Best Water Gun Poems


Premium Member Childhood Fantasies

i was six and you were nine
you would pack sunlight into a jar
tell me it was mine.

at night it lit my room.

when the stars were out
you'd throw stones to wake me up.

butterfly nets in hand
we'd catch stars from the sky 
save them in our pockets.

i'd hand you my water gun
you’d load one at a time
pull the trigger
and yell
"quick wish on a shooting star."

now twenty and more old
i still have the jars
i still own every wish
i uttered silently
on those moonlit eves.

it was you
in my dreams
in my smile

always kind.

i only had one wish
you and i
clad in the innocence
of those times,

of dreams and laughs
i only wished
it would never end,
and your sunshine
safe in my memories 
our childhood sealed in those jars.


Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name:The Sweetest Touches of Verse

Sweet Childhood Memories

"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
                       Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)

I fondly recall the innocent days of my childhood,
playing hide and seek among the backyard boxwood,
and life as I knew it then was sweet and good.
              Country life was always fun.

I treasured Christmas tree lights glowing in the dark,
family gatherings each summer in Audubon Park.
In my younger years I was as carefree as a lark,
                enjoying days in the sun.

With my little sister beside me we made mud pies
and didn't see anything wrong with little white lies
or that dancing like ballerinas in the rain wasn't wise
            until our pirouettes were done.

I enjoyed having an allowance that I could spend
and sharing whispered secrets with my best friend,
wishing our playing time outside would never end.
                    How I loved to run!

In sweet memories I recall swimming in the lake,
helping Mom in the kitchen when she would bake,
and eating more icing than I had put on the cake.
             Having fights with a water gun.

How wonderful were my days spent as a child,
Dad called me a tomboy because I was a bit wild.
I was happy and content with life, always beguiled
               with everything I'd done.

My braided pigtails were yanked by a silly boy in school.
He giggled like an idiot thinking he was so cool,
til I fought back with a fist and called him a 'stupid fool.'
                   That battle I had won.

If memory serves me well, I remember not liking boys.
Always wanting their way and making too much noise.
I preferred playing house with many of my stuffed toys.
                 Boys were creatures to shun.

I was very competitive and wanted to win every race,
and didn't care much in those days about ladylike grace.
I recall being angry with myself for falling flat on my face
                   and not talking to anyone.

I've photos of me since I was born and it's plain to see
that my childhood was a very delightful time for me.
With a loving family like mine, I grew up quite esprit.
                  I love them all, a ton!




October 8, 2022 - A Constance La France Contest
Writing Challenge - Past Memories - "T" Forms Poetry

Halloween

The howls of the wolfs strike the beast beneath the bed it roars 
For it’s the full moon to night Scary of course
The little kid crawls out the bed to go to the toilet that night
When he thinks of the witches  and the beasts that bit
He steps back into bed when he gets a horrible frit
A ghost comes out the cupboard a skeleton from beneath the bed 
A monster comes through  the door way that he thinks will eat his head
A witch hackles from in his draws and then he fins out
It’s his sister his brother his mother and his father all messing about
From beneath the bed his brother with a skeleton  mask
Well in his cupboard his father with out a doubt
From in his draws his sister the smell little brat
From under the door way his mother of course he did say note
What he did was put his hand in his desk grab a water gun and squirted them all and his mum
He felt kind of stupid much more then he did before 
When he found out it was is nan and granddad how organized it all


Why the Colors of Holi

HAPPY  HOLI  &  HAPPY EASTER  TO ALL MY FRIENDS ON POETRY SOUP

Why the colors of Holi
.
Whenever spring comes
It brings the feelings of a joyous season 
When the birds 
Began to sing
And the new leafs and buds
Starts  their dancing and singing
On the rhythms 
Of the spring winds.
.
When the old leaves slowly leave 
Giving place 
to new ones to come 
And show their flying wings.
.
And watching 
These joyous dance 
In every nook and corner of Nature
Human hearts began to throb
More rapidly
For spreading the colors of Fagun*
On their beloveds in waiting 
With a Pickaari* full of colors
While celebrating the festival of Holi
On this land 
We know and call as India.
.
But elsewhere 
Where the lovers are 
Are not together 
And are facing a temporary separation 
They sing the love songs 
While remembering
Their sweet heart and beloveds 
Somewhere far from that place 
Where the beloved 
May be  waiting
To sprinkle 
The colors of love
Through the songs of love
She may be singing.
.
Ravindra K Kapoor
20th March 2016
.
Pichkaari* = Water gun 
Fagun* The Month of Feb. & March around Holi 
Holi*  = The festival of colors which is played in Feb. March every year.

Undivided Unity

We cousins looked forward to our summer holidays which were full of fun
Our barbaric guffaws were louder than the joys of any battle won
One was always on the run while another chased him with a water gun
Heroism was on the footloose, with many ghost chilling yarns being spun
Arguments, fights, boasting, was our forte as each refused to be outdone
Pantries ran out of stock as the food we gormandized was more than a tonne 
The swimming pool was but ours, and we refused invasion by anyone
We stood undivided, if a glass had broken when we had hit and run
We were punished together, sheepish grins at smuggled food for we were one!



