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Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020
Bells sing at death's dance
Cloak of galaxies vapors
A scythe of petals
Just a short haiku I wrote based on a dream I had
of a sword with charms and bells.
Tommorow, I'll be dropping a third letter of my six part letter series!
It was so sad for me to write, but it will add another layer to the growing story
Heres a link to the three that I have written already:
The Screen [Intro]: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2667918/the-screen/
Meihua's Message: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2681085/meihuas-message/
Yuyan's Message: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3919420/yuyans-message/
Isa Jun 2020
what's it like to have a gun to your head?
the feeling of the cold barrel pushed up against your hair,
knowing that inside that barrel is a future that rides the line you didn't always think you'd walk.
the wideness of that barrel, you can feel it's exact measurements on your skull.
the gaping hole in the center of the tube, that weightless piece against you,
but only physically weightless.
the heaviness of the weapon becomes
as heavy as your heart.

is it the part of the power in the trigger against your hand?
or is it the knowledge of the chemistry inside that gun,
that's pushing against your hand,
like your palm and finger with that gun have a newfound power?
is it a horrifying power?
is it peaceful?
is it aggressive?
loud?
is it as quick as your instincts?
the flip of the coin,
as quick as your mind changes?
is it as exhilarating as you wanted?
or as deadly as you thought?
is the weight of the bullets as much as the potential you have,
that you so easily dispose of?
so easily reject?

which is it, Isa?
it's not worth it.
Kaitlin May 2020
Out in the penetrating haze
Of the natural world
Weapons are used, not made.
No battle is a war
Out in natural light.
And weapons are used, not made.
Indifferent as she is,
Nature picks no side,
And so weapons are used, not made.
When something is born,
In natural light
It is born creature, helpless
So no weapon is born to be made.
Yet under lightbulb, in man's metal warehouse
In sanitary stink and entombed disembodiment,
Some weapons are bred to be played.
George Krokos Mar 2020
Man's stupidity
has once again been displayed
to what end foretold?

To find a vaccine
is man's first priority
for the days ahead

The instigators
of this world epidemic
to justice be brought

Of this pandemic
called the corona virus
deployed was by whom?

Biological
warfare it seems to be like
no one will admit

We may never know
if it was a weapon used
in a secret way

May God help us all
is now an ardent prayer
repeated often
_
Some thoughts which have crossed my mind over the last week or so due to the global pandemic sweeping the world currently.
Karl Gerald Saul Mar 2020
ARMAS MO'Y PANALANGIN.

Bago natin hangarin ang pansarili hiling,
Hingin na bawat isa'y makabangon at gumaling;
Sa gabay Nya, walang maiiwang nakabitin
Pagkat ang DIYOS ay mas higit pa sa bituin.

Mataimtim na dasal ang mainam na gawin.
Isuko sa kanya ang lahat ng masamang gawain;
Talikuran at wag na nating ulit-ulitin
Ang Kanyang utos ay di dapat balewalain

Normal lang matakot, pananalig mo'y wag hawiin
Boung pusong pananampalataya - Sya'y purihin;
Huminahon at sa kanya tayo'y manalangin
Handa syang makinig, naghihintay lamang sa'atin.

Simpleng pagsubok lamang ito kung tutuusin
Kung sa kanya ang tiwala mo'y hindi bitin;
May dumating mang hadlang at ika'y sirain
Itanim sa isipan - armas mo'y panalangin.
nick armbrister Feb 2020
Breathe deeply kiddies and get some virus
Cyrus the Virus is here to **** you
Novichok flavour just for you
VX nerve gas special come get some
You'll feel fine better than the Black Death
Roll up and and get some bugs
Only the best for you lazy Millennials
Made in Russia mothertruckers
Neo Soviet influence touching you
Reaching out for you wherever you are
Even on the Moon or Planet ******* Mars
Not even Santa and Old Nick are safe
Novichok gonna get you virus kaput time
Empress Asa Jan 2020
This wound is different..
This wound isn't the same as the past..
Wounds that are invisible but feel real..
I don't like this pain to be repeated..
A knife that stabbed in the back..
I'm tired with of all this drama..
Different wounds but have the same pain..
Different weapons but injuring the same place..

With all of the kindness, madness, happiness, sadness, rudeness, and every feeling of taste..
The weapons hurt without feeling..
Day by day the pain is still exist..
I don't know what kind of medicine can handle this...
The medicine is you
kathryntheperson Oct 2019
My mind holds the key to
your heart.
But it's also a weapon.
Alaa Oct 2019
A greater cause,
means a better life.
Or atleast so they voice.
But how do you fight for what is right;
when all you dispose of is knife?

I ask myself who is my greatest enemy?
Is it me, myslef, or I?
Mybe all I need is a remedy.
To make all the wrong rectify.

I know that all of what I am capabe of holding is a weapon.
But how do you use such a thing when you can't tell the difference between your foe and your allies?
All I see are demons who seem to have come from the heart of heaven.
But afetr all, isn't that everybodies homeland. Even the devil knows all of its alleys.

But mybe weapons as deadly as they can be,
are the more or less something like you and me.
Mybe they weren't found for the unique cause of killing.
Pedro Reyes made weapon in art fullfilling.

What was war's greatest tool.
Has now become harmony's moor.
What was used in fights caused by sheer unreason.
Has now brought all people even.

All those cries,
all those tries.
And I still can't realize:
what on earth can possibly be my cause.
Pedro Reyes is a mexican artist who's most famous for making musical instruments out of weapons
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