O soil of Gaza, within your belly lie the souls of our children,
Their flesh you consumed without a conscience,
Their blood runs deep into your hidden streams,
Yet you boast of swallowing their tender bones.
You paved a path for our their deformed limbs,
Without pity, you grant their innocence a bed.
We weep, yet you pretend our tears are sweat,
While you take joy in burying our children.
The bombs they hurl on your blossoms explode,
Cutting lives short, dismissing our children's future.
You turn their gun-shattered bodies into your fertility,
But of what use, when their limbs lie withered?
O soil of Gaza, vomit out the souls of these children,
—
in innocence they entered your gluttonous belly.
Their days are better above you than within you,
So why did you allow your greed to take them away?
“Gun violence is the price we have to pay to uphold our Second Amendment rights to bear arms”
—Charlie Kirk
his life the price paid
Charlie’s take on mass shootings…
cool down rhetoric
Rooting for zany and cunning Daffy Duck
wrong place wrong time ~ somewhat of a schmuck
at the wrong end of Elmer Fudd’s gun
not much fun to always be on the run
AP: 3rd place 2025
It sounded like gun shots
As if someone is shooting bullets from a car on the road
Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop Pop
My dogs did not respond
But I did
because the hair rose on the back of my neck
And I recognize gunfire
From TV shows
The Gunman
In Montreal, in a bar frequented by shadowy
people who used French phrases, making money
fraud and mayhem, I bought a revolver that still
had five bullets in its chamber
The next morning, our ship was bound for Japan.
I worried about the gun, perhaps used in a heist
where someone got killed, and there was
The Kennedys are still in our memory
Chief, they said, you look absent-minded, what's
Wrong, nothing is wrong. I have a slight cold.
Near the Sea of Japan, I threw the weapon overboard
because I knew if I had a gun when I was growing up
I would, in my anger, have used a gun
I threw the revolver overboard, and an hour later, the
cartridges I didn't want they to meet up
The next day, I was my old self, free of guilt
STAN THE SQUIRREL
In Texas, there lived a squirrel named Stan,
with his six-gun, he defended the land.
He challenged coyotes to duels,
and outsmarted the local old fools,
wielding justice with his special brand.
With a hat made of leather, quite grand,
he scampered and leapt like a cowhand.
He chased off bad guys and crooks,
with his acorn-filled hooks,
outdrawing the best, Stan’s in high demand!
There once was a man who loved guns
With women he hit no home runs
He'd whip out his round
And shoot it outbound
While wishing to target their buns
Corncob lay basking in the sun
Sunbathing and having such fun
But it got so hot
His nib-lets were shot -
Popping off the flies, when done
When under the gun how can one
not be outdone by nepotism
or overcome by favouritism
altho' the norm they're no more
than a form of terrorism
a nebulous opponent none can fight
on the human landscape
naught but a blight
from which we can't escape or run
any self-respecting someone would shun
and as for me you see
I was obviously yet definitely
born in the wrong place
at the wrong time with the wrong face
seeing promotion from outside in the cold
not a foot could I put over the threshold
what with doors slammed progress jammed
out of my depth in over my head
can't get a look-in may as well be dead
Not its your turn my pretty
to prick your finger on the blade
taste the repercussions of what you have set to cause on my fate
now it will reflect back to you
in the form of time On every watch, every ticking clock
In every failed friendship, in every loss.
You shall forever remember my name
you shall forever remember this face
and reminisce on what you did to me.
Mess with my peace and tranquility
I will have death knocking at your door.
In a race on the savannah
fleet of foot is the cheetah
at up to 75 mph
no animal can beat her
and with a top speed of 50 mph
lion is the second fastest cat
tho' at
38 mph a leopard can't change its spots
the lion can do that
cubs are born with them and later lose
to become lion spots have-nots
an ostrich third place will land
at up to 43 mph
if it takes its head out of the sand
tho' cheetahs don't have racing stripes zebra do
(Burchell's, mountain and Grévy's)
but they're no boon for at 40 mph
they're only 10 mph ahead of a yellow baboon
however no matter how fast they all run
none can beat the speeding bullet
fired from a hunter's gun
Where my mind on my sleeve
I have s.p.e.(I know you will get it eventually)
and probably dyslexia
Playing golf with a wolf called Rolf
as you do
Where were meant wear
one plus one
The rain the bough
Brought the drought
Jamaican hair
I so dread
If there was no nothing how would we now
The animal trap
The artist the athlete the strength of the human condition
The leaders still fight
Those inner demons
Dance death into extinction
Loves only threat
Humans were a joke
Then they reached Olympus
Take the waves thrashing the ships
Be the conquerer
The life that takes
The world remakes
The feeling so hard and dark
At Attention stands the demon man
We can walk in the footsteps of tortured and striped bare
If you can show you care
We never support
A gun
A good reason
A promise to kill us
Dress a girl a letter,
Printing numbers on her back.
Buy her flowers,
Give her powers,
Wrapping poison round her neck.
One day she’ll leave you,
She’ll deceive you,
And you’ll be better off dead.
So, you won’t get far with that head
Unless you break your neck
And yet you still ask to the sun
If the moon has won,
If the war has really ended
Or it's just begun.
So you’ll dress a girl a letter,
And print numbers on her neck.
Steal her powers,
Buy her flowers,
Say she’s better off dead.
Oh, you’ll deceive her,
But believe her,
When she’s messing with your head.
Ignore the blood beneath her nails ,
because you pay for them instead.
But the wars already won,
It was done and fun,
You were caught between a victory, a romance and a gun.
So when you pull your head together from the cracks beneath the earth
Steal her flowers
She’s deflowered
Push her back against the world
The war was won
And you are done
You are both swimming in your hurt
And then your hand reached for the gun.
“No notes,” the teacher said to us,
"and there's nothing you're allowed to discuss.
This is a pop quiz,
to write an analysis
of what to do when someone with a gun approaches our bus."
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