Long High powered Poems
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Yeah, just grab an old rusty shovel, a case of Bud Light and hop in the back of my red
pickup truck, because us country boys are heading down to Sweetwater Creek to hunt for
some rare species of dictionary. Boy, don't you worry about nothing. We got plenty of
ammo. Uncle Willie, you know them dictionaries got some powerful stuff.
Yeah, they got all kinds of words that I cain't spell or spit out my mouth. Some folks
say, you can use them fancy-polished words printed in a dictionary. You boys know better.
We can't read, write or arithmetic! Boys, we need to shake a stick, saddle up and go
rustle up some wild dictionaries. To capture a wild dictionary, you need to wear
specialized Desert Storm camouflaged gear, and be very quiet!
Boys, its time for the hunting dictionary expedition!
Now, big Willie, listen to me good, when we find this critter, I am not settling for a
handshake, because I need to bust a few caps in those hind parts with my double-pump
shotgun. Boy, be quiet. Do you hear something rattling behind them bushes? Hey, look down
yonder! Oh, Nellie, I got a big surprise for that old slick Willy dictionary.
Well, I am a Southern Boy, with a background in cannon artillery and fire weaponry. I will
deliver the final blow and knockout punch with my deluxe K-Mart special, double barrel
Winchester rifle, equipped with a high-powered scope, aiming right-between-the-eyes of
the victim.
Big Willie, You know stuff is going to fly in every direction. Now, its time to grab that
slippery dictionary right by the tail, fling it straight up in the air and shake the
cobwebs loose! Just in case, we might have to tap it with a few more rounds of buckshot
from my shotgun named big Shirley. You know, just so I can let it marinade.
Man, I am so cool, when I captured this black double-breasted Oxford dictionary, I skinned
it and cleaned it and turn it into a thesaurus.
Posted By: Gregory W Golden Dated 16 Oct 2006
Twas a dark knight,
whence there came a pawn the hushed crowded movie house
A phantom of horror sprung out of the rookery that wrought deadly havoc
Renting asunder innocent audience members
Anticipating Batman annihilate evil within Manichean eternal duel
Extant within imaginary world of Gotham portrayed on the silver screen
When out of the black curtained theater tear gas canisters got hurled pell mell
Accompanied by a fusillade of heavy machine gun fire
Sheering many lives
Many in the prime ascent sans parabola of adulthood
The youngest, a six-year-old girl transformed into an ashen colored corpse
Which death yet revealed to her young mother
Critically wounded, and clamoring for said daughter
While teetering on the brink of mortality
Oblivious to stricken offspring
While family, friends, relatives and anonymous prayers
And this heartfelt genuine communiqué
From me – a self styled nonestablishmentarian
Gung-ho to invoke a mandate that high powered fire-arms
Must be much less accessible
I.e. bulletproof laws need implementation pronto
So inhabitants of these United States do not fear for their lives
Nor feel akin to a potential prey sighted in the crosshairs
Wantonly gunned down from some grinning joker
Slaking glee from mass killing as to appease unquenchable thirst
To avenge some psychotic nemesis gloating to slay
With a vengeance and contrived vendetta
Promulgating pandemonium and grisly bloody aftermath
Yet despite such horrific heinous atrocity
Bravery and sacrifice witnessed and extolled
From heroic instinctual motive to offer themselves as human shield
So that carnage less devastating than toll on madman’s hit list
Now in solitary confinement and even if executed
Would be a Pyrrhic salve to those forever deprived of loved ones
Burning with an eternal sorrow no matter
Generosity of cyber sympathizers across World Wide Web
Plus the president of these United States
Reach out showering kindness analogous to Borealis raiment!
Form:
After a long drought, it started to rain.
Breaking the spell on the parched plain
Rainfall fell steadily at the begin.
Quenching the land and everything within.
Many hours later of continuous rain
Torrents of water swallowed the arid terrain.
Debris and buildings quickly swept through
People and animals lost their lives too.
Hearing her screams over the roar of the thunder.
A child swept by the current but kept going under.
He was the first to step into the murky water.
Against all the odds began swimming towards her.
The water was fierce, angry and raging.
Not thinking twice about the risk, he was taking.
With God by his side and his adrenalin high
To save this child's life, he knew he could die.
Battling against high-powered energy source
Pieces of debris kept knocking him off course
Mouthfuls of grimy water began filling his lungs.
Spluttering and fighting determined not to succumb.
He thought he was near, but she was not there.
At that moment he was filled with fear and despair.
