"armory" poems
ruminating
cogitating
pondering
thinking
the subject matter doth
put the mind into a thought seat
is there sufficient verbs for me
to place on the paper's sheet
verbs by definition are words
which have an action
they on the reader
do have an impaction
so let's explore a topic
worth a thousand of them
how I'll express this piece
shall test my mind's stem
here is the matter I shall discuss
without any duress or manner of fuss
all over the globe there is much trouble
our planet is not as a carefree bubble
the inhabitants often observe strife somewhere
our corners of four not of an according air
were there to be peace and calmed relations
no concerns would beset our world's many nations
yet a propensity for war doth ever prevail
what sane men shall see the wrongs of this pail
verbs shall never explain man's idiocy
as he's ever involving himself in armory
yet a man who did advocate cordiality
lived with his brothers in true harmony
he was a meek man of the Indian land
a message of non-violence he did band
the lessons of history are never heard
man seemingly ever in the warring herd
the middle east is a tinder box of hell this day
exploding bombs and munitions all spray in affray
verbs of dialogue aren't put to good use
an ongoing lighting of the fuse doth suffuse
few statesmen of Gandhi's ilk now exist
so the torture and torment of war shall e'er persist
diplomacy has lost its edge around the globe
our planet shall remain bound in worrisome lobe
the count of verbs in this piece didn't quite reach a thousand
yet deaths in conflicts outdo that number by the thousands
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 5:18 AM UTC
my face shaped hearty
I only see you partly
as you join my nocturnal party
I heard you miles away
your sounds as clear as day
birds of a feather
I cannot figure whether
humans are trusty
when they ruin my forestry
swoop towards your arm
in dead silent charm
my evolutionary armory
are truly my 'viving beauty
I claw down my goal
in aerodynamic prowl
feasting on successive bowl
my ornithologic growl
is my greet to you any howl.
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
When a poet falls in love with you,
You will be his queen
You will be the most beautiful lady that they have seen
You will be the subject and protagonist in every story and scene
Because when a poet falls in love with you,
that poet will take away your fears and sorrow
and you can be **** sure that he will wipe away your tears and for you, he sure as hell will catch an arrow
and he will promise you that there is a beauty in every tomorrow
when a poet falls in love with you,
he will surely give you all of his time and attention,
love and affection,
gives you all of his protection,
as if you're the most precious masterpiece in his entire creation
and in times that you'll feel you're all alone,
he will become your favorite superhero without a cape on
because a poet knows how powerful the words are-
he will build your dreams up and through his words, you will become immortal
you will be the center of his universe, you will be his stars and moon
and even though you're thousand miles apart he will never be tired in saying "see you soon"
Because when a poet falls for you,he will use all of his vocabulary
his words,letters, sentences and paragraph will be his armory
because for him, nothing is more precious than seeing his girl happy
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
So I was sitting at home watching a movie when nature called me and told me that it was time to drain my bladder. She is such a sweet lady. So I do my business and I flush the toilet. but oh no! It wouldn’t stop running! If it keeps running like that, it will make the water bill go up which would cause our family grief beyond anything!
I was taken aback and scared at this atrocity, making me realize that the toilet demon has come again to make us pay for using his burial site for plumbing. I gathered all of the courage that I could muster and I screamed, “I will save this house from the toilet demon!”
I took the lid off of back and could hear the demon laughing at me as he kept the water running, I notice that the water would stop if I kept a piece held up. But alas! It wouldn’t stay up! I thought deeply on what to do. There were no rubber bands and tape wouldn’t hold. But string would! So I rushed to the armory, otherwise known as the pantry, and I found some string, and some electric tape as well! I gathered my tools and with a battle cry, I rushed back to the bathroom. I could have swore that I heard the yells of other men, and the sounds of horses plowing through the ground, while the music from the film 300 played out loud.
I rushed into the bathroom and lifted my tools! Then the water stopped and the toilet had finished its cycle and all was silent and still. I cursed, dropped everything, and went back to sit down and watch my movie, thinking that I let the plumbing get a little out of hand.
The End
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
1. i watched you eradicate the ruby roses from your
skin with razors, you told me they just needed to be set
free, they were just doves in a cage needing freedom.
2. i heard that hibernation lasts only during winter
but it's spring, doesn't the flowers learn to pick up
their spines to the sun and reach for the skies?
3. i'm not sure which part of my heart is revealed to
you, but it must be a revolting sight. my apologies.
