Stockpiles Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Premium Member Hellhounds on Our Trail

Nations split the atom
Unleashing impending doom
China stockpiles munitions 
London rings europe's bell
Europe prepares for the inevitable carnage
America plants silos in the midwest
Russian bells are tolling
Kremlin halls are glowing 
Nuclear war can be won
Under the right conditions 
Contrary to what peace geeks think
Knights of freedom must rise
Let loose the lightning
Echo the shattering thunder
Holocausts and hellhounds
Embers will reign
Ash will choke the skies
Dust is but our destiny
Send them all straight to hell

Premium Member Pro

Stockpiles proportionate divisions
Physical mental health
Making choice decisions

Life issues stealth
Recommendations carefully heeded
Maintain ideal wealth

Necessities well exceeded
Organized required supervisions
Achieved goals succeeded

Snippet

#Require a Non-Dictatorial...
            (A New World Order-'Spoiler'.)
   #Require Tutorial on The Constitution, on file.
   #Require Anecdotal circumstancial, financial 
            "disclosure" ( ) portfolio.fraud.crossing_wires;
   #Fire, them All, if then, placehold a trial 
          and cornholio a pineapple un-cut. 4x4 Family/Animal.style. {}
     In our Political/Educational/Media/ and Health-Care- 
          (Executor/Collaborators)-: Institutions of liars ! []
              We need access to our own information, in 
                                       stockpiles.
                                      While "We..."
            Stand free and tall, Absolution, takes the desire, 
                             as does prosecution ! 
!IMPORTANT! Reconcile.
  Hashtag_Militia, reflexadigitation ! 
    Replace Apathy with the integrity to inspire 
      others under their persecution !
         Take back our Nation !
                          
                                *(Revolution !)*


Premium Member European Reprise

Ze French, they are haughty
    Kremlinites, vulgar, crude
  Le artiste charcoal sketches
    in the unvarnished nude  

  Brits keep a stiff upper lip
    Pointy-shoed Italians think they are hip
  Ukrainians fight like the dickens
    their stockpiles reduced to slim pickens

Storm-Bearers

Being a frontline health careworker
has us all consumed with fear
A nursing home filled with the elderly could 
become a catastrophic atmosphere

If the Coronavirus enters their home
it would be almost impossible to curtail
Most have underlying health conditions
and are very vulnerable and frail

In trepidation we work day after day 
In disquietude but with hopeful smiles
That none of us are Covid -19 carrier's
as uncertainty and stress stockpiles 

Still we laugh and joke and try to keep
our wits and spirits high 
Even though this impending world crisis 
make us all want to cry

Understaffed and overworked will soon 
become our new norm
May angels watch over all of us as we weather 
this unexpected storm

We vow to stay upbeat and positive
to take each day in stride 
We will continue our loving ways with the 
upmost compassion and pride

April 1, 2020

Who Matters

Who Matters?

Black lives matter or police lives matter
Which do you choose?
The former, the latter?
You pick one and you’re right
Or you pick the other and you’re wrong
Some people will hate you and some will think you are strong.
Is hate now a part of the human condition?
There seems to be this mass mission 
To start a whole new inquisition 
Where each side stockpiles ammunition 
Against the other.

Black lives matter or police lives matter
Which do you choose?
The former, the latter?
In your decision you are condemned 
Or you are praised
No matter what you decide, you won’t be left unscathed
Both sides must no longer discriminate
This is something we must eliminate
So we can properly communicate 
And find a way to relate
In order for all to recover.

Black lives matter or police lives matter 
Which do you choose?
The former, the latter?
This hatred must stop
Or our wounds will never heal
Please listen to me for this is my appeal.
We need to stop taking sides
Because it is only creating a divide
When we should come together and unify
For we are all sisters and brothers.

Black lives matter or police lives matter
Which do you choose?


Premium Member Signs of the Times

Prozac Nation, dated September 8th, 2001
became the film that reminded some that
these days that we live in, with cell phones
that make us capable of connecting in a flash
mean we've broken our pencils and torn up
our stationary where letters once were dashed
off of the tops of our heads and sent on
with sentiments read by bifocaled heads 
of grandparents who would soon be dead
yet were there for the time, there to remind us
why we're alive and we're living in a time
of Prozac and Ambian and some form of Xanax
We've become a people dependent on our drugs
where we once depended on our minds, our hearts,
the souls that sought out Jesus instead of 
the cluttered cabinets of painkillers and anti-depressants,
everything that seems to replace the true person
with a desensitized, artificial, contrived individual
only surviving the times with stockpiles of prescriptions

Chopped Updated - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish

Premium Member Obama Is Really Darth Sidious

Guns are being seized.
Government stockpiles ammo.
Insurrection soon?!

Mark Halliday

In My World

If the day ever came, when I ruled the world
I’d think democracy had gone mad
Cos the world would be in a sorry state
If for a ruler, I was all it had
But I’d give it my best, and put to the test
There are a few things I would do
To put the world right, with all of my might
And here are but a few;
I’d make everyman free
Wipe-out poverty
By spreading around the world’s wealth
Medical care
Would be free everywhere
So every person could access good health,
I’d insist that each nation
Had good education
To enable them all to progress
And prison time served
For despots with the nerve
To hold their people under duress,
I’d share out all the worlds’ stockpiles of food
As I think no-one, should every go hungry
For this is just a small glimpse of the world
If the day came, it was ruled by me.

Falluja

Through the graceful cones of your loud speakers,
Prayers go out to Alla al Akhbar.
And like a flag waving in a prophetic breeze,
You are a blindfolded hostage weeping on your knees.
In your fair root neighborhood of Shudada,
Stryker vehicles crackle past your ancient walls,
As tanks smash through deserted homes. 
And the endless stockpiles of artillery shells,		     
The mortar rounds, rocket-propelled grenades, 
Electronics for making bombs, were simply small caches,
Left by nomadic insurgents, cells long slipped away.
But you, sweet holy city of Falluja, you will live on,
For when the foreign snipers on your roofs are gone,
You will live on as the city of mosques, city of graves.

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