Suddenly she appeared, as if God raised his hand.
Quickly he grabbed her and swam back to safe land.
His name he never gave or ever did mention
He quietly left not wanting any attention.
Tales of a hero who stepped into rapid murky water
Whose bravery saved the life of someone's young daughter.
Written 25.07.22
One in Five 2 Poetry Contest
Phrase Number 1 He was the first to step into the murky water
Sponser Joseph May
Cosmos magician, gorgeous nebula of rainbow colors.
My eyes are dazzled, by her unbelievable beauty.
Honored, I revere her magnificence, as I peek into the telescope.
Seeing this nebula move not at all, though I know she is.
Cosmos magician, gorgeous nebula of rainbow colors.
An interstellar beginning or a super nova end?
No way to tell. Like humans, stars begin and end the same way.
Delighting the high-powered telescope in the planetarium.
Cosmos magician, gorgeous nebula of rainbow colors.
I take another peek, holding my breath, amazed at her beauty.
Fantastic colors of this nebula delight and entice imagination
I hope she is at the beginning of her life cycle.
Cosmos magician, gorgeous nebula of rainbow colors.
Dust, hydrogen and helium, swirling interstellar galactically.
Twisting and turning in a fog with other ionized gases
No matter her journey, I marvel at her optimism, and her grace.
Early in life worthlessness prevailed employ
ying gnawing, infecting thought processes
did more than annoy
rooted, short circuited, and tasered
flickr happiness lived
spontaneous bobbing sponging buoy
clinging to mother's
apron string series
of unfortunate events
conspired to destroy
that extremely introverted
shy locked lad, and somewhat coy
no matter bred from Jewish stock,
his existence he did not enjoy
he knew no more of Semitic heritage,
and for all intents and purposes,
said life devoid of joy,
now late in his life shill
still coon sitter himself a goy.
This corporeal body orbited sun
at woof lee light warp speed,
no mortal can outrun
decades spun ever
faster than speeding bullet
from most high powered gun
or analogous to none
other than miniature whirling dervish
gyroscopic combination dreidel won
dress lee resembling
dicey snake eyes on fire all fun
and games by expert
watergate burglar nixon
argh...burned his legacy
Gerald ford did pardon
can of worms best not open
infamous administration
equally as full of shame
as Trump shenanigans,
he need put in place
rather than blame,
thus someone must tame
perhaps yours truly - not as lame
as presumed, unless ye might be game
eldest sister of mine suggested to aim
site as political activist bandwagon and
thus ineluctably claim
feeling glad to right Dame
Liberty, now a mockery, I exclaim
where land of milk and honey
necessitates more apropos name
oh...of course a
suitable avatar and meme!
Dedicated to the Officers and crew of
USS Columbia (SSN 771)
Goodbye Sun
We are welcomed by men in
immaculate whites
Through a hatch
we descend a steep ladder
into "The Last Slider"
From a narrow corridor we enter
into the brain and nerves
of this vessel-
To my untrained eye the confusion
of cables overhead is bewildering
This black ship of stealth
tracks the world outside,
silently invisible itself
Rows of monitors, sonar devices
high powered periscopes
all with a myriad of buttons to push-
A marvel of technology -
yet men are the heart and soul
of this great ship
They are Submariners
They say goodbye to the sun
for months on end
Week after harrowing week they spend
day after day on grinding drills
where the only thrill is their daily meals
Systematic, methodical
They are human- in a ship of war
but a ship that exists for freedom
The Officers guide us through each section
The ship at rest has released them
from an endless commitment but
with a practiced eye
they are still attuned to every detail
Commanders almost prescient
so in step with every procedure
they can sense malfunction in their sleep
I notice the commitment to excellence
I note the pride behind the
preparations for our inspection
Blue curtains with the ships insignia
are drawn on bunk beds
Shiny copper engine parts, clean bright paint
reflects the values of those who
keep their vessel, ship-shape
Now I stand in the nose where the
weapons rest
The metal tubes look benign
for all the power they contain
Ironically in rows, directly above,
the crew's bunks are located-
in tiers of three -even sleep
is regimented
Photos of family are the only
human touch in
this dark, black, whale
of a vessel
The sense of duty for each individual
seems overwhelming
There is a spirit of complete trust
between them
This is a world for honorable men
"Victory is Silence"
I try to imagine daily living
the self-containment
the steely discipline
the choosing to go forward in the face of
uncertainty
Precision and man - morphing
The pact between Submariners is
absolute.
They move as one.
