whistles blare
gun powder in the air
lead pours overhead
I can't wait to feel my bed
I line up my rifle
breathe and squeeze
my orders are to strife
I run empty so I freeze
the quit nights are haunted
this conflict was unwanted
one more tally added; I can't mask it
make sure they spell it right on my casket
~ A Running Joke from Israel's
War for Independence, 1948 ~
I'm a brave soldier, I defend my land
This broom is my rifle, I guard this sand
I fight for the right to live and not die
To breathe fresh air, under clear blue skies
I'm a brave soldier, I defend my land
This broom is my rifle, I guard this san--
The bushes near me stir. Now I'm scared!
Halt! Halt, I demand! Who goes there?
FRIEND OR FOE? FRIEND OR FOE?
WHO IS IT THAT GO--
The bushes part! There goes my heart...
Out comes -- Moshe?!
OMG, Moshe, I almost shot you with my 'rifle'
Not to worry, Avi. I'm an 'armored tank'
~ Thank the good Lord I'm not homicidal!
____________________________________
Note: Israel was so short on weapons in the
War of Independence (1948-49) that soldiers
were actually using hammers, although I
don't think they ever used brooms... Beware
of 'armored tanks' now! lol.
Roy Campbell 'FLOWERING RIFLE'
¥"
_____ ____ ____===========================¥*
( _______ _ _ #)
(__(
Put the rifle back
in that shattered bag,
don't want to forget
traumas from my hell.
Geysers in my soul
only need to explode,
watch me hike tonight
on my satellites.
My heart in search of peace and love
Now finds the world’s ironic deeds.
They wage a war for peace, they rove
In streets the roaring rifle bleeds.
For God they clash, for cash they fake.
They race their life to reach nowhere.
Their schools unteach, no good they make.
‘Be loved’ they want, no love they care.
I hope, for sure, the day will come!
They start to mend their ways to peace.
They live to love, their aims affirm.
They learn to teach, ‘their tribes increase.’
You sow- you reap, you get-you give.
Be good, do good. You live, let live.
Witchcraft fruits shrivelled gorillas' brains
Wrinkled spectral charm fire scarred apportionment
Wary growl sharp lip foretell malefactor debauchery
Overcome in jungle rummage, fur maimed
Leather crevice herbivore hand final resign
Claimed by human biscuit boned, rifle of dominance
Cunning stealth shadowed charcoal fervour obvious
Conquer given, victor's triumph misaligned
1st February
Inspiration from
Eric Duthie edited ' Wild Company '
published 1962.
Story - Gorilla Hunter by Paul de Chaillu
My AK-47 will arrive sometime today.
I am horrified.
Why did you order an assault rifle?
To hunt.
To hunt what?
Deer.
I stare at her.
Wild pigs?
I glare at her.
People? She says slowly.
I wait in hiding for the package to arrive.
Snatch it off her porch and smash that Ak-47 up into tiny pieces.
It is not easy, but I have a hatchet, a machete and an iron will.
My grandma is in the throes of dementia.
I doubt her home health nurse will return
if she gets plugged in the face with an assault rifle.
I took grandma’s credit card too.
The only thing I could not get was her car keys.
She has them attached to her chastity belt with a ring.
What he did to simple Mark
With a sword
Left him with a complex mark
In a ward …
Endless cries of “Oh! My lord “
“I’ve broken somebody’s spinal cord.”
Before then, parading a rifle4
But from his Dad getting eyeful,
Who would a begged laughter stifle
As blood-letting isn’t a trifle.
Guns don't kill people
But bullets do
So keep all your guns
But make bullets taboo
Restrict cartridge sales
Like any jet flight
With proof of ID
& registered right
Limit each purchase
To registered guns
Make mothers happy
With long-living sons
Bullets kill loved ones
& people we know
So give every shooter
A tough row to hoe!
Her long, flowing, black hair
sways in the autumn breeze
silence speaks, she is silent
a lonely bullet lays in the chamber
her hands rest gingerly on the guard
her fingers snuggle the trigger
The leaves blow, the poppies bloom
and the grass stands still....
her eyes gaze and wonder....
the enemy is in her cross-hair
silent speaks....
The bullet whispers to the wind....
The Gun was gleaming
Flashing in the summer sun
Confidence of steel
The Assault Rifle Madness Continues
By Elton Camp
From Sandy Hook we are still in dismay
Then another shooter blows folks away
This time it is in western New York State
Where a murderer expressed his hate
A military-style Bushmaster did choose
Same type weapon as on kids just used
Shout “Second Amendment” all you can
On such guns there should be a total ban
This is nothing but a killing machine
Exactly as we repeatedly have seen
The killer left a note describing his thrill
At getting a chance more people to kill
It’s not just for checking of buyers I call
This type rifle shouldn’t be made at all
This wasn’t the 2nd Amendment’s intention
So the “rights” of gun owners, don’t mention
That “right” has been interpreted very wrong
Clearly, only to a “militia” does it belong
Down The Sight Of A Rifle
Looking down the sights of his rifle
He sees people he was told were his enemies
Men, women and children walking down the street
Who are real enemies?
Who are innocents living their lives?
His finger tightens on the trigger
How could he know if his shot was true?
He watches the people carefully
Hearing his orders echo through his head
The order was given a half a world away
By men sitting in a room trying to raise the body count
They don’t know the people their orders effect
They can’t look into a new mother’s eyes as she holds her baby
The trigger starts to tighten as the man obeys
The gun blasts forth a breath of flame
The bullet leaves not knowing its target
The bullet lands five miles away never tasting blood
That day a soldier decided that no one would die
No one would be in the hospital because of him
That day he would be the hero who no one knows
He knew in his heart that he cared about other people
If only more thought like him
Felt like him
War would no longer exist
No humans would die needlessly
And there would be peace
Its a piece of plastic
And a piece of steel
Holding it up has an un natural feel
It has optics fitted to magnify life
And when it fires a round causes strife
It has a magazine you cant read
But when it does its job
People become brown breed
We carry it wherever we go
All shiny and clean not just for show
Its an instrument of war
And a plague on peace
With our brave soldiers deployed all over the middle east
Iraq would be safe without the Imans
Just like Afghanistan minus the taleban
But one mans terrorist is another mans hero
Some even celebrated when the planes hit ground zero
What we need now is some new heroes
Because Blair and Bush are just a bunch of Zero's
Don't get it twisted just because my smile is nice
I signed up for the war not once but twice
When I went to Iraq I dodged death and it's stunts
but when I got home I smoked blunts and stayed drunk.
Now I can't sleep and I'm messed up in the head
I wake up having nightmares and I keep pissing the bed.
I talk in my sleep and I walk in my sleep
instead of counting the sheep I think of killing the sheep.
People tap me on the shoulder, I think I'm being attacked
So I a ball up my fist because I don't know how else to react.
I get really depressed, I never used to be this way
It's a struggle for a brotha to live day by day
Don't say you love me because you think you know me
if you got love for the troops then you better show me
I am 33 and I at least want to see 35
I don't want to be popping pills for the rest of my life.
I want to win in this game of survival
Will I live for the rose or will I die by the rifle.
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