Short Platoon Poems
Short Platoon Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Platoon by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Platoon by length and keyword.
Cartoon platoon
funny bunny
Jelly belly
Treating eating
Bacon carrots?
12/3/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©
Lulled by the lazy lagoon
Memories carved at the beach
Fated familial platoon
Lulled by the lazy lagoon
Gator snatched the toddler of June
Dad could not transcend the breach
Lulled by the lazy lagoon
Memories carved at the beach/center>
At 3 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon
In the month of June Mr. Cartoon
was heard singing along attune
At the neighborhood saloon
swooning to a swinging bassoon
harmonizing along with the platoon
from Camp Lejeune
all day and all night they crooned
first under the sun and then the moon.
Take the “Coward” from this place
Another boy goes to waste
Tie him to a well fixed post
I suppose his mother loved him most
Recruit a squad from his platoon
Home for Christmas, boom, boom, boom
Not to wound, aim to kill
With his pals just until
SHOT AT DAWN
The boy lays still
You may never know
Why that recruiter never had a job
Not for him, not for me.
He was a wide-eyed blue
And end of a story plot
As we need bodies in open ended doors
Barefooted writers and bold writers too.
Where you may never know the next platoon
Bermuda triangle or a mere emotional trap, in a day light saving zone !
There once was a private named Moon.
He was taller than most in his platoon.
Some said he was a kind hearted goon.
His problem was a drill sergeant named Wreds.
Because Moon was taller than Wreds by two heads.
It’s very difficult to take a scolding seriously
When the sergeant’s head meets you mysteriously
In your neverlands
Frag. Order:
Advance to contact with the enemy.
Pin him with fire, then probe his flanks.
Hold one platoon in reserve to exploit success,
Or to cover a withdrawal if necessary.
After Action Report:
Half a league, half a league, half a league nowhere…
Sustained heavy casualties …
Intelligence reports…
Dear John, I’m sorry, but…
This morning,
I woke,
eyes crescent mooned.
In the kitchen,
I found a platoon,
army crawling between
pepperoni and assorted
veggies, gathering intel
for the commanding officer.
My tweezers clinched
between thorax and abdomen,
strapped him down by the neck.
It took three milliliters
from the syringe to
drown his insides.
His dog tags
read:
Red Aunt
COPLA 65 INVOCATION: This Bad Guy World
Humans refuse humanity
Humans love nationality:
No better friend
“Platoon” lives’ anonymity
Rips masks off hypocrisy:
Souls inner fiend
You who made the World go around
Sharpened the sick souls’ will to kill:
In Your own name
Such killings as with hatred bound
More lives we produce in lustful thrill:
Forfeit Your claim
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
A generation gone too soon, each tank, batallion or platoon;
They went with glory on their mind, and left the ones they loved behind;
A slaughter on a massive scale, at Flanders, Ypres and Passchendaele;
They marched into the fiercest fights, to defend their countries and protect our rights;
Still formed in rows as on parade, their ranks are now formed up in graves;
In Belgium, Holland and in France, salute them for rememberance.
nested questioned
purchasing the opinion
of learning theology, profession!!
that i may decieve thy goodies
believe my suppper platoon, obligations
if capable of escape hatch plan with ^
find science method of acting, ahh gold please
greatest gratuities and salute
many drunk prostitutions for the husbandry laws
various diplomatic african anglo appointments
satire? still not confident in job mask
next trimester suppresion clinique
Since the scarlet moon
Talking to moon and stars
I laid my whole night
Wishing to hide the scars
In the piece of sparkling light
Weaving dreams all those days
Sewing my life apart
Sitting again on the bay
Awaiting to row the cart
Since the scarlet moon
I wished to live again
Reviving winks of platoon
When we sang a refrain
Unable to walk all alone
With the darkness hid inside
Wish to engrave onto stone
As no one to sit beside.
Since the scarlet moon
Talking to moon and stars
I laid my whole night
Wishing to hide the scars
In the piece of sparkling light
Weaving dreams all those days
Sewing my life apart
Sitting again on the bay
Awaiting to row the cart
Since the scarlet moon
I wished to live again
Reviving winks of platoon
When we sang a refrain
Unable to walk all alone
With the darkness hid inside
Wish to engrave onto stone
As no one to sit beside.
The princess inlist
In the army academy
She's very friendly with her companions
She's a young woman with a very
Beautiful smile, a hug to her
This atmosphere of camaraderie
And making good friends is good to her
It's her naturalness that captures
The hearts of the Spaniards
She's so sweet with her army friends
She gets along with her platoon
I think Spain will have a beautiful queen, kind
Intelligent, funny, with elegance and with charisma.