looking inside becomes a weighty endeavor
peeping outside is in no way better
hypomania, baby what a blast that phase is
going 100 miles an hour with no seat belt or helmet
giving in to the whims of the moment the universe is
beyond colorful. how do u explain the crash of the century..breaking bones inside the minds finding clarity; in nothing particular but flying by to find the mind is gone haywire.
If you were born a son of a gun
Life for you would not be fun
Because you'll never know your Dad
Or who was he if you had?
He could have been anyone.
You poor bastard Son of a Gun!
When I let one loose in the elevator
I felt like a fart battling, a mitigator
he said, "you couldn't hold it until later?"
I said, "it just ran away, what a traitor!"
when I got to my desk, I fanned it out
while all the workers changed their rout
I cried " son of a gun I got bum gout!"
and suddenly, they all began to shout.
July 31, 2021
Do not blame the bearer of the bad news –
A gun doesn’t kill by itself or a knife,
Nor a video game or hostile views;
An evil act is but wrought by a mind’s strife.
You may foster a sapling or stunt its growth
and see it’ll be a vine or an oak tree;
like the mind of a child as he grows forth –
Will he be vile or live a life stress-free?
There are spiritual laws that govern with
the same certainty as the physical laws,
Faith, trust in God, and Love are not ancient myth
But values that shape the character sans flaws.
Like putty, wax, dough, or a lump of clay
Mold the child right lest another soul he slay.
~Contest: Guns
~Anthony Biaanco
Apt 4
Black Door
Next Door neighbors moved out
Week before last
Citing strange noises
Rotten stench and an unruly pet
And the fact they had never seen , spoken nor met
Human nature is to speculate
But why waste the energy and time
No foul,
No crime
Until the door is kicked in
And the body's are found
Lying face down
As the children are taken into protective custody
Just another tale gone bad
Swapping Apt 4 in Trailer Park Suburbia
For Cell No 4
And a Heroin Needle
For 1 Final
Lethal Injection
The End
Amen
There once was a brave son of a gun
Who would pull his own trigger for fun
He saw a school shooter
Whom he shot and neutered --
That brave son's gun sure got the job done!
I’ve never been to war
or claimed the old kings shilling.
Though born and bred to Army life
I knew the need for killing.
The civi’ kids thought those like me,
were gypsies in their town,
but quickly found how hard it was
to try to knock us down.
The discipline we had at home
meant nothing could compare,
we learn to duck and dive a bit
when trouble’s in the air.
Never caught, escape, evade,
let others take the blame,
the lesson learned by everyone
who played our army game.
Some say it’s tough to move about
stability unsure.
But you learn to make a killing
before others know its war!
Security and stable home
deprives one of the fun
of knowing when to stand and fight
or choose the time to run.
It doesn’t show to look at us,
……our natures hid away,
but lessons learned in growing up
forever with us stay.
An Army brat, who knew the way
to win by any means.
Be careful all civilians sprogs
things aren’t like what it seems…………..
Ivor G Davies
Son Of A Gun
My Great Great Grandpa was a musket
only one son he would want.
My Great Great Grandma named him shotgun
he used to love to hunt.
He too would only want one son
and that's just what he got.
My Great Grandma named him rifle
he was a single shot.
Married with one son himself
Grandpa wouldn't take no static.
His son was highly favored
and they named him automatic.
Along then came my daddy
who I never gave no lip.
He lived inside a holster
that men wore on their hip.
He had a great big family
but I'm his favorite one.
My daddy was a pistol
I'm a son of a son of a son of a gun.
Edwin C Hofert
I am fire cooked in the belly of a barrel
An inferno like a messenger of death from hell
Somersaulting like a ninja assassin wilding his sword unsheathed
With double edged precision and ill intent unleashed
In my clear trajectory I target any would be shot stopper
I spit fatality and finality, I am the showstopper
There lies power in the pull of a trigger
An on/off switch of life at the tip of a finger
I entre the air with a loud Bang!
I express death like a bulletin
Collide and split air molecules with gun powder
15 calibre to penetrate fragile body armour
I shoot off my mouth like a machine gun
Two syllables, death by numbers, one by one
I recoil on my words like a liar, then silence
Steal lives and leave behind bullet clips
I laugh at your gun laws
I am the Lord of all wars
Even Honest Abe Lincoln admitted himself that he wasn't all that pretty,
But you'll be hard-pressed to find a president who was more witty!
During debates, Stephen Douglas called him a two-faced son-of-a-gun.
Lincoln replied, "If I had another face, do you think I would wear this one?"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
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