Best Wesson Poems
Scene 1:
There once was a man
filled with joy
a wife, a home
and a cute infant boy
Everything was grand
with twins on the way.
A spontaneous dog
who liked to play.
One day in the spring
He'd receive a call.
It was about his family.
the phone would suddenly fall.
Scene 2:
The car came out of nowhere
smashing head on the passenger side
Killing the infant son immediately,
in the ambulance his wife would ride.
Para-medics rushed frantically
to relieve the blood draining from her head.
With the severity of the wounds
death was inevitable,
They said!!
At one thirty-four this spring afternoon,
Four citizens were pronounced dead.
Someones wife, someones children
That is what the obituary read.
Scene 3:
A month later in the basement
of his quaint little country home.
He sat for hours thinking.
Sulking,
alone.
The thoughts of re-uniting
with the family he once had.
Drunk now thinking suicide,
he knew it would be bad.
Palms sweaty, vision blurred.
Vexed, praying for what comes next.
Reaching for the instrument,
his mind perplexed.
Scene 4:
He lifts the Smith & Wesson revolver
from its resting place.
Thinking of nothing but his family
placing it in the middle of his face.
Pulls the trigger,
at that moment all went black!!
Scene 5:
He wakes up
SUDDENLY...
His puppy licking his eye.
He looks at his dog,
then begins to cry.
When pulling the trigger
of this canon of a gun.
Instead of death he passed out.
As for bullets, there were none..
Jared Pickett
10/17/09
Asavvy1
Categories:
wesson, loss, , cute,
Form:
Free verse
Hey!! wake up!!
you don't wanna miss this!!
The soft voice that woke him,
he didn't know.
Opening his eyes
and seeing two grim faces.
Along with one that was
angry and beautiful.
And the startling fact
the last thing he heard
was the hammer
being pulled back.
Click Click Click
None of them
were family or kin,
never mind the question
of how they got in.
Waking up to cold steel
touching his skin.
But wait!
...
This is not where the story begins.
A young no talent Rapper,
pimp wanna be,
just turning twenty-three.
Running the streets
trying to be somebody.
Not a member of a gang
speaking nothing but slang.
using every four-letter word
except B-E-L-T.
That he needs to hold up
the jeans hanging off his behind.
Thinking he's fine and in fashion
and always looking for some action.
Got the hook up
and now carrying
a black 38 Smith & Wesson.
The young blood is in need
of a good lesson.
Saw a beautiful young lady
and not wanting to miss a chance
for a little romance.
He showed the lady
the caliber of his conversation.
Of course, she was not impressed.
But ask for his phone number.
Saying playfully,
you'll be hearing from me.
And well you know the rest.
Hey!! Wake up!!
You don't wanna miss this!!
Click Click Click
Categories:
wesson, adventure, betrayal, confusion, humor,
Form:
Free verse
CLARISSA’S VALENTINE DIARY OF “PASSION”
February 2009
Pretty in red, her tears start to flow
All dressed up and nowhere to go
She got dumped after he had his way
Sweet revenge follows this Valentine’s Day
Into the river his body will go
One knife, an alibi, no-one will know
Now what better day for his bad blood to flow
to be continued…..
February 2010
Proudly relieved that she didn’t get caught
Alibi solid, her story they bought
Sweet Valentines’ Day will be all she wished for
She’s found a new love, couldn’t ask for much more
Incidentally she’s hoping and praying that he
On this day will make her a new bride-to-be
Nothing good lies ahead, if he doesn’t agree.
to be continued…..
February 2011
Perfect in white, this she didn’t foresee,
Alone in the church, where the devil is he?
Standing alone in her wedding gown
Somebody whispered the groom had fled town
Into the limo so no-one would know
Once again Valentine tears start to flow
Nobody dumps her, she won’t let this go.
to be continued….
February 2012
Payback is lurking, his receipt she found
A step behind him she’s Canada bound
She has revenge written all over her face
Smith and Wesson, in her case
It might convince him to take her advice
Or face consequences, without thinking twice
Nasty Clarissa, will he pay the price?
to be continued……
Categories:
wesson, angst, funny, girlfriend-boyfriend, day,
Form:
Acrostic
It's time.
The two times before
Were tests
To see if she could
Identify the moment
When she should leave.
It's time.
The words
Buzzed in her head
Over and over
As she tucked the last items
In the bag she had prepard.
A bag similar to the one
An expectant mother would have ready,
But she would never
Need that particular bag,
He made sure of that.
It's time.
It was 10am,
He had been gone
The better part of three hours.
