Long Ammo Poems
Long Ammo Poems. Below are the most popular long Ammo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ammo poems by poem length and keyword.
the world watches Holmes
sit “dazed” in the courtroom,
with each mainstream media
monolith
churning out the sound bites
referencing his eyes & his
red hair---
the picture that goes viral is
of course the one that can
be likened most to something
out of Heath-Ledger-as-The-
Joker-101,
visually answering questions
for the people at home,
because we all know that
individuals who dye their hair
red are megalomaniacs who
will more than likely, eventually,
inevitably, order bullet proof
clothing, a gas mask & 6, 000
rounds of ammo, with the
“calculated & deliberate”
intent to walk into a movie
theater & blast everyone into
oblivion.
and when every talking head
from Oates to Obama, comments
on the massacre, we watch them
stumble over the responsibility
that this culture has to own up to
when something like this happens---
rather, they weigh it all on the
shoulders of one red haired
young person, whilst hugging
the loved ones, the family of those
whose members were killed.
subtly inactive in regards to the
actual problem at hand,
mumbling things about finding
better ways to “take every step
possible to ensure the safety of
all of our people,” all the words
that flow from mr. hope & change’s
mouth add up to no actual veering from
the status quo in the future & the mum
mum hush hush gun industry knows
this, giving the big man a nod.
instead, we look with inspiring eyes at
Obama, when he tries to gain a
collective sense of sympathy from the
crowd, when remarking that “we may
never understand what leads anybody
to terrorize their fellow human beings
like this”…
and as we shake our heads &
hug ourselves, just hoping that such
violence never affects us directly,
or harms our own families/friends in such
a manner,
we all turn a blind eye to the people
that our military has massacred throughout
the more than 200 years that our country has
existed &
we turn a blind eye to the violence enacted
upon the citizen’s here at home, who have
suffered & continue to suffer
at the hands of the police & state
officials,
whilst the paranoid & terrified hicks
out in the middle of bumble****
no man’s land,
clench their rifles & their pistols,
never having been threatened by anyone,
anywhere, for any reason at all,
thinking that the whole world is out to
get them,
swearing that they will never move a
muscle in the direction of progress.
The klaxon sounds and off we do scurry
Up to the gun house we head in a hurry
Through narrow p-ways and up noisy stairs
We pass each other with far away glares
What threat to meet, all do wonder
We’re well trained and there’ll be no blunder
Hatches closed and scuttles secured
Drive motors humming, we speak not a word
Ammo to the hoist, battle dress in place
Flash hoods cover all but our face
“Mt 51 manned and ready!”
Gas eject air pressure is holding steady
“Air action port!” our circuits align
Gun slews, the target to find
“On target aircraft!” the checksight declares
Our peril confirmed, no drill, all just a deep inhale
“Right and left guns load!” first powder then shot
To the mad dance, cast we all our lot
Guns loaded, we track knowing not when
Waiting the salvo alarm, the dance soon to begin
Fourteen men poised, ready for the show
Bound to each other, not for their own glory they do go
Gong! Gong! Fire! The first stanza a roar
Then rapid and continuous we feed each bore
“Bore clear!” signals to load the next round
As hot-case men pitch spent brass to the ground
Practiced harmony, each motion robotic
Load!, Ram!, Fire!, Eject! the cadence hypnotic
Smoke and flareback, gases choking
Onward we whirl, and curse the foe attacking
“Foul bore left gun!”
A stuck case has us undone
Pry bar in hand, the Gunner appears
The extractors are broken, confirming worst fears
Casing removed and the gun finally clear
Up all night we’ll be, fixing this gear
“Cease fire!” all safely emerge
Realize we now, our fears to purge
Destruction averted, another hour to draw breath
Till the enemy returns, seeking our death
“Police up that brass and swab out those barrels!”
The chief keeps us all intent on the peril
They will come again, or we will seek them out
So little rest we take, while the issue is in doubt
***************************************
This describes a live shoot from the prospective of
the men manning a twin 5 inch gun aboard a destroyer.
These ships were common in our Navy from 1944 through
about 1980. The "old salts" out there will find this very familiar.
This is a spinoff from my "Tin Can Sailors" write even though
the ships in that story were single mounts. Same gun, but
with just one barrel. Those were before my time.
Well, get up on time,
See your days pass by.
Don’t ask questions,
To leaders of suppression.
Cause court is in session.
Obey this do that,
When you go out,
Don't wear hood or hat.
Ah, eat more Tyson food
City gave us a candle,
Ask for a meal, they might be in a good mood.
