Short Point Blank Poems

Aim for the temple
No beating around the bush
Be direct coward...

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There is really no such thing as being intellectual. There is only knowing what one is talking about or not....

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Today's Bio
Point blank
Sorry for letting you down.
I have a major case of writers block.
I could not even pull off a simple collab.
You guys and gals are lucky.
I have no inspiration. 

:(
SKAT...

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Unnerving news, it lit the fuse,
And at "point-blank" range, I was shot
But then we found ourselves amused-
That you were dead and I was not!

*This is a silly piece, just written at the time, I suppose, for the sake of irony...

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Point Blank

Standing staring at a blank wall
No joy
No sorrow
No anger 
Nothing, only
A pile of lost 
Dreams and expectations
Shot point blank
Dead and decaying
Looking but finding 
Only cold comfort
In the cold wind....

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Games Games Games
I prefer sports to life
Your so nice to my face	
Negative tongues once I say “bye”
All the words, offers, actions were fake
Found out when you ignore me point blank
I could lie and say I don't care
Misfit for life
All you'll do is stare...

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I clearly make a random word
And always make it loudly heard
I hate it when it's there point blank ahead
I try and rhyme it in my head
I think a lot i think so hard
Till my words are on to card
Paper, walls i'm not sure
I just know i'm true hardcore!...

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It was a fake time,
moon will not rise.

Words were afloat 
on junk dna.

A stonefaced pseudonym
dies point-blank.

The surprise, the speed
was not on our radar.

The ravenous siblings
now asleep on walls.

Naive or disingenuous.
A sitting Buddha will decide.



Satish Verma...

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I sit with my grandfather
I see him eaten up by years
without mercy flesh is gone
bones complain as he moves
tongue is tired of speech
fingers dance with anger
but the years continue to  eat
my grandfather’s body
No rescue, no escape is for him,
years assure me point blank....

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A car ran
thru the city
so fast
without caution
that doom was point blank
the car spun
around
ground attack
flipping
on its back
hurling sparks
that lit a bomb off
throngs of victims at loss
a
villain drank too much 

12/31/22

Lipogram Poetry Contest

Sponsor-Emile Pinet...

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You're the only one I have
The life within my life
Maturity sits at point blank range
Tiring so easily

This business of growing up
Set in concrete
No escaping nature's water
No matter the plea it makes me grow

I want to stay 
Safe in the ground
Nurtured and fed
Whatever is out there


I really don't want to know!!!...

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 “The point blank of our firelocks,when attention
is paid to the loading, is known to be about 300 yards” 

      Lewis Lochee  Elements of Field Fortification
         
  
            examine each word
within musket-shot of shore
   point-blank as you aim
   over the placid waters
aim for sweet spot not the throat


11/18/2019...

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His point-blank, most promising laurel lost
Long, long his e'er-lasting longing lingers
His muse becomes bedridden under freezy frost 
Yet his nikhedonic mindscape ne'er malingers
Surging from mood's winters and merging its splinters
Ramrodding illusion-edified effulgences into his emulous edacity
Without knowing whether with reluctance or with alacrity...

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My brain
Wiggle, squirm, pulse
It writhes in pain
My brain
I can’t seem to grasp day to day
What caused me to be like this
Why do I think	
Feel this way
My brain
How can I put it point blank
Pull the trigger
I still missed
Damnit
My brain
I tide the rope
But it broke
Is this a joke
Because my brain
How much can it take
When will I slip away
Far into the abyss
Me and my brain...

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A blacksmith exploded a missile 
at  point-blank
to lower the animal
in a candid manner.
So close that truth went brute.

Nativity of a patriarch
was challenged.
The birds had migrated a long distance
to find the water.
The doors remained unlocked. 

An apology for the flesh. Bones 
had exited long back. Sermon
was writ large on the face of moon.
Night was very black.
Aphonia was the word.




Satish Verma...

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The war game begins.
You hide the sex behind
the hedge. The power

has gone for sale. Bury 
your face in colloquies
for an internal search.

A native pain invades the
mannequins. The fine dust
of lies covers the nudity.

Do you need a war stimulant
to dehumanize the killer ? He
dragged the kid by hair and

shot point-blank. The saliva
uncoils. You start spitting
everywhere and on the face of god.


Satish Verma...

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I think the Lord is trying to kill me & only true depressed people can feel me, the energy in my spirit is getting to strong for my body it's like point blank from a AA-12 shotty 
Some days I feel like evolving but I have Cobi & that would be a problem with no solving, some days I feel trapped in the trap with no strap no map just a wealth gap no cap , I'd rather go to jail for trying to provide for my child than for child support that would be wild...

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Broken hearted I sit in silence,
Our love ended in deadly violence.

Gun cocked trigger pulled at point blank range,
Finally engulfed by the rage in her veins,
She had no remorse for the life she just took,
Crime of passion they called it she's off the hook.

Unable to tell the world the truth,
How I begged her not to shoot,
Hard to speak from beyond the grave,
Nothing I can do will ever change.

My final words were I love you babe,
In my mind the night replays.

~DM2~...

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Kids were playing outside, in the playground.
Swing, slide, sandbox and Mary-go-round.

One was sitting inside, with bottle in one hand.
Thought of things that will never be comprehended.
Paper notes on the table, sketches of ideas.
Scrambled, messy, illogical, the Arcadia.
Revolver in the other hand, with bullets that wisely shine.
Shot was fired, point blank range, never miss.

Kids were still playing outside, in the playground.
Played, played, played, as death never be found....

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Massacre at Houla.

She was no more than 10 years of age.
He could have been a grandfather.

Young, old, women, girls, men, boys.

108 lives.

Now they are buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.

Killed by knives,
shot at point-blank range,
slaughtered, mowed-down.

108 lives.

Snuffed-out. Decimated. Taken-out.

108 lives.

As Damascus lies blatantly,
spewing forth untruth,
108 warm, dead bodies,
remain buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.

108 lives....

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