"armories" poems
the military industrial complex
are making a killing
the arms trade
is a profitable business
billions are harvested
by the grey suited men
the war machine
supplies deadly payloads
collateral damage
always yields such a tidy sum
why interrupt or put paid
to a great earner
the balance sheet
must be in the black
production lines
busy filling orders
each day
the bullet
the bomb
the drone
sold to effectively obliterate
and take lives away
in corporate offices
the arms dealers
rub their hands
with glee
as they amass a bounty
from their lethal armories
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC
The water Is wide, white as ******* eyes. And I stand at the road pleading to god to see headlights.
Stand cold and shivering. Insecurity, Center dividers and purgatory.
This is what we know and it wont change anytime soon.
My cup runneth over.
Our Armories,
We are all just mirror images, ugliness clearer then your eyes laid shut while you’re tossing and turning at night.
Its all pain seeping through wires, in my veins and onto my skin.
The pain, It fills me up. Fills me up like this waitress fills my coffee cup.
I pray to god you make it wine, sweater to the tongue.
And if this may pass, god grant me the power to see past insecurities.
And this may pass please throw away all my ***** bed sheets.
This is the differences between cancer and divorce.
This is your soundtrack to a ****
This is your abandoned song.
Breath cancer and bend your own will.
- MW
Jul 31, 2011
Jul 31, 2011 at 1:15 PM UTC
The water Is wide, white as ******* eyes. And I stand at the road pleading to god to see headlights.
Stand cold and shivering. Insecurity, Center dividers and purgatory.
This is what we know and it wont change anytime soon.
My cup runneth over.
Our Armories,
We are all just mirror images, ugliness clearer then your eyes laid shut while you’re tossing and turning at night.
Its all pain seeping through wires, in my veins and onto my skin.
The pain, It fills me up. Fills me up like this waitress fills my coffee cup.
I pray to god you make it wine, sweater to the tongue.
And if this may pass, god grant me the power to see past insecurities.
And this may pass please throw away all my ***** bed sheets.
This is the differences between cancer and divorce.
This is your soundtrack to a ****
This is your abandoned song.
Breath cancer and bend your own will.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 5:44 AM UTC
Because I am not there
You trap the bird
And never set it free,
You think it smart
To tear the innocents apart,
You deem it cool
To see your power rule
In bringing down the harmless
You never see their face,
Love, pity, you could choose any
You preferred tyranny,
Armories of weapon you build
To make this world a battlefield
Because I am not there in your heart
You are dead from the start
Imprisoned in your ruthless kingdom
Ever denying the bird its freedom!
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
English and Celtic Poets
A Sassenach assembles words and lines
In order, disciplined, like hammer-falls
Upon reluctant steel in armories
The beat and off-beat in formation set
A Celt sings challenges carelessly into the eagle-skies
To soar among the storms in sorrow and in joy
Laughing among full cups of heathery vowels
Claidheamh-mor swinging against blank verse in English helmets
An Englishman sends words to fight and work
A Celt persuades wild words to fight and dream
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
In their perfect world
looks like we would all be dead
see their armories
Kelly McManus
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 3:34 PM UTC
Gather round me children
Listen to my words
It's not about, the where and when
But armor, you should gird
Youth is indestructible
That's what the young will think
Souls and hearts not corruptible
By sins, deeds, flesh, and drink
Forever is the stain of the past
Kept in all the memories
Some misshapen and miscast
Arrayed in mental armories
Don't let your love be bitter bled
Do better than I, my daughter, son
Do the things that I have said
And not the things I've done
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC