If I was a sheriff
I would wear a gleaming gold star
A holster with silver twin six-shooters
You would be afraid of my sequined Stetson
As I march up and down the street
In my fancy embroidered braided cowboy boots
I would befriend Indians
If I was a sheriff
Categories:
holster, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Free verse
Today the boy, wanting to stay tuned, grabbed the VR
Sweating profusely, needed a washcloth bathing
Boys don’t enjoy Sundays but they do after all
The class in awe of Revelation, wanting more
fruit, casserole, sweets and godly treats
We were at the movies when the sermon broke in
and we wept as the sinners waded into the baptismal
Back home, the grabster and the friend on other end
A friend, who knows not him
Sitting with my wine in a boot, or something like that
Watching Martha, feeling sorry for her but elated
for she related to the prisoners
It is dark now and rain’s now in my boot
I take a sip and fall asleep
or rather
write a poem, from the hip*
*from the hip - to act impulsively, like drawing a gun from the holster.
Categories:
holster, day,
Form: Free verse
It is easier said than done!
Can holster hold a loaded gun
for so long to keep silent,
when desires are violent?
It is not that easy to shun!
3rd place
Categories:
holster, 10th grade,
Form: Limerick
Johnny was a teenage boy,
Young and bright, so excited.
Playing in the grass and mud,
Shining smiles, so delighted.
As he went to school that day,
Something broke, the world descended.
Countries tore each others land,
like wars in playgrounds, just pretending.
The year was 1939,
Europe fell, into chaos.
Johnny turned 15 that year,
Eyes so bright, dreams contagious.
He turned up to recruitment branch,
Passion high, determination.
Training started that same week,
Shining eyes, dedication.
Johnny wanted to be a tin soldier,
Johnnys gun was in his holster,
As he lied, on the grass,
Army of children.
Golden canes of ember light,
Shooting stars, through the night.
Fire from artillery,
Golden orbs, dazzling light.
A thousand footprints filled the mud,
Gaping holes, filled the soldiers.
Johnny’s dream was fading out,
Piercing eyes, hands get colder.
Dreams of playing in the grass,
Safe and warm, daddy’s shoulder,
Now he sits, he kneels and prays,
Covering, by a boulder.
Johnny wanted to be a tin soldier,
Johnnys gun was in his holster,
As he lied, on the grass,
Army of children.
Categories:
holster, dark, death, deep, dream,
Form: Rhyme
She’d statuesque legs, and eyes that smoulder
Over came Jacques, tipped her on the shoulder
‘Excuse-moi, femme fatal’
‘J’adore’ your bearded pal
“Does she have ‘un pistolet’ or holster?”
Categories:
holster, french, fun, people,
Form: Limerick
So this be the day after
nineteen forty-one
Be December the eighth, the
nightmare has begun.
Pearl Harbor still in blazes
all watched the Pearl dull,
Bodies are everywhere, some
crawl or ... not at all.
Some boats are okay, though they're
mostly smaller ships,
Large ones burning, some capsized ...
need to come to grips.
"We are having our jobs cut
out for us, Franklin,"
"Do you think my namesake has
some sort of game plan."
"They sure dropped on us, we should
put the drop on them."
"Government can make something
we can throw at 'um
"Infamy, Frank's way over
there, and it's just us."
"Last I heard, all his four son's
giving dad justice."
"Serving somewhere ... let's holster
the guns." "Right, a-ha!"
"Don't need 'um carrying the
stretchers, GO!" "Oorah!"
Categories:
holster, allusion, analogy, dark, death,
Form: Rhyme
If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also” (Matthew 5:38-39).
They pulled my hair,
twisted my ears, and pushed me down
the aisle. They mocked me and spat at me,
those three big bullies with guns!
They called me names, insulted my religion
and said my mother was a whore!
I suffered it in stoic surrender,
with Lords name on my lips!
Then one of them kicked me hard,
on the backside, closer to my left cheek,
that is when I swung around,
and shot the bastards through their heads!
well, you know, I may have to explain,
if some one kicks me on the left cheek,
my gun with holster is on my right cheek!
for those who kick me on the right,
I carry a gun on my left too!
Let God be with them!
Written 21/10/2023
Miranda Hawley sponsored
Pick a topic sentence Poetry Contest.
Categories:
holster, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
Black on good
Touches his manhood
Like a mother should
Thinks it should be in a museum
For God and good
Joey, dreamlike
Always plays it cool
Keeps a gun tucked
Fourteen carat
Sideways dude
Mississippi, likes the rap
Urban cowboy
Got a holster with a flap
Just call me Missi
With an I
The first to die
Deals going down
Going down good
Expansion is the mood
Big time around the bend
Not now but when
Time to ascend
Hit the new den
Death was quick for Missi
With an I
No fast draw
Urban cowboy
Shot in both eyes
Joey heard the scream
Through the dream
Pulled from the tuck
Kill you all
Shot off his balls
Sideways fall
Black on good
Like a brother
Felt their pain
Shot trying to save
Respect
Got his final wish
Passed the Museum to his grave.
Categories:
holster, death, death of a
Form: Free verse
Bank robber Jim was one unlucky bloke
Went to draw his gun but the holster broke
It dropped on the bank floor
And went off with a roar
The shock was too much and he had a stroke...