BRIAN'S CHOICE K,any form,any theme
Contest Judged: 5/19/2020 12:08:00 AM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
3rd Place
On Africa's Great Plains the animals roam free
And you can see them close up when on safari
Rhino, elephant, giraffe and gazelle
Lions, hippos and monkeys as well.
But they're all in danger from a predator called man
Who goes out his way to kill as many as he can
From a mile away under the African sun
He shoots them dead with a high powered gun.
Big business to some, there is money to be made
One that springs to mind is the ivory trade
Some people will pay handsomely
To have piano keys made out of ivory.
Some cultures believe horns hold some kind of magic
But that's medieval thinking and so very tragic
It's upsetting to see these great creatures fall
Just so the rich can display their horns on a wall.
Their young are left orphaned to struggle and die
So very upsetting it would make you cry
And the King of beasts are considered a trophy
Are tracked down and hunted mercilessly.
Some species of these animals are dwindling fast
And if the slaughter continues they will not last
Sometime in the future, don't bother to look
The only place you'll find them will be in a book.
But you can help to end this cruel trade
Before you buy goods, check how they are made
If they contain animal parts then do walk away
Together we can ensure that this vile trade doesn't pay.
Written 19 January 2018.
The hunter set off just before the gloaming
adjusting the straps of his high powered rifle
it was a long way to where the stag usually fed
a majestic stag sprouting twelve point antlers
Climbing high up the rugged mountain side
he trekked fast covering the many miles
at last he was where the stag usually fed
casting around for signs of his tracks
Finding them he started stalking his prey
up hill and down dale he carefully followed
until at last he could see him way up ahead
taking care to keep down wind he got close
Now about one hundred yards apart, he settled
nestling into the thick bracken patiently waiting
The stag climbed onto his favourite outlook
and stood there poised as the gloaming lit the sky
Truly a wondrous sight he was in full prime
the hunter sighed as he took steady aim
then with a click it was finally time to shoot
the stag hearing the sound took to his heels
The hunted checked his camera, yes he had him
a perfect picture well satisfied he packed up
this one picture had taken days of trailing him
now he was forever captured in magnificent splendour
A stare across the grassy fields revealed.
Covered with frost, they lay quiet and still.
Their position clearly had a restful feel,
One which will leave them in decline until
Next Spring when they break from their clods.
Few but farmers will notice their weeping sods.
Another look across the horizon did not conceal,
But rather had an arrested scene with the power to heal.
Upon further gaze, there was a tree-lined face,
Laced in a pattern of awesomeness, beauty, and grace.
Nature's way is imposing as she unfolds her art to us,
But she's always advancing in motion, never posing for us.
So, with these words, I capture her mesmerizing display.
If I do nothing else, I will treasure this heavenly scene today.
The moment is ever swift of feet and shall never return.
Embraced by her loveliness, I boarded her fleeting scene.
The skies are blue with high-flying clouds, peaceful and far.
And the sunrise blasts from afar like a high-powered star.
Like cloud patterns, such views never come to stay.
But today, it's Christmas, and they're shouting, "HEY"!
647AM122522PS
I'm not running races but like most people, I'm going places. I've been gone too long; so I'm coming home from many places. I go away for a while, and then I roam; but I always come back home. I don't take heavy loads of unnecessary cloths when I hit the road. No, it's just me, a small suit case and a back pack, cause I travel light.
I drive a fast car with a big V 8 engine, and take nothing to slow me down.* Those big tires and high powered engine making a fuss are heavy enough.
From the Pacific, it's terrific across the Rockies to the big mid western city. From Chicago to the Big Apple in the summer time, I'm travelling fast and light. My fast driving is within the limits of the law, because I respect the highway rules.
I like going to and coming from places, but I don't like planes, and trains are too slow. My car is old and bold, and when it's time to go, it never folds on me if we travel light.
From New York City in broad day light, to the bottom of New Orleans at the Gulf of Mexico; I then head west back toward the Pacific where the eagles build their nest and the sun always sets. For me, west is best because home is there; and home is where we find the sweetest rest.
There's a story about you and me that only we can write. Part of that story is the light that God shines on us, and no one feels that light shinning on us more than us. Home is where our story begins, and no matter where we've been, home is where our story ends. So travel heavy or travel light, near or far, by plane or by train, by bus or by car, you'll see like me, there's no place like home. Home is always there waiting for me; and no matter how long I'm been gone or how far I may have roamed, I can always count on home.
09192017 PS Contest, Travelling Light, K.M. Neumann
*Fiction