Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Torin Nov 2015
I wish I carried peace around
Not a piece
But sometimes I feel
I need the fire power
Dawn of Lighten Nov 2015
Truth is the trigger, and it's scent of the pure gun powder.
Guns hired, shots fired, crossed fired, everything hey wired.
Rippling of bullets, Trail of ****** rounds, Tracer rounds, all rebounds.

Faltering skies, Blistering eyes, all those lies, bullets fly!
Like sharp blade, taking turns to trade, those bullets raid.
Smoke in the barrel, those sweet gun carol, music of bangs vector zero.

reigning bullets, covered in red, shots on the head.
Spinning around, dazed and confused, all but train wrecks.
Street lights blur, speaking in slur, losing mind without a cure.

Love with the gun, all came close to none, and ready for the fun.
Squeeze to aim true, and everything blew, all those bullets flew.
Purity in those bullets, truth in the trigger, faith in the gun.

Those bullets in the dark, lighten by the spark, stray bullets embark.
Dripping of red, streaks of red, all those people dead.
Judge not the bullet, not the gun, but the man pulling the trigger!
Play the music in YouTube Bullet by archive and read!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=V6nbFZtxAL4
Rah-Rah Nov 2015
I pick up a pen.
                           ...or is it a gun?
and write about zen.
The world is all but one.

I pick up my pen.
                               ...or is it my gun?
I will find it soon then,
the war is all but won.

I pick up a pen.
                           ...or is it a gun?
I write about Jen and,
how war may lack fun.

Jen pick up her gun.
                                    ... it is surely not a pen.
my pen loses rhythm and so has the war
and the people who still fight all lose.
                                                                  In the end we will all lose...
This is some what how my brain has been processing all of the awful attacks that have been happening. Just that there are no "winners" or "losers" and the fighting just continues. at the end I made the flow end to show that it was just an ending for the rest of the story of the speaker and Jen.
Michael Ryan Nov 2015
Violence--
that is the term we like to throw around
when two people are brawling out in the street
Violence--
is a domestic dispute between two ill crossed lovers
who no longer can see eye to eye
unless their eyes are swollen shut.

Violence is not a fleeing person
who has to run from their protectors.
When protection means ****
it's hard to find the difference
between police officer
and criminal.

We're not shouting for them to stop speeding bullets
or to be our guardian who shields us from all
our pleas are for a chance
to live freely and safely in the world.

For them to understand that bullets do not prevent problems
and hiding the truth under a tower of corpses
will never keep their blood from seeping into the ground.
The ground where  too many people lie
from their protectors protecting too much.
The problem is not that any specific person is being killed.  The problem is some person died for nothing, other than fear.  It does not matter who we think we represent.  All that matters it that we represent humanity and hopefully that's something we all can understand.  People.
cable news video brilliantly captures
the blood washing Parisian gutters
glittering in City of Lights sparkle

images of carnage coagulate in my mind
clotting my heart with searing resent

in desperate need for release
from the abject scorn
that boils within my veins

I flip the channel to
watch a Predator marathon
but light entertainment
fails to satiate my restive soul

I turn down the volume
and click back to News

My iPod is audio ready
to soothe the savage beast
with some righteous death metal
I blast my earbuds,
Culture of Death's new CD
prepares me for real action
  
ever at the ready
digital recreation
has me *******
my controller
mustering up my
Call of Duty
comrades

I am a recognized
high score battlefield hero
taking out godless apostates
in the global war on terrorism

I'm usually eager to
baptize Iraqi jihadis in a
Holy Ghosting
bloodbath
but tonight
Black Ops kills
fails to thrill
my controller and I
stand down

opening the gun case
I cradle my Bushmaster
the smooth barrel and rugged stock
feels so right in my hand

it pleasures me to know
I am one of the good guys with a gun
I relish the fear and respect
I garner during open carry
troops to McDonalds
the hairs on the back of my neck
sometimes titillatingly rise

one day I hope to
take out an active shooter
at a movie or the supermarket
that would be way cool

I place my Bushmaster
back into the cabinet
and carefully rearrange
one of my Glocks

yet even with this
considerable armory
I still feel insecure
it may be time
for a trip to Walmart
to secure another Glock
*** more ammo

my heart recovers a bit when
I think about tomorrows recon trip
to my tree stand in the Jersey Highlands

Bear season starts soon
for the past few weeks
I've baited the area with
Dunkin Donuts and bacon grease
I've detected lots of bear ****
can't wait to drop one of those suckers
I visualize one in my gun sights
should be easy pickens

my CD ends with
some real raucous ****
removing my earbuds
I turn up the volume
on the News

footage from last summer's
Black Lives Matter demonstration
runs in continuous loop
members of the
New Black Panther Party
are yelling into the camera
a woman in a black burka
her eyes squinting angrily at me
from underneath her cover
sends shivers up my spine

when we take our country back
they will be served some
Second Amendment justice

News flashes Ted Cruz
condemning Muslim
refugee resettlement,
in a Christian Nation
only Christians should be
allowed in...