18 syllables per line
June 14, 2016
For Laura Loo

You Feelin' Me?

I'm not critically aclaimed,
I ain't got no money to my name,
I'm having ot hang my head in shame,
there ain't nothin' good about me,
I'll just have to wait for you to see.

I'm going to let you go,
and if you come back, we'll take it slow.
Look into my eyes,
and dang boy, please don't lie,
ah, come on, don' be shy,
tell me how you feel,
and be real.

Lier.

I'm gonna beat you in the head with a giant hammer,
gonna cause a clamor,
I'm gonna drag your body to a hotel,
gonna crack you worse then the liberty bell.

You feelin' me?

I'm gonna stab you in the heart with a lit cigarette,
feel no regret,
I'm gonna scream at you,
and if you run I'll pursue.

You feelin' me?

Oh no, I don't think you see,
nobody lies to me,
I don't think you feelin' me,
I guess I wasn't meant to be on your family tree.

You feelin' me?

What do I have to do to knock some sense into you?
I'll give pain where pain is due,
I'll shoot you in the head with a water gun,
then I'll suffocate you with a hamburger bun,
I'll drown the eyewitness,
then practice physical fitness,
I'll chase you down when you run,
then I'll shoot you with a real gun,
I'll shoot you in the head,
bang, you're dead.

You feelin' me yet?


Pistol Ready 1

Hood fellow, pull her hair like I do the trigger
Plenty of cash, don't care if she's a gold-digger
She broke-up with her ex and got me, lost and found
Get in bed, take out my pistol, let off a round
Shoot her up, shoot her up, bang, bang
Blowing on my mic', the best song she ever sang

The chick's riding me, she started to pant

She dropped down low, started giving brain, transplant

She's eating that wood, like she's a termite

Got something to quench her thirst, but it's not sprite

I think I might go down-town, to get some dessert

She's like a water gun when she climax, squirt

Always takes showers, but she's oh so dirty

Started at three, it's going on four-thirty

Make sure I meet her needs, you're a minute man

She say I got flavor, but you're kinda' bland

I'm speeding, you get home at six, it's rush-hour

Gotta' clean up for you, hit it in the shower

She's so wet, it's like swimming in the ocean

Hop out the shower, dry off, wipe her down with lotion

Starts to get upset, said she wanted me to stay

Ain't in Florida, but she might go M.I.A

My Dearest Grandmaaaaa

Wake&run, 
Before my mother.
Plays with water gun,
Before the plants suffer.

Start worshiping God,
Without thinking anything odd.

Then sit in the sunshine,
With her friends for sometime.

Having breakfast having lunch,
And give us a milk punch.

Then sleep for few hours,
And worshiping God again with flowers.

And watches T.V till dinner,
With my mother and sister.

And sleep at nine,
By thinking the time is fine,
At the age of Eighty Nine.

Imagination

“Everything you can imagine is real” – Pablo Picasso


So many books, movies, and paintings
                      have come up from it: this great force

that has sparked our life with beauty
                     and chaos. Books have described the way

we can and have become angels and demons 
                        at the same time, using it to destroy other

worlds that are too busy searching for peace.
                  Movies have awed and haunted us with 

images of technologies that seem to have arrived
                         too early for us; destruction has been our 

 hobby, since stone-age: only grooming and table
                   etiquette that has changed from that remote

period. Paintings have depicted pleasant
                     and horrid images of Man’s true life and

living: cave paintings are a good point to start
                   on, before looking at Da Vinci’s work of art.

 Like a child who thinks he controls the world
                               with a water-gun, we almost make the 

same kind of mistake, by using the force that has
                       brought us to where we are, in creating a

bigger gap than we need amongst ourselves,
                     creating a valley where ideas of science and

art fall, waiting for a Savior to save them;
       humanity as the vassal of art and science,
                                    becomes the Fallen.

The Kid Who Talks Like a Guy

Down the interracial, middle-class block
there's a kid who talks like a mature guy...
using words only a grown-up man does,
" It's awesome to be cool! Let's have a fist fight!"
One evening, he drank from a can 
he thought was a soft-drink...no, it was beer!
ah, he started laughing and throwing rocks,
infurating the lady next door who let her dog loose....
Poor kid he was chased for blocks
by a vicious poodle and as small as the dog was 
he mauled the volley ball he carried.
" Get away from me, doggy! " he hollered
by kicking his his legs and calling for help.
News spread like fire and all the kids
came to see what was happening.
"Bring me my water gun, he told them...
I got to shoot him down before he bites me! " 
And glancing at the agitated poodle 
showing his sharp teeth, he pressed down
the trigger on his water gun saying, 
" I am a cop...freeze! You going to jail! "
There was no hesitation on the dog's part,
he ran as if chasing a cat who stole his bone.