The longest three hours of her life.
She waited patiently,
Just in case he came home
For some forgotten tool or document.
It's time.
She slipped out the back door
And scaled two neighbours' fences
Before entering the street.
With her hat pulled down low
She made her way to the bus station.
It was time to leave town.
It's time.
She bought a ticket to California,
Los Angeles to be specific.
She would become a lost angel
In the city of angels.
It's time.
As she waited for the bus,
She heard a car shrieking
To a stop outside.
She shrank into her seat,
But it was for nought,
As cruel hands
Pulled her from her seat.
It's time.
First came a slap,
Then another,
And by the time the ticket agent
Came out to pull him away from her
He was punching her.
It's time.
He shrugged off the agent
And ran to her,
But by that time
She had pulled out
Her grandpappy's Smith & Wesson,
And with shaking hands
She lodged a bullet
In his heart.
It's time.
The gun was a present
From her momma,
And from the day she got it
She practiced on old toys
Behind the abandoned toy factory.
She practice until it was time.
Today, the time came
And it tuly was time.
It's time
For her abusive husband to die.
Categories:
wesson, angst, death, dedication, family,
Form:
WESSON
GIVES A LESSON
WITH A .357
DAVID SLINGS A ROCK
COP HOLSTERS A GLOCK
LIZZY BORDEN PACKS AN AXE
MAC HE PACKS THE KNIFE
BILLY BATTLES WITH A CLUB
TOMMY’S GUN IS A SUB
KELLY’S GOT ONE TOO
BAZOOKA JOE IS GUM
PETER GUNN IS NOT
COLT .45 IS NOT MALT
NOR IS IT A HORSE
HORSESHOES AND
HAND GRENADES
CANONS HAVE BIG BALLS
DOC HOLIDAY HAD TB
ROCK HUDSON HAD HIV
NATILIE WOOD DON’T FLOAT
NATILIE HOLLAWAY DON'T FLOAT
THE TITANIC BOAT DON'T FLOAT
JAMES DEAN CRASHED HIS CAR
HANK WILLIAMS CRASHED HIS BAR
DIRTY HARRY HAD THE BIGGEST
THE DERRINGER IS SMALLEST
CAIN MURDERED HIS BROTHER
JULIETTE DRANK POISON FOR HER LOVER
JIM JONES KILLED WITH COOL-AID
SLASHING WRISTS WITH A BLADE
BOW AND ARROW KILLS THE SAME
AS BONNIE OR CLYDE BARROW
CHARLES MANSON IS ALIVE
MICHAEL JACKSON IS NOT
IRAQI RULER WITH A ROPE
JOHN BELUSHI TOO MUCH DOPE
SATURDAY NIGHT SPECIAL IS ORDINARY
FAST AND FURIOUS IS THE CRIME
PIRATE VICTIMS WALK THE PLANK
THINK! NEXT TIME I”LL BRING A TANK
HEAR THE WHISTLE OF MY MISSILE?
AFTER THAT WHAT DO YOU BET?
I’LL COME FLYING IN A FIGHTER JET
SMOKEY BEAR’S RIGHT TO “BEAR” ARMS
OR DID WE JUST ARM BEARS?
NEVER STIFLE MY RIFLE
THIS IS MY RIFLE THIS IS MY GUN
ONE FOR FIGHTING ONE FOR FUN
CADENCE…
BANG - BANG - BANG - BANG - BANG - BANG
RELOAD
MOLON LABE
COME AND TAKE THEM
THE ONLY WAY FREEDOM OF SPEECH WORKS
IS BECAUSE THE 1st AMENDMENT
IS BACKED BY THE 2nd AMENDMENT
Categories:
wesson, america, conflict, death, education,
Form:
Free verse
Im caught up in her spell and loving this enchantment
For her Id walk through hell and embrace my entrapment
Im exploring her lips and the curve of her hips
A heartbeat that skips with her I'm selfish
I pull passionate emotions from all her expressions
Breathing it shortens when she looks in my direction
I pursue her relentlesss I'll never be finished
Somethin like brakeless damn near cant take this
Now all the way breathless left behind cautious
Wanting her closeness her beauty is flawless
Now I think Im the one blushin
cause my cheeks are sure doin somethin,
If this a crush Im all the way crushed in
You usin them words like loves weapon
A gun aint got nothin on you not even smith an wesson
Ima call you gods greatest blessin
You can be my angel Im on your highway to heaven
Categories:
wesson, dedication, love, passion,
Form:
Free verse
Stop drop
gun shot pop
whoops to late
hollow point penatrate
your cranium N===='s.be blastin um
like the wild wild west
N===='s.ya don't wanta test
roll up on ya quick as S=== wit
Glocks cocked 1 in the chamber
14 more in the clip
Go ahead N==== start talkin S===
get your dumb A== pistil whipped
Say what N==== make me squeeze my trigga
Take your narrow A== and teach ya how ta dance
wit 2 in the head N==== never had a chance
Don't act like you got somethin that I won't take
Get in my way fool end up at your own D=== wake
I learned to solve my problems wit my fist
Traded that S=== in for a Smith and Wesson
now pay attention cause here come the lesson
A real menace to society
a product of hypocrisy
my mind is twisted
there's no remorse
I'll stomp the S=== out ya N====
leave ya face down in the gutta
M===== F===== that's par for the course
so when I roll up on ya.N====....