Though he was unconscious he hadn't died
Woke in a coffin for his final ride
In a desparate bid
Banged on the coffin lid
But all he could hear was laughing outside...
Written 17th June 2021
Categories:
holster, humor,
Form: Limerick
Enough is Enough
The more we have
The more we want
When will Enough be Enough?
The more we fear
The more we want
The more tears we shed
The more tears to come
I beg of you God
When will Enough be Enough?
When there’s more on the street
There’s more to repeat
I believe it insane
The loss of so many
When will Enough be Enough
Stop playing this game
Is not for fame
Finding courage
In a six inch barrel
Is gravestone peril
When will Enough be Enough
My right to life
Precludes your right to holster
Today so Many
Tomorrow so many, many more
Why not we?
Dear God!
When will Enough be Enough?
Another eight today. My heart bleeds.
Lon 4/16/2021
Categories:
holster, political, sad, sorrow, violence,
Form: Free verse
Kitty McGraw was on the run with her pa.
They had robbed all the cat nip out of St. McClaw.
Sheriff Tee declared it was a draw
After he drew a gun on the two name of McGraw.
He had an audience now, lots of felines to impress.
She was wearing a holster and pistol over her dress!
The ladies in the audience fell into a swoon.
Sheriff Tee winked at her pa, sitting on steps to saloon.
They are evil, these two monsters, sheriff added to boast.
Pretending they were the worst while Kitty ate her toast.
In actuality, he knew them pretty well secretly.
For they were cousins of his, living most discreetly.
Kitty came out blazing; sheriff looked silly.
A bragging hillbilly.
Categories:
holster, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Your strongest day is standing
just outside your door. Let it in.
Each day the sun comes home to you
it whispers with the wind
calling out your name.
This is no video game.
Life’s a bouquet banquet
made from your reflections.
You do not need directions.
Pick your moments carefully.
Stop and smell the roses,
leave your motor running
for the dangers trust exposes.
Listen to where life comes from
the beating sound of your own drum.
Make the most of music that it brings.
Unraveling all your tangled balls of strings.
With patience Iron out each peace,
holding tight to all you love
with nails and teeth.
Now put your stubby thumbs
through their tiny holster loops
and pull your britches up.
Hitch them high,
and puff out your chest !!
You’ve always been ready for this.
This is not a test.
This is your life.
Categories:
holster, adventure, character, courage, identity,
Form: Free verse
I'll be your Bonnie and you be my Clyde
Trust and loyalty we always provide
Taking on the world always by your side
No secrets between us we’ve nothing to hide
Down for you and you for me our love is unique
One that stands throughout time as it’s epic
Us against the world is how it should be
Taken out our enemies in killing sprees
I’m your ride or die every single day
Untouchable, like Ness even when we play
You stimulate my body and my mind
Thief of love your the mastermind
I'm your Bonnie and your my Clyde
If a poison you'd be my cyanide
I curl up to you as you pull me closer
In your arms I’m the pistol your the holster
I'll be your Bonnie you'll be my Clyde
Trust and loyalty we always provide
Taking on the world always by your side
No secrets between us we’ve nothing to hide
Categories:
holster, love,
Form: Rhyme
Crack, I feel it burn, as it tears right through my flesh.
The bullet came from nowhere, , it missed my vest.
Cold, yet strangely feeling warm, I watch the red patch grow.
I reach for my own firearm, but that arm, it just won’t go.
Crash, there goes our windshield, the glass keeps raining down.
I crawl out of the driver’s seat, as my partner hits the ground.
From underneath I see him, the life has left his eyes.
Limitless rage has filled me, as I glance up at the skies.
My weapon arm is shattered, the first bullet hit the bone.
Reaching with my other hand, I hope this guy’s alone.
I clicked it from its holster as I felt him drawing near.
He came around the corner, he drew, I froze in fear.
I watched in zoomed slow motion, as the hammer slowly cocked.
The trigger pulled, the hammer fell, I waited for the shock.
Click, he’s out of ammo, I raise my shaking hand and scream,
As my Bullet pierced his forehead, I wake, in sweat, a dream.
Categories:
holster, death,
Form: Free verse
‘One has to grow hard but without ever losing tenderness.’
I did not know that my hero was a sex god as well
But he wrote The Motorcycle Diary without any Zen
‘Every day People straighten up the hair, why not the heart?’
Never contemplate a revolution on a bad hair day
So he sported an iconic bandana to dress for a war
‘Don't Shoot I'm Che I'm worth more to you alive than dead!’
A bullet reaches as far as the range of a shell
Revolution rises from residue to the living
‘Democracy represents the dictatorship of the exploiting classes’
No opium for the masses and the jungle for a home
Pistol in belt tongue in cheek and always controversial
‘Better to die standing than to live on your knees’
He lived by the sword for the benefit of ploughshares
A doctor turned renegade marxist Central American style
‘We have no right to believe that freedom can be won without struggle’
Justice does not appear without shadows from Nowhere
He killed fewer people in battle than Trump or Obama
10th February 2020
All sentences in quotation marks by Ernesto Che Guevara
Categories:
holster, war,
Form: Ode
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