A Mile In My Shoes

ALONE IN THIS HOUSE QUIET AS A MOUSE WONDERING WHEN IT'LL BE MY TURN
 
NOTHINGS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU ARE POOR

THE PRICE I PAID THE WOMEN YOU LAID ONLY IF SHE HAD STAYED

ID SLAY A DRAGON WITH JUST ONE STONE WENT FROM BIRTH TO FULLY GROWN

HE OWNS HIS WIFE A BORROWED LIFE MOTIVE OR EXCUSE ITS RATHER TRIFE

WIPE THOSE TEARS NO ONE CARES THE WHOLE WORLDS SCREAMING THIS ISNT FAIR

FACT OR FICTION WHITE BOYS LYNCHING EVERYONE WISHING UPON A STAR

THINKING THEIR DREAMS ARE WAY TOO FAR

THE CHOICE IS HARD ITS A WILD CARD

BURNED LEFT SCARED RUINED AND CHARRED 

THEY HIJACKED FOUR PLANES AND KILLED FOR FAME

HARDLEY INSANE JUST A COURT ROOM GAME

FORGOT MY OWN NAME EASY TO TAME

IGNITE THE FLAME AND DELIGATE THE BLAME

MY PICTURES HUNG WITH A TACK NOT WORTHY OF A PLAQUE

BUILT AND STACKED BAGS ALWAYS PACKED

STREETS ARE MY HOME ALONE I ROME

PAY THE TOLL RACE THE COPS IT NEVER STOPS

LOOKING FOR LOVE IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES

CONFUSING FACES HIGH SPEED CHASES

LEFT OVER FOOD WHATS UP DUDE

CONSIDERED RUDE VORN WITH AN ATTITUDE

PICKING UP STRAGGLERS IN A BAR FRONTING IN A RENTAL CAR

STANDING MY GROUN PAUSE REWOUND 

USED TO BE FUN WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND DUMB

YOU THINK YOU WON IT'LL NEVER BE DONE

COME ON SON YOU HIDE BEHIND A WATER GUN

THIS IS NOTHING MORE THAN NONE

          WANTA BUN BUN

You'Re So Tough

We get it, You're so tough
We know you're not the type to bluff
You talk loud in a crew, but when you're alone you sing low
You've never held a water gun, but you act like you let the ting go 

I'm tired of these fake tough guys
You see yourself as 50 Cent, but something doesn't look right
Don't know how to be yourself, you don't have enough pride
You've been to the city once, and didn't go anywhere near the rough side

I've never been a gangsta so why would I pretend?
I'm just a man who loves Hip-Hop
Tired of these Fake thugs, where does it end?
You put on an act and then wonder why you get shot 

You're the type to fall over and scream "Mom tell me you love me"
Stop thinking you're Tupac, when you're as soft as a Teletubby
You act tough but you're as scary as a little kid
You're not a gangsta because one time you got caught stealing a few pick & mix 

You're not Biggie or Nas
You're not even as hard as Nicki Minaj
You're as soft as a pillow and you'll never be hard
So please stop with this facade  

We get it, You're so tough
We know you're not the type to bluff
You talk loud in a crew, but when you're alone you sing low
You've never held a water gun, but you act like you let the ting go
© Alex Duffy  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Ww3 Sneak Preview

POTUS Joe Biden
  met Vladimir Kremlin
  said, 'Show me your wares if you dare'

  Whereupon Vladimir Kremlin
  unleashed a gremlin
  grinning atop nuclear hardware

  Not to be outdone
  Joe had a plan
  whipped out a fierce water gun

  Said, 'Come here, Vlady Kremlin
  along with your gremlin
  Take this! (Spritzing them) ~ The War 'gainst Pollution WE'VE won'

Premium Member Going With Guns

GOING  with  GUNS 

                                                                
                                     Being an amateur photographer,
           Off and on I use Flash Gun.
           In photography, I am veteran
                                     and taking nice snap shots so far!

           My little grandson
           owns a small Toy Gun.                           
            He plays with it under Sun,
                                   continuously chewing cocoa wafers.

          To water pot plants using Water Gun
          my wife enjoys with great fun.
                                      This technique of watering, she prefers.

         That man has hobby to hunt
          wishes to give a stunt.
          Flock of birds he aims
          Tranquilizer Gun he claims
                                      He happens to be my chauffeur.                        
                                          
           I knew a terrorist, ready to fight,
           always arrogant, roaming at night.
           He used to be out as clock struck eleven
                       carrying A-K Forty -Seven.
                Later he had to abandon
                        the dangerous Gun
               and started to spread slogan
                   for Peace, his only concern,
                                               turning a polite Philosopher.
 

    04/30/21
                                                     First Place

  'All Yours (May 21)   Contest by  Brian Strand

Premium Member Summer Water Weapons

Summer Water Weapons

Forty caliber water gun
Holding off the summer heat
To lay in wait behind the hedge
Then beat a hasty wet retreat.

Super soaker weapon of choice
Beneath the scorching summer sun
Secret cache given away when
Drippy footprints circle back in fun.

Squirt guns douse the O.K. Coral
Gunslingers in flip flops
Stand off at the hot street corner
A sneaky planned ambush to stop.

Oh that all disputes over rights
Could be settled by water fights.

5-6-21
Contest: Guns
Sponsor:  Anthony Biaanco

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