Gunslinger, hellspawn
Thrived from Bane, a Western town
He was a preacher in his prime
To saving souls, he gave his time
Condemned to death, but done no crime
For, he was framed in gleam of dime
A murderer, he was then called
So, to the devil, his soul, he sold
In deathly rope, he died in pain
But from the dead, he rose again
For, he must make some wrong things right
So to his gun, he clung so tight
In dark of night and light of day
He's meant to venge, he's meant to slay
With gun in hand, he shoots to kill
Those fools who made his blood spill
April 28, 2023
Spawn Variants Poetry Contest (7th place)
Sponsored By: Robert James Liguori
A
preacher,
Jeremy
Winston lived out
West two-hundred years
ago. He was framed for
murder of his family.
Mammon offered him revenge if
Winston gave up his soul. Although killed,
he came back to life as Gunslinger Spawn!
Winston was commanded to kill all the
townspeople except for Parker, who
he was ordered to float down a
river in a casket. By
saving Parker, he saved
an ancestor of
Hellspawn, who would
destroy one
day the
world!
April 17, 2023
For the Spawn Character contest of Robert James Liguori
Sam Adams was a cowboy
Back in the wild west
A badass gunslinger
For hire to the biggest bidder
Often working for the law
Sometimes working for the outlaws
He did not see much difference
He took the jobs
That paid him the most
Thought that if he did not do it
Someone else would no doubt
Sam Adams thought about death
As he shot those that needed killing,
Better them than him he thought.
With a sneer and a s....
His hand on the trigger
The little boy cocked his gun
His friends ran away
Cos' they would not play
With a boy that was no fun
Note...
Laugh in a half-suppressed and typically scornful way
Snicker in American Sn....... in English as in all dictionaries with no offensive connotations whatsoever.
I find the exclusion of the rest of the word in my poem out of my comprehension.
(Quick off the top of my haid)
Da dibble go down to Georgia
A town in Texas, who knew
He went on de run
He took his six gun
Lookin' for to doo wacka doo.
He comed across a young sure-shot
Targetin' a hickory stump
Dibble feelin' sly
Slithered up to this guy
And patted him upon the rump.
"What you doin' mistuh?
You hyeh lookin' to die?
We'll duel then you'll
End up a dead fool
For layin' yo' hand on my thigh."
Dey faced off and Johnny drew
But de dibble had drawn his too
They pissed in the wind
They humped and they sinned
And de dibble got his koo koo ka joo.
a silver of a gunslinger,
is a silver of gold
silver is a gunslinger silver of gold
gold is a gunslinger gold
gold is a gunslinger silver
a gunslinger gold is a gunslinger silver
a gunslinger is a fool of gold
a gunslinger is a fool of silver
fool is fool’s silver
fool is fool’s gold
fool is fool’s silver gold
fool is fool’s silver gunslinger
silver gold is silver silver
silver rule gold
silver rule silver
a gunslinger gold is his rule of gold
a gunslinger gold is his rule of silver
gold rule gold
a gunslinger rule gold
a gunslinger rule a gunslinger silver
a gunslinger rule a gunslinger gold
Idyllic country setting, from somewhere in the past
Imagine an expanse of rich green grass
Running up to a fence, fronting a proud red barn
The subject of this timeless, yet timely yarn …
The sky painted with bright streaks, close to sunset
Showers had been falling; the world was still wet
From the smell of Spring rains that long linger
Blended with the acrid smoke of a lone gunslinger …
The barn door lay open, not a trace of the horse
Its stall disheveled, from the application of force
The hay unheaten, drops of blood all around
And the gun of a lone gunslinger left on the ground
The owner paused a moment, then wept like a child
Unabashed, herky-jerky, without end did he cry
'Cause he knew full well, as his tears they did swell
That his steed had fallen victim to a gunslinger from Hell
The sun set in the West; night had descended
The life of the horse over, finished, ended ...
Years later folks still recalled the yarn, and the smell
Of the stall emptied by a gunslinger, by his magnum's death knell
Fairly
Squarely
Rarely
Barely
Shot from the hip fairly, squarely true
Loaded clip but, rarely, barely drew
1-19-2018
Gunslinger
I swung the doors open, hard and loud
My view was hindered by the cloud.
