Short Pistols Poems
Short Pistols Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Pistols by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Pistols by length and keyword.
a
partly
cloudy sky
hovers above
spaghetti western
invokes echo chamber
of Ennio Morricone
I fancy horseback through prairies
pistols hidden beneath old ponchos
a fistful of dollars to the victor
There's plenty of goodness out there
, but it's been fanged by the puff adder DJS.
Goodness is slowly dying on media vines.
Behind boarded-up windows and riot fire.
With pistols and rosaries at the ready.
Awaiting the fires of salvation.
As Jimmy rode his broomstick pony
I'm Roy Rogers he would yell
With silver pistols at the ready
He was the good guy you could tell
No horse theif dared to face him
As he galloped across the kitchen floor
Roy Rogers is my hero
Even if he's ony four
Magazine ads and newspaper obituaries
skitter across the streets
like tumbleweed in the desert.
Rims the size of carriage wheels roll by.
Everyone's holsters are filled,
even the children carry pistols.
The schools are ghost towns
but the saloons stay occupied.
This is the Wild, Wild West.
pistols at dawn
one will live
the other will die
both of them, I am
so watch from above
inanity and insanity
I conjured in dreams
the die is cast
I enact both roles
by bilocating consciousness
nonchalant to outcomes
holding onto a secret hope
of divine intervention
that love may triumph
thought we wanted big but seen it better...
a beautiful picture painted by the prince of weather dropping fear the day I drop a
tear is often hated more and more by the ones who say its forced
you a fake thought, dropping emotion the cost of lotion gripping ends of pistols better where it left was in the door
He was driving down Cocaine Boulevard he had killers in the car
He drove with a blank stare as the killers put their clips in their
pistols
His soul was the color red stained with blood from all the murders
he had ordered and committed
The car came to stop he pointed at a white house
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Rancid lilies stream the rim
of wicker baskets
like wilted soldiers rank and file
Fatigued and sweaty
They salute a mournful throng
with dampened pistols
and burnished brass.
Hate every passion screaming
for a drink of water
in the searing heat of attention.
Stack their arms and fall
in blessed oblivion.
Australia last year donated guns..Held by the goverment
Just token in the sum..Even pistols anything you can
Think..While its own citizens can't even clink.' The bolt
In a barrel withougt jumping through many hoops.' Strange
Times, strange laws.. What do you think.?? And all those
Guns were sent to Ukraine? Its like pouring fuel on a fire
To me thats so plain.'
Bravery
Is not by fists
Raging swords
Pulsating pistols
It is in the execution
Of one's belief
Without sound knowledge
Of outside relief
It snarls, trouncing
Any intent of vain
Corruption
That begs to be doused
By hammer and sickle
Not the hardware kind
But the force
Of passionate mind
That tells the truth
Preserved eternally
Lacquered in
Virtuous lament.
(9/18/04)
She wears her finest star-shaped suit,
glittering in sunlight, she’s a charmer.
Impassioned floral, blushing pink and true
a lily of finest ancestral markers,
never graced a garden with such elegance.
Hera’s child, gushed forth from the breast,
sacred floral preeminent
puts Venus’s jealousy to strictest test.
With longer pistols than the white,
she's the brightest lily delight!
As far back as I can remember
A cowboy I wanted to be
But apparently I’m not a club member
For I’m a she and not a he
So I settled for being a cowgirl
Clad in my Dale Evans suit
‘Neath a cowboy hat I hid each curl
Hoping cowboys wouldn’t shoot
But they drew their pistols anyway
Laughing with great frivolity
And now that I’m older, I must say
Women still fight for equality
Written April 29, 2014
I’ve watched enough Star Trek
To know that you weirdos
Need to take me to your leader
Captain Kirk would not negotiate
With such rumbustious riff raff
You’re trying my patience
I’ll continue to be polite with you
But don’t push your luck
Now take me to your leader
And get those silly water pistols
Out of my face
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on July 28, 2018 for contest TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER sponsored by CAREN KRUTSINGER - RANKED 4TH
Root’n Tootn’ Snoot’n Groot’n Blue’tn cowboys came to town.
Firing pistols with one shot inside, outside, up and down.
What can I do the tiniest cowboy cat asked his mother.
Help guard the strawberries with your no-good brother.
Brother went out to try to talk the cowboys out of their mean.
He’s the bravest cat cowboy this town had ever seen.
Maybe he is full of goodness after all, said the cats’ mother.
Tiniest cowboy cat was proud of his find-their-goodness brother.
Her hands hovered over the pistols on her hips
The Apocalypse
Grantor of one-way trips
Bestower of the scarlet mist
Salvation Is, Salvation does
She is Why, How, and Just because
She is Attrition, She is Abolition
A chick on a mission
A ticket to perdition
She is death in remission
Her hands settled on the grips
Which glowed bright red
Pulsating in rhythm with her breath
Remember this she said
Life is a privilege
You earn the right to exist
I will not fight thee
with swords
I will not fight thee
with pistols
I will though challenge
with my deep imbedded
passion
you will not defeat me
with your violence
Tis my words of wisdom
that will lead you beyond
in deafening silence...
whence your spirit
may return a voice of reason...
...a spirit of love for all
seasons...
the world may listen
once more to your
heart...
your words fall on deaf
ears until then...
we hear you not
near or far