Best Target Poems
I have a target,
Over my head and you
Want me to trust you
Little do I know
The target was always my heart
Benefit,
A Nature of trade,
Business,
Utilization of skills,
To produce goods,
For a maintenance,
A Chain of Supply,
The prosperity of demand,
Business has a main target,
A person managed for it.
Weapons,
A trade mark,
For a safety,
And for a crime,
If a soldier uses it,
Demand is permitted granted,
If it is useful for civil,
What is crime reduction?
Is it not useful?
For promotions.
If weapons are for safety,
That’s are for Army,
Weapons are useful,
If an enemy threats,
Someone’s National Security,
If corrupted officers,
Helps smugglers to smuggle weapons,
Is it not a challenge for peace?
Is it not in use for promotions?
High crime-rate is whose demand?
Do you want to live in peace?
Ask them for weapon’s ban,
Civil liberty has no meaning,
Until weapons are in civil hands.
Nobody can control crime rate,
Nobody can stop demand,
Nobody can challenge supply,
Nobody can see a benefit is threat,
A danger for peace,
A danger for civil liberty.
shooting aimless blame
careful how you love yourself ~
cupid’s boomerang
Seems as a country full of saints and carriers of purity
as all crimes are interestingly attributed to outsiders
tagging them the influential teachers of immorality
yet such crime lovers show the capability of posing a threat
through the embarrassment caused on locals due to their industrious nature
Understanding the half-hearted privileges such a partial acceptance offers,
settlers become more creative, hardworking and productive
with limbs running on entrepreneurship, trade and commerce
while citizens comfort themselves
in the exaggerated pride of their home soil
which results in a war without cause or reason
The government ought to be a job creator
but how ironic, internationals are paying dearly for it.
It is claimed that foreigners are the thrombus in the channel of employment.
Yet these hated people
are self employed with shops, businesses and service centers
which are destroyed as a form of remittance of some sin
Every nation has her share of international mixture
yet a lot do not debase them as foreigners or aliens
the one down south of the dark island of all countries should be the least,
considering the continent’s role in its history,
irrespective of what her excuse may be
Look inwards if strangers are preferred in the national work force,
to find some answers- you angry mob
Examine your home, if passers-by enjoy more of the milk it produces.
Why target and shoot at the tree
when the bird is left alone to dine and sing?
Policemen catch fun while a soul converts to black coal,
humans lynched like a left over meal from vultures,
businesses ransacked and turned into forceful philanthropy,
these are evidences of character built on a very low budget.
If those responsible do nothing about social development,
With or without these ‘aliens’, the economic problems will still prevail
On the course at Coomealla where the Murray River wends,
Golfers hit their balls and miss the kangaroos,
Now their aim is not to hit them where a fairway shot extends,
For a wayward shot can see us golfers lose.
We had walked our way around the course and had two holes to play;
Kenny James with me, and slowcoach Timmy Wright,
We were lucky ‘cause there’s not a ‘kangar’ in the way,
But the clubhouse balcony is in our sight.
It isn’t only kangaroos that tend to be a target causing strain
That makes the likes of Timmy’s golfing crook,
He find’s the red gums and the black box, time and time again
When playing shots not written in the book.
So for half our day out on the course we’re hunting Timmy’s ball
In amongst the drying grass and brittle bark,
But today he’s concentrating better and we wonder after all
If we can make the clubhouse before dark.
We’re starting to get fidgety with Timmy stalling on this hole,
Where the clubhouse balcony has come in sight,
For Timmy’s looking up and down, and measuring control,
Then checking if the wind direction’s right.
But Ken got really narky, and then he pointed at the tee,
Shouting “Tim, for God sake have a swat!”
Tim looked toward the balcony, “The wife is watching me,
So my swing has got to make the perfect shot”.
Ken looked up at the balcony, and scratched beneath his chin,
I could see his mathematic mind in gear,
At first he shook his head and then he added with a grin,
“Forget it mate, you won’t hit her from here!”
What can we expect from a government denying God's plan
that which speaks in parseltongue the language of snakes
this which is a skill that converses through black magic
Pretending to care it focuses on taboo subject matter
how blind has become the darkness surrounding these souls
They start shedding when the light illuminates their heart's desire
working tirelessly bending the will of many to comply and submit
Let's thread the needle and pinpoint the words
fear where the fruits of this deception grows
without roots rotten apples trying to spread an agenda removing choice
there is only one Law I obey these days and it sure as hell is not man made
I am the eponymous A. Floating-Voter!