News breaks back to footage
from the concert venue
highlighting the
blood stained mosh pit

News flashes ISIS Jihadis
riding in Humvee's
routing the fleeing
Iraqi army once again

News highlights a smiling Putin
firing off Caspian Sea cruise missiles
into the bleeding Levant
examples of decisive leadership,
if only Obama could grow a pair

News flashes to a Rose Garden Obama
bragging about killing Jihad Johnny

the drone strikes and
active bombing campaigns in:
Syria
Iraq
Libya
Somalia
Nigeria
Mali
Yemen
Sinai
Afghanistan
Kenya
Congo
and other unspecified locations
are working says the Muslim Prez

By the looks of Paris
any real American Patriot
would think not

we need to send a message
a quick strike fix
some major shock and awe
to placate a nations troubled soul

if that offends any Christian
turn the other cheek
wimp, so be it

I say go
Old Timey Testament on their ***
let our vengeance is mine God
**** them all
**** them all
**** them all

Culture of Death:
Cystic Dysentery

Barry McGuire:
Eve of Destruction

The Doors:
The End


jbm
11/17/15
Newark
lots of hate going round since the murderous tragedy in Paris....
let cooler heads prevail.....
be still and know that I am God....
Aditi Kumar Nov 2015
The guns won.
Humanity lost.

The love we thought we all shared,
Shattered and the shards pierced our eyes.
The dead wanted to stay dead,
But those who are slaughtered from the soul
Want all of us to be that way too.

Hollow
Dry
Hungry
Loveless.

On this day, I don't even want to pray.
I have seen what religion does to people.

It's not a War that's brewing,
It's a force field:
One that hides us from each other,
One that forbids communication.

We are a confused people.
Painting our false faces won't help.
And now,
I don't know what will.
Our humanity was stretched thin, but now it is torn like a lion ripped it apart with it's gnashing teeth.
Alex Kuntz Nov 2015
A new town, a new place,
Every day we see them.
They are a blessing and a curse,
To bless us with death.

They're everywhere, they live among us,
And we love them so.
Point your fingers at the tools,
Point the barrels at yourselves,
It all makes sense in our twisted world.

Call 'em blind, call 'em slaves,
We're all the same.
Clones who can't see the raw  truth,
Without a coat of sweet lies.

Sky blue lies,
But the truth runs red,
Like the blood you soak in.

Let's play a game of Russian roulette,
I'll load the gun and you place the bets.
Who the **** will make it out?
Who has to die next?

Your standards have not changed in a changing world,
Tradition has been ***** of all reason.
So set flame the number two excuse,
Forever engraved in depravity.
How can they **** us without us?
We send each other to the slaughter.
Man turns on man, child turns to killer,
Isolation becomes the evil, and reason is retribution.

So let's play that of Russian roulette,
I'll load a few guns, you call those risky bets.
How many dead bodies equals logic?
How much longer can we do this?
Peter Balkus Oct 2015
James Bond is cool
but I'm not sure
the armed guy should be the one
to rule,
to save a belle
from hell.

A man with a gun - it could be anyone,
not only Bond.
But guns are wrong,
and we all know, it won't
make world a better place, oh no.
Violence is not the way.

I'd like to see Prince William as James Bond,
with bunch of flowers in his hands,
instead of gun.
That would be fun.

And Duchess Kate
as real Bond's girl,
always a smile away from her man.

That would be great.
Alan W Jankowski Oct 2015
Two young brothers are left at home,
All by their lonesome selves,
The older one notices a new toy,
Sitting high up on a shelf.

He climbs up and brings on down,
What he believes is a toy gun,
He thinks about the games they’ll play,
Boy this sure will be fun.

He aims the ‘toy’ at his little brother,
And shoots him in the head,
But that gun was not a toy at all,
And soon the three-year-old is dead.

When a child dies,
All the stuffed animals cry,
Alone on a shelf,
They sit by themselves,
In a cold lonely room,
Like a final tomb.

Johnny’s tired of being bullied at school,
But every dog has its day,
Though all his classmates seem so mean,
Johnny will make sure they all pay.

The next day at school will be different,
From a knapsack he pulls out a gun,
Suddenly he starts shooting his classmates,
Shoots them in the back as they run.

Soon most of the class has been shot,
And their young bodies are lying there dead,
With one bullet left in the chamber,
Johnny puts the gun to his own head.

When a child dies,
All the angels cry,
The tears flowing down,
On the sad little town,
It’s a cold, cold rain,
But it won’t numb the pain.

For Jose this is the biggest day in his life,
It’s his gang initiation in the ‘hood,
He must seek out a rival gang member,
With a couple of shots he’ll be good.

Jose packs his piece and extra clips,
And his driver takes him to the spot,
He takes aim at his helpless victim,
And another is dead with just one shot.

But that one bullet it ricocheted,
You hear a young mother scream and cry,
As she realizes her young son is hit,
On a cold dark street he is left to die.

When a child dies,
The whole world cries,
All lives matter, big and small,
I ask you people, heed the call,
Please stop the hate, before it’s too late,
For the future of us all.

10-27-15.
Written for the upcoming book "World Healing, World Peace Poetry 2016" on Inner Child Press...
http://www.worldhealingworldpeacepoetry.com/
Viseract Oct 2015
The boom of guns rolls through the hills,
And down the smoke-filled land
Aim and fire with precision,
That soldiers sleight of hand

The bullets fly,
The brave men die
Back at home, the families cry
This is the Price of War

The foolish rise from the trenches,
The wise, low to the ground
The one thing they have in common
Is they seek and end, what cannot be found

The bullets fly,
The soldiers die
Back at home, friends pray and cry
Why do we go to war?

Why must we take up arms,
And spill blood on our beloved land?
Pick up guns, shoot and run,
When we can unite, hand in hand?

It's not fair for the rest of us
Waiting for our soldiers to come home
And then get told the bad news,
That many won't come back at all

The bullets fly,
The brave men die,
The loss of kindred
Makes the kind-hearted cry

Why must we pay the Price of War
When we don't have to fight at all?
the first recorded poem that I ever wrote. Enjoy :)
Next page