4. my heart is 50% happy/ 50% sad like living at the
bottom of the world, where i get night time six months
a year and day time six months a year.
5. this web you've strung me in has me tangled in semi-
impossible knots but i would take all the time in the world
to detangle the vines from you and let you continue growing.
6. the weight of my heavy armory prevented me from swimming
in the sickening waters, so i screamed "forget me not" at you. i'm
not so sure you heard me or if you just ignored my screams.
7. your pianists fingers let me slip through your fingers slowly
like motor oil or pancake syrup, but i'm sure you washed off
the parts of me that stuck onto your fingers.
8. HERE IS YOUR ULTIMATUM: LEAVE OR STAY.
9. survival relies on the fittest, but i'm anything but fit
for helping you survive. let me bandage every scar, even
though you're not going to be the same person afterwards.
10. forever is an overused term, but i will never forget the
side of you that shined the brightest and made the sun jealous.
- kra
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
*My armory is in the amorous corner of my brain,
dexterously I press the button of my attack missiles-
on love mission, as soon as she advances all of a sudden
making me counter her attack, directed to my heart,
aiming with her blazing eyes, that hit the bull's eye of the target.*
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
A warrior of love, a perfect Amazon
you are well equipped for a war,
ready to take whatever it'd be to win,
beauty of such kind wages any war
only to conquer,the news has spread
that I am the one, you've set
your sight,so glad I am, for me!
Hypnotized by your painted dark eyes,
I am thirsty; instead of water, your lips
offer great solace, only disentangling
becomes a deed impossible at last!
Your armory is full,I could very well feel
the moment you employ embraces as a part
of your tactics of overpowering and subjugation,
I guess you still have more moves hidden,kept ready
in case of a prolonged war of ****** masterfulness,
I gather, but why, yes why ,should I bother?
Take me by my hand and lead,show me which way
to move to please you most.
To your bed,we'd retreat,
warriors of unrelenting amour, we'd take up
this beloved endeavor couched in ardent desire,
we'll play the parts riding the horses of passion,
till dawn shows us the signs to retire for a time.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC
this verbal wishing well, appreciated,
a nut of good intentions but drives me
deeper into de-spare-ing downing detentions,
for it is only the article's genuine genius,
that elevates the human spiritus, to godlike status
no ditty this, but a wail, shriek, for
human touch is gift so greatest,
that any day passing without
either, neither but both, 'tis one
truly wasted,
a deduction on our
calculus of inited^ human intuitions,
a failure of our greatest inventions
a subtraction of our
gainful living, a purposed ecstasy
our one and only inexact
measure of measurement
that defies pedantic notions of
things of weight or volume,
but extends our own existence
sans
the armies of embrace,
the electric elected syncing,
of the shocking sharing of
closing the borders of divided spaces,
a soft contusion, a realized illusion
a de minimus of our days,
a lessening of our lessons,
a loss of earning livingness,
a nail in our coffined basket,
and here to cease without surcease,
the elemental incalculable numbered
members of our total human races,
that so tragic in a twenty four expiry,
that the bonding of affection goes
unexpressed...
offer you my armory of arms,
cleanse us both with showered kisses,
inform you thus of our emboldened connection,
voiding these lowlife separators of lineage divisors,
what matter color, gender, chosen god nomenclature,
any of this nonsensical human inventions for distancing
divested human beings from each other
tho eyes closed, and all our senses flaring,
when we confirm what we were born knowing,
there is nothing greater than the human touch
PostScript
my first and best poem of the day,
how it came to me goes unbeknownst,
but will practice what is preached
with any and all willing encountered souls,
and perhaps, come-end of day, will write,
once more, one more, re heaven on earth
7:02am
Tue Sep Thirty
Two Thousand and Twenty Five. nml
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 7:13 AM UTC
the surgical procedure required to probe into your
skull is way too difficult for me. how difficult is it to
learn how to examine the thoughts you conjure up,
like arithmetic or magic. the stem cutters to pull the
dead roots out of you are dull, like the color of dead
coral or fishes that don't see sunlight. maybe the fishes
just don't swim to the surface too often. if i would have
seen your arsenal and armory before i dedicated every
inch of my pointless existence of a heart to you, every
hour of my life wouldn't hold disdain and regret for you.
the only difference between us and a car crash was that
the shrapnel and glass was our shattered memories.
the hairline fractures that are burned into my wrist's bones
have turned into full blown fragments eradicated from the
ligaments. i've seen fall, winter, spring, and summer meet
all in the same day because of you. you are an impossible
calculation, a lobotomy no pet scanner can recognize.