Of smoke and ash in hand and tray
As I darkly stood in that old doorway.
Dried blood 'n stale beer spotted the floor.
They told of bad stories while predicting more.
It was their place, I came from afar.
I was the stranger in the ol' folks bar.
I wasn't like 'dem, ol' regular folk.
I came with a holster not proverbial joke.
My face was grimy, my spurs showed rust,
I groaned, I shouted, and 'den I cussed.
She saw my move, it preceding her scream
Now before her eyes one horrific dream.
My hand with pistol rose into place
She lifted her arms and covered her face.
I downed my whiskey, 'da final drop
Everything slowed, then came to a stop.
I fired first once and again now twice
Then I left that ol' bar and 'dem two dead mice.
High noon...
somewhere in the deep west
a drifter rides into town in need of a fresh horse and some rest.
He carries two 45's
custom made to his taste
with pearl handles and cursed steel
many a man have tasted their fate.
He carries no badge, rides without a gang
and for a purse of silver
all he needs is a location and a name.
He asks no questions
don't care about the man or his crimes
if justice comes by way of payment
then it'll be done swiftly and on time.
The deputy gets the sheriff
the body found late that afternoon
the dead man seemed to like his poker
in the towns seedy saloon.
the sheriff pushes back the slumped over gambler
to see the dead man's fate
two in the chest, one in the head
funny, the deputy chuckled, he was holding five eights.
The gunslinger rides north
it's been hours since the cheaters fate had been sealed
it's a half a day's ride to tombstone
there he'll pay for a woman and a meal.
but for now, he'll stop, build a fire
and listen to the coyote's sing
this is the life of a gunslinger
haunted by wanted posters
and what tomorrow may bring.
Copyright © Kurt Kohls |
Only one scar, from a kid in Montana.
His mom had him placed in a field of lantana.
The kid was still smiling as smoke from his vest
plumed when the bullet slammed through his chest.
With a split second draw as smooth as fresh cream,
another man falls just short of his dream.
He doesn't pull quicker to take the man's life
but to save the man years of a gunslinger's strife.
A welter of faces has challenged his game
but the soles of their boots all look the same.
The fame he once sought now plagues him in curse;
too many men he's lain in the hearse.
One day soon he'll give a slight pause
and a younger gunslinger will take up the cause.
They'll come for him too, from the east to the west
and he too in mercy, will lay them yo rest.
He use to carry guns,Back in the day.
But he had put them up,to start a new way.
He found a wife,and would settle down.
Just a short stretch,on the outside of town.
A young daughter,the two would raise.
And soon forgot, his gunslinger days.
Then they came,their intentions were clear.
To rob and kill,anyone who was here.
They left that house,one thing they would dread.
They didn't make sure,everyone was dead.
He opened his eyes,saw her laying on the floor.
As he caught a glimpse of them,a dozen or more.
He healed from his wounds,laid his little girl to rest.
He vowed for revenge,as he opened the chest.
He put his guns on again,looking straight ahead.
He would not stop,until they all were dead.
Out the door he went,to the house he would never return.
He would go to his grave,with a heart that would burn.
And now you know,the gunslingers story is told.
The killing of his family,and the way it would unfold.
He was a gunslinger from the lone star state,
With a mind full of anger and a heart full of hate.
He wore two six shooters,one on each hip,
With the notches of the dead cut into the grip.
The eyes of this gunslinger showed no emotion or fear,
Every one kept there eyes on him when he was near.
Then along came a stranger,with a star upon his chest,
Looking for the man from the deep southwest.
He called the man out from the lone star state.
He knew that talking was useless,his words would carry no weight.
As they pulled there guns,the gunslinger gave it his best.
But the bullet that struck first was from the man with the star on his chest.
When the gunslinger hit the ground,the marshal asked him why,
The man from the lone star state showed emotion and shed a tear from his eye.
She was just a kid when the gang rode into town,
She was barely sixteen,why did they gun her down.
You finally put me to rest,the anger and hate will finally subside,
And as the gunslinger past away,the marshal finally knew why.
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