I do know my mind, but I’ll follow the pack …
My vote’s up for sale now, to the highest bidder.
Yes! What was that offer, sir? You at the back?
One fellow offered me ‘less unemployment’;
Another one’s promised a crackdown on Crack.
A third says my kids should get more education!
Now who’s gonna offer me tuppence off tax?
One bloke is standing who’ll never be sitting!
So if he’s elected, he won’t see it through.
He said I could choose ‘Not to be European’.
I thought I did that back in ’72 …
‘A’ says I’ll have more disposable income;
‘B’ says he’ll build us more roads and such-like.
If I vote for ‘B’, I’ll have more roads to drive on;
If I don’t vote for ’A’, then I can’t run a bike!
All of them claim to be fighting corruption;
Opening closets; exposing the sin …
Though naturally, MPs are above suspicion!
Now, what was this ‘Members’ Expenses’ thing?
I’m already beginning to feel some confusion.
Which of the parties is really the best?
They all claim the others are nothing but liars …
But none of them passes the ‘truthfulness’ test …
I really do not have a clue who to vote for!
I’m starting to wonder if I should abstain …
But ‘Say what you want!’ was my Mum’s favourite motto,
‘And if you don’t get it, then you can complain!’
So, come voting day, I’ll be down at that station.
I’m going to vote, and I’m keeping close tabs …
So go for it, candidates! Try to attract me!
‘Cause, ‘tween now and then, chaps,
My vote’s up for grabs!
..........................................................................
This is how we tackle elections in Great Britain - not so slick, but lots of fun!
Entered in Dana'lynn Smith's "Politically Educated" contest by Frances King
Son of Eros, where are you?
I feel I've been overlooked
Arrows speeding all around
Never one for me
Written for the Cupid contest
TARGET'S BAR!!
"If only Target had a bar,
We'd all be happier by far,"
Say all the Ma's and Pa's
"It would be wundebar!"
If only Target had a bar....
"Where are your Pa's?"
Ask all the Ma's.
"Pa's holding up the bar!
Bar fridge is not too far!"
"Wundebar, Wundebar!"
Think all the Ma's...
"We can max out our credit cards!
We can send the bills to Pa's!
Wundebar, Wundebar...:
If only Target had a bar.....
Here’s my poem for your perusal,
Though I’ll not grand first refusal.
It’s your privilege to reject it,
But I’ll not let you correct it.
Words transmitted to the page
I have no way to judge or gauge
If others deem a worthwhile read;
Despite that fact, I must proceed.
My target audience, you see,
Consists of no one else but me.
I love when friends or strangers read it;
It feels great, but I don’t need it.
Some would claim such self-expression’s
Nothing more than pure obsession.
Though there’s truth within that statement,
Don’t expect a poem abatement!
Annie Oakely: The Poem by Shane Nielsen
Deep in the Ohio woods, to brown eyes aspy,
The wondrous echoes of nature give their humble reply,
to the spirit of sight, and the will to try.
Billows of smoke from fires who do not cease to prier,
ventured the aptly named Little Miss Sharpshooter,
the stakes couldn't be higher.
To feed the sick and hungry, to blow away the competition,
to set all new records and rewrite the given,
No one aimed higher,
no one was more driven.
How could it be difficult?
How could sight not believe?
Skeptics and naysayers? Hard to conceive.
Bolts of lightening cast forth from the soul of the West,
struck down the greatest, struck down the best.
You can relax, even before you go far,
Aim for something in reach-"light up" a cigar.
With enough gold in trophies to fill the banks of a river,
Even Queen Victoria remembers the show you would give her.
After winning every round, with power and esteem,
you're worth more than a thousand words to fit in every magazine.
It isn't that that's important-it's the simple things of course.
Sitting by the gentle waters-feeding a horse.
So aim for your dreams, listen to that fire,
obey your intuition, your heart is not a liar.
Everyone, including Sitting Bull knew-that your aim was impeccable, that your heart was true.
Yes, with a heart so golden, a shell so strong,
It's no wonder you were the biggest lil legend that ever came along.
You are unique,
No need to be a replica,
Yes it is true, my dear Miss America.
A hunting riffle
And a yell…
On the blue shade of silence
Scratches:
Flashes light in the horizon
The quietness…
Worms spin the fortune wheel;
Interfere with mermaids’ songs-
Pierced by the arrow
The sunset is blocked
Between the eyelashes.
(translated by Laura Bogdan )
Seething rage
blistering haze
target missed.
ocean mist teases
so glad to be the target
am inspired to stroll
He ran so fast
That he overtook his destination