give up the cash
and don't start talking S===
cause your punk A== will get hit
in a quick minute N==== so come on wit it
West 55 Philly
N===='s be ILLY
make ya sleep wit a lily
' RIP' above your name like I told ya
from my hollow point that holed ya
I be the trip that'll trip ya
like the LSD someone slipped ya
I be like the grim reaper
I'll send ya 6 feet deeper
ta see the crypt keeper
rated R for violence
Fear, and violence as a result, but no truth behind the reasons, or thought for the solution
Categories:
wesson, social
Form:
Lyric
Sometimes when I'm alone at night
and the pains just to much to bear,
I pull out my old friends Smith & Wesson & Jack Daniels
And play roulette with my hopes and cares
I put a bullet in the chamber
And pour whiskey in my glass
I give the gun a spin and down the shot
And wait for a click or final blast
Alas a click is all I hear
And I'm still trapped in this tormented hell
I shrug off the short reprieve by the hand of fate
And fall headlong in depressions well
But the insanity lingers like an oozing sore
And Ilock myself away from a normal life
So I pray an end to this daily war
And the never-ending internal strife
People may judge me a lunatic
By the psycotic words upon this page.
But if they for one night carried this runaway mind.
Perhaps they would understand this poetic rage.
Categories:
wesson, anxiety, blue, depression,
Form:
Rhyme
Papa grabbed his pistol,
Folks began to scatter;
Grandpa kept snoozin',
Like nothing was the matter!
There was fire and brimstone,
As we looked on in fear;
It only took a moment,
And then all was clear
The house was in shambles,
Our kitchen a mess;
Mama cried like a baby,
Can you imagine her stress?!
Scrubbin' and cleanin',
'Til the hour of dawn;
We found Uncle Benny,
Drunk on our lawn!
Papa grabbed Benny,
While I held his feet;
With a heave and a ho,
He was tossed in the street!
With a moment of silence,
There was nothing to say,
Thanksgiving was over,
They ruined our day
Mama broke a smile,
Papa teased a grin;
They sped off to the market,
And started again
Turkey and dressing,
Candied yams and more;
Pumpkin pie with trimmings,
Oh, what a feast galore!
Quietly at the table,
We bowed our humbled heads;
Papa led the blessing,
And this is what he said,...
"Thank you for the food"
"Thanks to all so dear"
"If not for Smith and Wesson",
"Those fools would still be here!!"
AMEN!
Categories:
wesson, holiday, thanksgiving,
Form:
Rhyme
My past transgressions
could have led me to negative aggression
released by a smith and wesson
or some other deadly weapon
I instead chose other directions
to expand my minds compression
To escape certain depression
every table served with medleys of lessons
At a young age I was handed more answers than questions
altercations
transparent affection
So I chose my own brethren
multiplyin my stressin
And many a greasy experience
Did manifest
but self respect
kept me in check
I came correct
The Lord protects
I pray for one dusk till dawn
with no blood upon
This world were on
A night so long
Categories:
wesson, urban, me,
Form:
Free verse
"No wrap egg role"
2 cups Coleslaw (classic) : Dole is kosher
Garlic powder : 2 pinches
Basil leaves : 2 sprinkles (crushed)
1/2 cups onions : small to medium
Canola oil : 1/2 tbsp in small pan (Wesson)
Colby jack cheese : add as little or as much, to taste
Parmesan : add to taste
in small pan + heat Canola oil on medium heat
add onions, cook 3 to 5 min or till you like the way they look (keep watch)
add Coleslaw + Garlic powder + Basil leaves
try not to get coleslaw soggy
Good with chicken and turkey burgers.