Lights, camera, action,
Fake your true reaction.
College teaching us
Basic subtraction,
Wondering if it’s all distraction
To what we love to do
Ah, sulfates in shampoo
Don’t complain about
Government voodoo
Whatever you do
Whatever you see
Don’t take it too personally.
Cause you might change the world
May do what they don't want you to.
Might abolish greed,
And you might uproot their evil seed.
Ads littered on t.v.
It’s bait for the hook
Crooks stalking my Facebook
Someone’s in a fight,
But people enjoy and look look look.
Well, Billy threw up
That corn syrup.
Read your schoolbooks and shut-up.
Rise for the anthem,
Rise for the pastor,
Labeled dumb for not
Thinking faster.
Sally resisted two faced authorities.
Cells are filled with innocent minorities.
Ah, preach it on hills
Lights flashing in Area 51,
They shut down my windmill
I’m faced with a giant and my ammo equals none.
How is my grandson gonna live?
If all he does is forgive
Those who take and do not give?
I’m staying home today,
To relax and pray.
Ah but GMO is in my fruit.
Saw a man trade his soul for a nice suit.
Hypocrites smile with snakes in their boots.
Ben came home with black eye
Then left his mama without a goodbye.
Mamas sittin on the porch only to cry
For her son who is now getting high.
Last week he was a victim in a driveby.
Read all about it in the news.
Single mother of none in suburban town of blues.
Little girl taken in an alleyway,
Policemen said they'll find her another day
Unless the parents have money to pay,
You won't be seein her face, hey!
Little girl grew up hangin by street corners,
Asking for one night for only four quarters.
Meanwhile in Flint Michigan
The water is polluted brown but they ain't listenin,
So the citizens are thirstin’
For some hydration.
Metals in their water
While the mayor counts his dollars
The governors apologize
But it's just more lies.
Read all about it in the news,
Truth is kept hidden in suburban town of blues.
OUR TIN POT NAVY so THEY SAID in 1914 Sydney in the first World War 1
In 1914 German cruisers were cut loose
and Emden she was one…………….…(fired 38lb shells)
the Indian ocean she did for hunting choose
and 9 ships were sunk by gun…….
Then she sailed and shelled Madras , I say
captured 10 more ships, when off Ceylon…
Penang harbour a night visit,… hey!
sank Frog and Ruski warships, and was gone ….(Emden was daring!)
November 8, morse code it said… strange ship a passing there,
out near Cocos island, the German raider caused a stir
Cruiser Sydney she raced west at 25 knots or more
And sighted wily Emden who opened fire for sure
Sydney took 15 hits before, she then hit back …..(with 100lb shells)
blew away her steering gear and knocked her funnels flat (Emden)
.. ………..demise………..
The Scrap Iron Flotilla they said in 1940
Light Cruiser Sydney in World War 2
Light Cruiser Sydney had some 6 inch guns
she met Italians in the med.
sank destroyer Espero not for fun
in nineteen forty, yes its said
17th july Sydney was on patrol, when,
she was called into a fight
2 Italian cruisers waited, then,
sprung some pommy destroyers in flight....(pommy English)
Yes Sydney came to even up
the poms out gunned for sure
when she arrived with blazing guns
the Italians run for shore
Bande Nere and Colleoni rushed a bit
made smoke to get away
Band Nere then she took a funnel hit
as Sydney passed her way
Collenoni then she wore the brunt
stopped dead by Sydney's shell
so Band Nere escaped the hunt
Sydney's out of ammo… well?.:)
But if you live by the sword you die by the sword
cunning German's had their day
Sydney met a ship with hidden guns aboard
Raider Kormoran made her play
Kormoran she hid behind a Dutch flag
and when Sydney came in range ………a sitting duck ... 1000 yards
she fired first, jerked down the rag……...old navy trick
two equals did exchange………………….similar guns…
Though mortally wounded Sydney, still,
had some guns to fire,
x turret still fired with a bitter will
burnt Kornoran …'the liar'…….Don Johnson
……….demise of both……….
No trace of the Sydney sailors ...Kormoran sailors made it to the barren west coast of
Australia
and were interned as P.O.Ws....Almost seems like Karma with payback by the German navy...
