Gunning For Poems | Examples

Premium Member The Chiefs Got Smoked

Patrick Mahomes and his boys all choked
When they went up against the Eagles, they got smoked.
The winning team in the Super Bowl earns a coveted trophy.
It's named in honor of the late Vince Lombardi.
The Kansas City team was gunning for number three.
However, that scenario was just not to be.
It was all due to Jalen Hurts and his company.
Super Bowl fifty-nine is now a part of history.
The Eagles from Philadelphia won the victory.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The One That Got Away

Was Santa pushed? let the Jury decide
The Jury are gunning for Terry's hide
Terry then started to wail
Because they denied him bail 
They then charged him with violent Santacide. 

"Not guilty you cretins it wasn't me" 
Judge asked" are you pleading insanity "? 
While the Judge was distracted 
Terry moved quick and acted 
Hopped over the court railing and was free.


For now anyway


Written 30th November 2022
Form: Limerick


Lost Files While Doing Twelve Miles

Who would still keep tears for Romeo
With his sweet Juliet on Video
Or to hacked dreams on the Radio
Listen quite glued to The Audio?

Not while I have Misplaced Folio
I’d dropped in a boarded Rodeo
“Here I come Crucial Interviews
T hat should change Enemies’ Harsh Views
About my wounds I can suture
And my worth - still Intact Future!”

But why dare I try what a few 
Would of those gunning for Life New?
An Unlawful Forgetting Mind,
When Rare Luck decides to be kind…

Now, to Radio House for lost files
While on a Jeep doing Twelve Miles
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Caveman

A caveman is a slave man to his physicality 
He lacks the common courage of a kind philosophy
His calling isn’t running for a newfound sophistry
And yet he won’t be gunning for a new maturity

His progress is reflective in a procreative spree
A gene that is selective in the course of history
The purpose of our pleasure is a practicality
The promise of a treasure in our own posterity

The patience of persistence is our new proclivity
To plunder our existence for a primal urgency
The peace of our resistance is a tasteful harmony
The increase of insistence on our true nobility

Our notion of devotion is an oath of honesty
The bedrock of emotion for a new civility 
The trouble with promotion is a lack of clarity
The rumble of commotion in a caveman family

The human is a calling to be all that you can be
The spirit of adventure with the pride of dignity
The path is no vocation to a man of charity
The humble invocation of a new trajectory.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Blue Ducks Gunning For Farmer Bob

The day the pond dried up, the ducks were blue.
They spoke to the chickens, the turkeys, the peacock too.
They wanted to speak to the rancher, and possibly sue.
He was nowhere around, that tight wad, Magoo.

I know it’s his fault the blue ducks said, forming a mob.
They began to taunt him, calling him by his name – Bob.
His wife came out and tried to chase them with a broom.
They enticed her to eat a psychedelic mushroom.

She was soon on their side, and she rebuilt the pond.
The ducks were less blue, but Farmer Bob was still gone.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member One of You Has To Be the Adult

I told the mama on the phone, "one of you has to be the adult
And it cannot be your five-year old child. That is not fair."
She came gunning for me after my next class.
I was horrified, but went to my office to see what she wanted. 
She began bawling. She was pregnant and needed a nap.
I told the school nurse to stop calling her to bring him home early daily.
Bossing two adults in one day.
I never do that, but I did.
And guess what? It worked. 
The next week, this mommy called me and thanked me over and over.

Premium Member Gun Duel

I really kept no score 
Yet the signal contest wore
Give us your best, give us more
Let the bore of your gun be forty four

A no holds barred Wild West contest
Gunning for the heart in our chest
Some wore a bulletproof vest
Shot in head, laid to rest

Out in the open, no refuge
Gun equalises small and huge
Some contestants used subterfuge
Single bullet more potent than a deluge

Doc Holliday legend was dying of cancer
Long barrelled 44 had all the answers
Lighting fast was flicker of trigger 
Steely eyes that did not waver 

23-April-2021

Guns poetry contest
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Form: Rhyme

Heart Break

I gave you my heart
Then you tore it apart
You made me feel loved
Because of you I'm in an emotional flood

Now because of you I feel unloved
Clearly with you i misjudged
I thought you were the one
But then you said we're done

I let my walls down
When you were around
I made the mistake
One i hope to never remake

At first you made my heart be fast
Who I was i to think that'll last
You took everything I gave
Then threw me away with a wave

My heart is broken
Because of the way you've spoken
I've lost trust in love
Due to you giving me the shove

My heart will eventually heal
Which I intend to always conceal
Your in for a world of hurt
Hope your on high alert

My family's gunning for you
You bit off more than you could chew
You made the mistake of hurting me
That is a guarantee

You better start running
Because my family is coming
Your gonna regret meeting me 
Many people would agree

You messed with the wrong person
Your life is about to worsen
I hope your ready
Because soon your life will be unsteady
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Quickly Gave Her My Email

Let’s exchange emails she says.
You are the only woman I have ever met
Who has not betrayed, lied, or cheated me. 
Most of the women I meet 
Try to steal my husband,
Lie to my face
Backstab me
or do something else mean and underhanded.
I can tell you stories, and they are all bad.
I have never had a good friend. 
But if you double cross me, I will come gunning for you.
I cannot imagine a sweeter invitation. 
I readily give her my email of course.
Eager to be friends with her.