Categories:
wesson, caregiving, family, food, friendship
Form:
The Case Of The Lady In Red
My name is Smith,
That’s Smith N. Wesson.
I’m a licensed P I,
And I carry a big ass gun.
This case started on a Tuesday,
When she walked into my life.
The dame dressed in red,
Probably some rich saps wife.
I asked her the usual questions
“OK sister; What’s the Caper?”
She tossed a bundle on my desk,
It was a first edition newspaper.
I turned it around,
And there circled in red.
Was a story on a missing scientist.
It read ‘presumed dead.’
I looked up to said dame,
As she began to cry.
“Oh please can you help me?”
Her chest heaving in a sigh.
My gut told me her water-works,
Was nothing more than a show.
I set that fact aside though,
As she tossed a wad of dough.
That’s a lot of presidents, I mused,
And hoped there were more.
That’s when my partner, Jack,
He came He came walking through the door.
“Hi ya Mac,” he began,
Until he saw the gal in red.
The ret of he greeting,
It just went unsaid.
“What do we have here?” he asked
His eyes traveling up, then down.
The look on his face I noted,
Looking more a circus clown.
I grinned and rolled my eyes,
Pointing over to the dame.
“I was just getting to that” I said.
“So sister, what’s the game?’
Red, she looked,
From me, then to Jack.
Jack was still grinning,
His eyes still on her rack.
With a huff,
She returned her attention my way.
“I want you to find him,” she said.
“Can you start right away?”
I leaned back in my chair,
And nodded my head.
“We’ll take your case toots.”
The case of the lady in red.
Categories:
wesson, betrayal, death, lost, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
...With that he kicked his horse in the flanks
and charged towards Thompson and the men,
not expecting it, two of them went down
before they realized he was no longer Friend.
Now it was just Thompson and Stomping Bird
who returned fire as he charged their way.
He felt two bullets hit, but he did not fall,
he bulled his tired horse into the fray!
Stomping Bird appeared suddenly in front of him,
anders fired at him without respite,
their horses collided and he was thrown clear,
then landed hard upon his right side.
Bleeding from wounds, his ribs broken,
he turned over and saw Black Thompson
seated on his horse, wounded in one arm,
but in the other held his Smith & Wesson.
“Damn fool I was to ever trust a mad man,”
the thug snarled as he gazed on down.
“You shoot up my men, and for that act
I’m leaving your body to rot on this ground!”
Anders just smiled at his former partner,
said,”Go ahead and use that big gun.
Better I die the man I once was,
then live as the monster I’ve become.”
Thompson took aim, Anders jolted his wrist,
sliding out a two-barrel Derringer,
gunshots rang out across the prairie,
an echoing report of their fire.
Thompson slumped low, pitched off his mount,
two slugs gone straight through his head,
Anders struggled hard to catch his breath,
his chest home to a new piece of lead.
His vision was fading, but he swore he saw,
standing a short way away in the grass,
his dear sweet Rosa, smiling so gently...
he could feel the pain started to pass.
He closed his eyes, felt her gentle touch,
and felt no fear that moment because
for all of his sins he’d meet his maker
having died as the man he once was.
Categories:
wesson, anger, character, faith, hurt,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
The world's on fire and the news is despair
Stench of the apocalypse fills the air
Racial tensions, border disputes and cultural crusade
Immigration, separation, seems 'tis a bed we remade
Demonstrate into conflagrate, identity theft makes the rounds
And social media allows opinions without grounds
Shooting up each other, our school's new lesson
Now we can conceal without license that Smith & Wesson
Pick your country, seems most are headlining the ill
Now more than ever we need a stronger will
With even weather being threatened I wonder if we can weather
This generational discontent that we've fostered forever
Categories:
wesson, angst, conflict, planet,
Form:
Rhyme
Shoot Em Down
Going off half cocked !!!
My spirit, you rocked !!!
Thought processes a mess ion.
Dangerous as a Smith & Wesson.
Tongue – explosive 45 caliber ammunition
tearing, ripping through to submission.
The flesh, the spirit of this old soul,
you cannot see, do not see, may not know
how much you have torn this spirit apart.
How it is experienced in this aged one’s heart.
Time’s passing has made it possible, not to be shocked
at the spirit, the soul, the heart you have socked
with all that has become, you should never start.
I am blind, not to bright, but now is time to part.
And so my dear, I wonder ?, how will it end ???
In days to come, will I still be considered a friend ?
Or will I be considered your foe ?
Is this what I will come to know ?
B. J. “A” 2
April 16th 2004
Categories:
wesson, friend,
Form:
Rhyme