- kra
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
July Twenty Fourth, Nineteen Fifteen
The river was murky, The weather was seen
The steamer Eastland, firm on her bow,
loaded with coal, port side and sound
A captain, that's ***** and stout in his manner
stands on his bridge with an arrogant cantor
Mooring lines set, stern to the bow
Gangplanks are steady, awaiting a crowd
Employees of Western dressed to their nines,
a picnic awaits, everything's fine
Families with smiles and tickets in hand
looks up in wonder, the Eastland she stands
Boarding commences and loaded up full
Twenty Five Hundred, no more to call
Port side list, a lean to the river
Ballast is leveled, some felt the shiver
Worries amount to settling fears,
a starboard list and beckoning tears
Back to the port, no coming back
tipped on her side, everything's black
Panic in fever, screams are abound
echoes in motion, no silence no sound
The river's chaotic with bodies afloat
Kenosha stands ready and rescues the most
Eight forty four lost their lives
In the armory they lay and Chicago cries
The Eastland still rests in our hearts and our mind
Not a second or hour can turn back the time
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
He told his sister to feed the dogs,
His twin sister; Sophia Bogvoskya,
As he was to take out the herds
Of horses, sheep, donkeys and cows,
Out to the plains and hill land for grazing,
She never took a **** she locked herself,
Up in the ante chamber of the main house,
She took the mirror and began looking
At her beauty, Russian model beauty
She began picking her nails,
As the dogs were starving in the sheds
They whined but no succor came forth,
A fiat that coincided with arrival of ogres,
The great Western Ogres, the tongues wagging,
They had a plethora of eyes and mouths,
Noses and ears, limbs both hind and fore,
They ate all the young sheep,
They took away Putin’s young brothers
Crimea and Ukrainian, both were taken away,
By the ferocious NATO ogres they were taken
In a whelp and desperate kicking for freedom,
Dogs stood aloof as ogres thrashed Sophia
Into thin lacerations of red flesh,
They ate as they roared with laughter,
Then they went away with their loot,
Vladimir came back home, found nothing
No sister, no brothers no sheeplings,
Only two white sepulchers glared at him,
The graves of his mother and father;
The former cooks of Lenin Vladimir,
He mourned and mourned grievously,
Then he sang a dirge of his forefathers
From the herculean land of Bosnia,
And also Moscow, he dirged;
We were born in the wee of the night,
When the bear is whelping,
And we were suckled by the Tigre
When our mothers were taken slaves,
For no man or creature
Will ever make us victims
Nor subjects of fear,
He recovered from the moment
Trial some moment of loss and bereave,
Then he chose to go after the ogres
But with a strategum of no match,
He began arming himself first
Before he could set on,
His mobile armory full of deadly weapons;
A bunch of wasps, wild bees, black ants,
A thousand slings, spears and sickles,
Machetes, poisonous saps, and toxics,
Wild dogs, five hundred snakes and scorpions,
Bows and arrows as well as cudgels,
Clubs, stones and chains,
He also learned how to use the hands
In the most lethal manner,
Then he went for combat,
To rescue all that was taken,
Taken from him by the ogres….
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC
Science, you beauty!
Be it the missions to Mars
or those yummy chocolate bars
Be it the gadgets we use, or the comfort of shoes
The magic of airplanes, or cars shooting down lanes
what have you not, in your armory got
what more will you show, to us bewildered does
Our jaws are on the floor, tingling in our toes
when you unveil your magic, we can only squawk like crows
Speechless and breathless, your discoveries leave us
Joy is ours, when you unveil the covers
of the magic of nature, that wickedly smart creature
Such is the comfort, that you have gifted us bummers
that we do as we please, lathering on the grease
no cause to hide, for we have science on our side!
Science, you beauty!
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
Smile
Even if you don't mean it
Fake it like your o face
Make it like you're going out of style
I don't know why I keep going after the broken ones.
Maybe there's a piece they're missing
like I could be the peace of mind musing
her fragile little soul.
Maybe I just want to fix something.
The perfectionist architect,
The anti-hero archetype
Letting my emotions build castles
instead of locking me in some dungeon ruminating.
Or maybe I'm the ******* broken one
Dead set on divinity
Dormant in between rock bottom and a dark place
I'm ok, I swear to a god complex
Praying for some princess clad in punk rock armory.
Tearing through the motions
in the mosh pit of reality.