An Atlas slugged hanging from his foot by a noose of his own makings protocols of destruction these consider themselves elders faking copper smiths of there own design over their head in the swelling ford just because they consider themselves little gods does not make them Lord their report from iron mountain a disneying witch mountain enticed they lay in wait for the own blood a broken stagnant fountain War was a part of the economy the people expendable ammo reasons stand if you tell a lie long enough it is still a lie bravo extraterrestrial the devil and demons cast out of heaven waiting ever thousand years for there batman wedden dark eleventh knight their superman universal grey ghost what ever to hide the truth from the majority of the host by peace the anti-christ will destroy many policy twenty-one they are unhinged four atop in eight different languages but accord one look at their Georgia Guide stones their end justifies their means heaped behind curtains of oz down under their wizardly machine with their false commandments ten of their sorite cities where all motors stopped but they cant get off stuck in their throat a voodoo doll drinking tainted blood of a Moravian dynasty of a Tiburtine Sibyl reruns of a Orwellian Blavatsky’s snuff books of hidden uncivil they talk to their Seth's try to be gods without God oldest lie there is methodius of a pseudo Mithra's as Jezebel the false prophetess trampled of horse and rider ate by the dogs an unrecognizable burial vault cast in the field of iniquity like white dung a pillar of salt unknowingly predicts her own death not at the hands of her false gods stabbed but by the True and Living God And thou shalt smite the house of Ahab thy master,that I may avenge the blood of my servants the prophets, and the blood of all the servants of the LORD, at the hand of Jezebel.
we don’t appreciate
the sun until it r a i n s,
warmth of gentle rays
that subtly stroke
distressed skin
when time was f r o z e n
smiles were s t o l e n
and hope yet again
remains b r o k e n…
whilst I’m lying here
in the in-betweens of
procrastinated promises
along bitter breezes~
you use your poetic
words as a weapon,
oppressing the guardians
around my dreams,
oblivious to the
translucent truth
laced in trimmed nylon,
that you and me
we’re made of
the same s t o n e
we wear the same
crown of t h o r n s
sitting on the throne
of darkness, full of
stainless steel cages
and chain link fences,
turning
these emotions
into
cancerous tumors,
knocking on your
conscience, patronizing
the pigments of
my petal-like palette
by questioning
your own roots..
but now I’ve got feathers
in my bleeding heart,
and if these crimson wings
could fly, you’ll find me
soaring above seas
of solitude, that pushed
me down to an abyss
of n o t h i n g n e s s.
watch me unlock
the keys of jasmine doors
to seek serendipity surrender,
as my muse serenades
rainbow reveries,
amidst faded stars
and moonless nights
which
gaslit my
apologies and roses.
I have tried
to twirl through
ravenous ravens in a
carnival of carnivores
you’ve fed my mind
labelling me
as the serpent q u e e n
with twisted words,
whilst you whirl around
with
ghosts of p o e t r y
in your
cathartic h a z e..
your love
is a hand grenade
that shattered my aching
bones into scattered
s m o k e and f o g
they say
the biggest hearts
are the
biggest targets,
and the rifles you hold,
seems to have
my name engraved in
blood-soaked tears…
so, now that you’ve
pulled the trigger,
how would you stop
the ammo?
Will you remain forever
in your
unbending silence
a false humility
disguised
as k i n d n e s s
that flickers glitter,
to ascend brighter
as the bullet settles
upon my spine, halting
me from movement?
Or will you watch me
c r a w l back to the
spheres where I belong?
for I refuse to rot
as a victim of an
unwritten circumstance.
Poetry Soup, The foundation where I’m planting my roots,
Lassoed by a rope that’s never loose,
Always bringing me back,
I’m here, ready with no fear, high jacking minds causing post traumatic panic attacks,
Ya no match for Quincy Mac! Always attacking while on track,
Was once a street rat, intellectually faster and now your poetic master!
The Rhyme Advancer with the answers,
With deadly sexy stances of grammar,
Aggressive techniques you don’t seek, seen as dangerous, so you lag and stagger,
Dancing with words bringing this banger,
Too advanced, for the ignorant class, who lack comprehensive swagger,
Picking up my spanners, I assemble transcendental concepts making you tremble,
Majority blessed by their synthetic environment, so minds are simple, worthless like a pimple,
Needing popped, shocked into trauma, so you wake to the storm of the west,
Always assuming ignorance is an asset,
A threat to ya well-being, intelligence tells us we should want to know about everything,
So learn to THINK, in sync with observations that interlink with the missing link,
Quick, question your sick social rank, thoughts go blank? No one to thank for wise principals,
I perceive myself as a human individual, home is earth, but cursed with feeble people influenced by evil,
Been told I’m on a different level, NO! Believing this will take hold of my ego,
Instead I write with flow and send out these writings to your brains radio, So turn it up!
