, so don’t give up
Connections are just jilted
Wade through the stupidity
of your churlish stubborn ways
That negative energy
To get you through the days
Rummage for responses
Slave labour you can keep
Contagious as those bitter words
Adrenaline pumps deep
Pull in those reigns that haunt you
Take off your amour now
Bite your nails down to the quick
This hurt you should allow
Be sorry, please recognise
All those wasted chances
Now they’re gone, and it’s too late
All-in wicked glances
Comments shoot straight to the bone
Leave scars the blades so sharp
Immune to those words she’s known
Leave pin pricks in her heart
To peel away in the heat
Leave her raw and exposed
Naked, pour out empty threats
Words are super imposed
Skin etches out the journey
Grows each autumn and spring
Overbearing bitterness
Twisted comments brewing
You will not admit but some days you miss her
Your partner in crime, your big sister
No! not about pits
they’re removed
the fruit sliced.
ugly in effigy —
the air turns
their innards
burnt orange.
their rainier skin
scarred and pale —
tasty or not.
i’d rather them red
and plump, but
skinny enough
to fit into
the pitter
and for the pits
to shoot straight
out
not get stuck
like Winnie the Pooh
half in and out —
a honey of an incident,
embarrassing.
i gobble up
nature’s morsels
good for sleep
metabolism and
movements
which i
have a right
to let go.
Let’s not forget
the plastic covering
these incidentals
arrived in
and were shaken loose
from
into a collapsible colander
and given a sprinkling
shower; they shine
their famous; their mine
7/11/2020
Can I get a gun boss?
Can I get a gun?
I can shoot straight boss
I'll kill anyone.
My heart beats so fast boss
I'm ready to go
Can I get a gun boss?
I want in this show.
I'll kill for you boss
I have no fear
Can I get a gun boss?
Life is so dear.
Your life is gone boss
You are now dead
Can I get a gun boss?
To blow off my head.
Shoot straight,
Don’t let your gaze stray,
Breath slow and measured,
Frame the mark in the sun’s rays.
Make a bead,
Feel the wind,
Clear your mind,
All but this rescind.
Take it slow,
Think ahead,
Know the moment
To release that deadly lead.
No time to ponder
None for regrets,
You’ve done your duty
In terminating threats.
You’re the archangel
Of right and might
The gavel of justice,
Our enemy’s blight.