they swagger in badges
hallways of fluorescent lies
drag me by the collar
into their personal theater of power
guns gleam like broken promises
questions barked through gritted teeth
hands cuffed before words finish
justice danced on cold linoleum floors
they say order is sacred
while stomping the petals of freedom
paper walls of our rights
tear under boot heels
every knock at midnight
echoes the guillotine’s whisper
we’re born equal on paper
but in their hands, paper bleeds dry
and still—
we hope for mercy
in the belly of this machine
Oh, he had a combat rifle,
An Uzzi sub machine gun
A revolver and a pistol
And a TASER just for fun,
Because to bear arms
Was his God given right
One of those for which
He was prepared to fight.
Nobody ever knew
Why he flipped his lid.
Nobody ever knew
Why he did what he did.
Just wounded lying among
Bodies of the six dead,
Rampaging on until a SWAT
Marksman shot him in the head.
It’s not guns that kill people
The NRA statement said
Its those who pull the trigger,
But folk still end up dead.
I really don’t think that’s
Much of a consolation
To bereaved and grievimg
Coping with the situation.
A loved one lost with
No apparent reason why
Just in the wrong place so
They just happened to die.
One of those things
That sets off alarms
As to why they need to right
To continue to bear arms.
There are no indigenous natives
Waiting to ambush waggon trains
Very few live lives of danger
Out on the old Wild West plains.
No, perhaps they need weapons
To protect from the likely harms
Caused by all those others who
Exercise their right to bear arms.
Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.
Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.
An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.
The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.
Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
Mister Trump they all want to impeach
For constitutional overreach
Can't say that I blame them
I'd love them to shame him
Perhaps his orange hair they can bleach
Minor amendments --- mini-mends
Major amendments --- maxi-mends
Mickey Mouse --- Minnie mends
Bare with me a moment, my friends, if you will
Please bare in mind our precious constitutional right
~ The right to bare arms
A crazed shooter is shooting up a school:
Death stalks the halls, where children are dying.
And an automatic rifle's his tool,
leaving grieving parents shocked and crying.
Hunkered down in classrooms behind locked doors,
kids call home; there's little time for goodbyes.
Facing the horror of blood on school floors;
friends watch as friends die in front of their eyes.
Large magazines pump out shot after shot;
while so many lives are needlessly lost.
For these few moments of fame, a crackpot
does not care about the horrific cost.
The NRA backs his constitutional right
to buy such a weapon: it's his birthright.
Thousands of students marched today
they came to share their fears and pain
grieving for friends needlessly slain.
It was clear what they had to say
enough is enough, no more lies
nothing has been done, no one tries.
I saw hope and love on display
warning politicians, their vote
will help keep this issue afloat.
Blaming the NRA for the gun play
semi-automatic rifles
aren't constitutional trifles.
Chanting children are oft the prey
they demand that gun laws be changed,
stop selling guns to the deranged.
I had to wipe a tear away
when they talked of their friends dying
and scenes that were horrifying.
Thousands of students marched today
it was clear what they had to say,
I saw hope and love on display
blaming the NRA for the gun play.
Chanting children are oft the prey,
I had to wipe a tear away.
(Constanza)
Apr.7, 2018
Things That Are Constitutional
Am concerned about what is constitutional,
And followed by politicians exists a refusal;
Necessary for nutrition;
Intelligence exhibition;
For existence of democracy is essential.
Jim Horn
My Horn Political Poem Series
Every week day, I walk at least one mile
Often I push it up to two or more.
The mood strikes me and I'm off with a smile.
I always start by walking out the door;
taking steps with care, I never trample.
Keeping in shape and I love to explore.
Some days, I just wander, for example,
new homes, new streets, new pets, new folks to meet.
Tasting the locals just for a sample.
At my church garden bench, I take a seat;
sometimes, I must stop and get off my feet.
August 2, 2016
Library parking lot is full so I moved where are you?
If you are where I think you are, you're in luck I'm not far.
If you're hiding at the bar don't come home I won't be there it's true
If your taking time to pray hurry up we'll be on the way
Is there something I should know? Why is similar cars keep circling me?
I don't have time for this. My chance at love I don't want to miss.
broken entry frame
the girl wiggles,giggles,pass out
yo,i wrote the thing
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.