Thirty Something

The first was a wee bird 
How clear the glass 
Its thud was loudly heard 
Rendered it to the earthen grass…
The second was the pig, squealing 
Yielding its life in a blood-letting, crass 
Still heard inside, the porky-pealing…

Swollen turtle mommy was to shed 
Ocean tears before her eggs boiled - unappealing 
Mealy-mouthed slurping of yolk-sloppy dread 
Even now, such distaste, recoils… 
The chicken heads chopped-dead 
Headless guillotine shudders, roil  
In an abrupt death paroxysm 
Next, after panic-eyed goats, humans
Gunning for the body-soul schism…

(1/8/2020 Inspired by the contest: how death has affected you
Regal 2001 Commodore 2960; DMS)

Atomic Dawn

We might have lost a couple battles
But We’re still here to fight the war 
All these soldiers fighting and they 
Don’t know who they’re gunning for

And the killings indiscriminate 
Shooting at civilians 
Laughing as they murder 
Cause they never heard of discipline

And there isn no longer in control 
When the protesters hung for treason 
They’ve took the reigns now
So wave bye-bye to your freedoms 

But the last rebels never died 
And we’re coming back for more
Now with bigger cannons 
Since we witnessed atomic dawn 

And the futures not so bright
When we’re killing for our country 
Bombing on civilians 
Who are dying cause they’re hungry 

And too me 
Its kind of crazy man 
That the rats will fight each other 
And not rip off the  feeders hand 

And see me? 
I’m sick of this existence 
And if you’re angry too 
Stand and let’s form our own resistance 

And my belief in God 
It is now diminished
This is the final chapter
I am finally finished.
Form: Rhyme

My Changes For Tomorrow

MY CHANGES OF TOMORROW
IS FOR ME, NOT  TO BE IN SORROW.
AND FURTHERMORE, MY CHANGES OF TOMORROW
IS FOR ME, NOT NEED TO OWE OR TO BORROW.
  BUT MY CHANGES OF TOMORROW, 

IS FOR ME TO FLY HIGH LIKE A SPARROW, WHILE I WALK STRAIGHT AND NARROW.
AND ALWAYS FOR ME, TO REMEMBER TO ALWAYS KEEP MY EYEBROWS UP
AS A REMINDER NOT TO BE SCARED LIKE A SCARECROW,
AND NOT STRIVE FOR MY TOMORROW. 

BUT AS LONG I CONTINUE TO PUSH FORTH FOR MY TOMORROW
MY CHANGES WILL SHOW AS IT GLOW; GROW
AND YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I AM PUSHING FOR MY TOMORROW
NOT TO BE SORROW, SLOW; ALSO BELOW, BUT FOR IT TO BE,
BIGGER, BETTER; ALSO BRIGHTER; THAT IS WHAT I AM GUNNING FOR; AS WELL RUNNING FOR, FOR IT TO BE A BETTER ONE; AND NOT A BITTER ONE.
Form: Rhyme

A Trib To the Realest Dreamer

Walking the straight line
Hellbound, gunning for heaven
Military mind
By shadows can't be worried
Else your dreams will be buried
Form: Tanka

Was the West Really That Wild

Was the West Really That Wild 

They had been a big bunch of crabs
Complaints came from mouth that blabs
According to formula I recently equated
They all should be completely eliminated.

Remember when west had much luster
Had a Crabbe with first name of Buster
And then on you another one soon grew
Who was none other than Lash LaRue.

Tom Mix had mixed it up with the Duke
Of horrendous Hazard or Cool Hand Luke
When last time John and me again met
He was on a Monument Valley film set.

Could West really be benevolent or wild
Or by many people were we being beguiled
Things were peaceful and soon settled down
Until another convention came to town.

Don't bring politicians to town or pistols
either for that matter. Politicians will be
gunning for your vote.

Jim Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Form: Couplet

Cowboy Heaven

John Wayne will be there 
and the steaks will be rare,
in Cowboy Heaven;
And the Posse will be – not  gunning for me 
- in Blue Yonder sky
 
The saloon’s never dry, 
it’s all free - you don’t buy,
in Cowboy Heaven;
Three fingers of rye, no more patch on my eye
- in Blue Yonder Sky
         
I’ll be riding off into the sunset, 
Saddled up on my trusty old steed
But my permanent ‘get out of jail’ card, 
guarantees that by dawn I’ll be freed
 
The Good Sheriff will be 
on the lookout for me,
in Cowboy Heaven;
Keeping injuns at bay, 
sending snakes the wrong way
 - in Blue Yonder sky
 
My horse just won’t care, 
‘cos them spurs won’t be there,
in Cowboy Heaven;
He’ll be swishing his mane 
on the tumbleweed plain
- in Blue Yonder Sky
             
There’ll be pictures of me 
nailed on every tree,
in Cowboy Heaven;
But there’ll be no reward , 
cos’ I’m loved by my Lord
 - in Blue Yonder Sky
 
All the good guys in white, 
and fightin’ the good fight,
in Cowboy Heaven;
What a place it will be - 
and the Whiskey’s on me
- in Blue Yonder Sky

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