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow I pickup bombs of ammo,
As I undergo experiences growing my vocab to blow minds,
The Knowledge Mastermind, of good and the upheaval of fallen thoughts of evils,
Painting life right now, in this domain claiming a divine easel, that equals more than worldly rules,
Prepare ya tools, Reassemble your sanity from all the insanity and ball,
**** in the air, frequencies of fecal matter disrupting what you think, to you its nonexistent and nothing,
Writings encoded deeply, not for the sleepy, hard to put together like a double sided puzzle,
All or nothing, no trouble, with balance keeping an eye on my surroundings, while under my angels wings.
Quincy Mac
Date written: 11.6.2016
Living in dark days
of the last generation of Noah
Evil beast animals now rule the Earth
Peaceful human beings
are perpetual moving ark targets
In constant danger from the archers’ grip,
the meek souls pray always to God
that the deadly, hunter bullet arrows miss
Walking by faith
in the Land of the Gun ...
the vast American wasteland
Death metal warlords rule
in the desolate Land of the Gun
Pale shoguns
got the last peace rebels
on the run
Running from the violence
High lead mortality false profit driven,
the dry ground is flooded
with innocent blood corruption
Leaving morgue debris of souls bereaved
Constant siren wails
follow the fallen bodies on the
smoking barrel trail
Some say we’re living in a technological hell,
others believe in the cursed power
of never-ending, multiplying weapon sales
Trafficking on a perfidious path;
allured to the firing, silencer sound
of the damning, fiery chiming brimstone bell
Carved handles, death laden metal idols
bolster ammo-filled holster security
On scarlet satin beds of gunpowder pyre,
sleepers crypt rest with “No Trespass” ease
While wicked watchers lust for more,
as they voyeur revel in the exit wound bleed
Still, a remnant walk by faith
in the Land of the Gun
A chosen few peace outlaws
on a divine run
Running from the ceaseless violence
Seeking higher ground
from the blood flood below
Bearing witness of so much sorrow;
orphan tears flow
from closed coffin eyes
of weeping widows
These be the last dark days of Noah,
violence fills the Earth with a flood
And the levee broke in the Land of the Gun,
where fear moved
in the twilight direction of the falling sun
Oh, so much violence in the Land of the Gun,
the Wild West badlands
Where blood justice is dispensed,
executed by bullet judge and jury Americans
But the brave peace rebels
seek safe refuge,
by following the lowering path of the Son
Soon to be Resurrection rainbow returning
on the horizon —
Once the heavenly trump blow;
and the overcoming cleansing flow,
letting the Water of Life run ...
Washing away forever
the final end time Reign of the Gun
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
by: PD
(Innuendo -- Pigs)
All around are sticks and stone
Feel God's loving arms around you
-----At last, I am redeemed-----
A feast of my soul, you shall receive
A cake for dinner, I made out of stones
Ratchet pigs fill their dirty mouths,
Consuming my soul, sipping on champagne
At peace with myself, brushing off the walls
Nevertheless, tonight they speak in tongues
-I strain my ears to listen;
While pettitoes approach my page
I hear the squeals, I hear the chit chat
from he/she that wears no shame.
Am I she, the evil one?
The one you penned -
Under the influence of manipulation
Trying to stifle my voice of beauty
No matter, I am crazy, a dreamer
Never claim to be THE INNOCENT,
The Poet Destroyer!!!
I ignore the walls when they speak
Nevertheless, tonight they have eyes
They watch my every move
A trotters dance, of togetherness
Forgetting the reason we are here
I will win and conquer my privacy
You can't destroy what you can't see
I am the glory of my day
I am God's pet!!!
A Lamb, wearing white
To others a wolf in disguise
Spitting slithers, swear
I am the Devil's Advocate
I marvel how they snort at night
Today I will crash the sore whispering party
You! My friend, no longer exist
You are naught more than cobwebs
You will dream about me, write about me
I will give you ammo, then read it from you.
I will show you what a demon is!
Like the light and envy of every moon
I shall ask my reflection and remove
the residue from hogging lips.
I will watch you urbane the truth
The heat and lust I conquer from you
A font with no reflection, dating apples
Heading away from its own advice
A hard task from its quill, enjoying leftovers
Pinpointing fingers among shallow dreams
It's sickening to see pigs pat each others back
Feeding on my demonic words
Convoying innuendos in my bearing
Now it's my turn, to turn the roaster on
With no interest in removing muddy sheets
I shall smile and walk away
In - joy - my heart beats and smiles
Knowing, I made you look --- AGAIN!!!
By: PD