All for her crown of fire and flowers,
Come on, save me,
*The light of my life
Fire of my *****
Lusting into supernovas
To encompass this astral plane
Where we're waging a war against reality
With the fantasy I'm wanting to pull out
a 4th wall broken
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
I’m in a vicious state of mind,
no siren calls to stem the putrid inferno
burning my mind to charcoal,
petrifying it to unblemished obsidian.
Words of love don’t reach me,
silly human endearments bore me,
touch me and I’ll slice your hands off.
It’s not good, they tell me.
But I will build my armory.
Until this warped, traitorous world
can be wrenched, twisted, hammered
back into hinges,
that I have complete control of.
Silence...
Finally
Testament of a panzer maiden
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
My room,
Both a death camp and a safe zone,
Rather wither away,
Than face execution.
Open door,
Deep breath,
Failure.
Hand over my feelings,
back to bed,
laying there,
friends were a conspiracy.
Leaving this house a teenage floor of lava,
To the armory,
Wield headphones and an over grown coat.
Open door,
Deep breath,
Stand.
The sun hurt as if i just left a space ship,
Fear of both know and unknown,
On this planet I was the alien.
Open gate,
Deep breath,
Walk.
Pavements conveyor belts,
Pushing out ghouls of society,
Cubicle bound,
Grey walls.
Yet still asked why so scared,
Of what I wish was just in my head,
This earth,
The land of dead.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
To be abnormal in a normal world, is that so uncool? How about to be unjust in an unjust world? Surely then yes, for I am a fool. Not a fool so cruel, but a fool too cool to abide by societies rules. You see, it is the nature of man to be just as unjust as the unjust world, just as must as it is to be a fool, but not a foolish fool. Now you, you are a tool, for living the just life in an unjust world. You are the tool and I am the Utilitarian, and will use you to my advantage and private interests. That’s just how things go here in this structured place, meant to deface and interface yourself. Desensitize you to yourself; reduce yourself to a cheap exploitative commodity; a means for my planned robbery laid near a veneer of parliament armory. Society rules by the Golden Rule, and that is: Those with the gold are those who rule! Now who is the fool you tool?!
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 6:06 PM UTC
Corruption ruled the County
And the rich man owned the town.
The citizens were desperate
for a solution to be found.
The Sheriff seized the ballot box
And shot a black man down.
Mister Cantrell and his minions
Wouldn’t pay the people heed.
They would stuff those ballot boxes
With the numbers they would need.
In Athens there were veterans
just returned from foreign war.
What went on in McMinn County
Wasn’t what they had bled for.
They got weapons from the armory
And they faced the sheriff down.
They blew the jail doors from outside
Bringing justice to the town.
No longer would the Cantrells
Hold the county in their fist.
The right to bear arms had prevailed
May it be ever thus.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Strife wields the knife after your rifles raise high,
No need for a biblical sign since it takes only a few to steal the spot-light
And only one to spoil a life,
The notions of potentially prospering a home,
Planting a peaceful place,
Where pigmentation does not define your days,
But the way in which you prove yourself,
Because this is truly an extraordinary species,
Hindered by man’s inherent ignorance,
An internal enemy described as grace,
Barbarians breeding thieves,
Inhibited from sanity,
Inebriated with fury,
Incubated in hatred,
As you continually cultivate such cruel beings,
Some individuals can defy the trend,
Some of Adam’s relatives rose because they knew the knuckles could do so much more than listen to a serpent,
From their roots of savagery,
It’s in the blood to be a parasite,
But it is in the genes to eradicate these devilish deeds,
Imaging the possibility like a dead-head hippy,
The chance to see a society,
Distancing itself from the armory,
Poverty pushes people to find relief via a knife,
Causing those governing eye’s to raise their rifles high,
Forgetting to sight the white of their eyes,
And turning bystanders into enemies.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
Secure the perimeter.
Seal off the contaminated sector.
Where is my shield & protector.
Build a mote around the castle.
Close the draw bridge.
Recruit some muscle.
Quick let's hustle.
Canon ***** to the ridge.
Cut off their army. Seize fire.
They are too old & need to retire.
Bullet proof suits, that are fashionable & cute.
Steel toe boots, loaded guns.
You can't out run.
War is not peaceful or fun.
Violence is not the answer.
An uncurable cancer.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
I thrive in silence
These mental pylons requiring void
I need all of my neurons to be employed
Modernity calls…
Undulating waves lambast the structure
My zigs start zagging when they should be zigging
The course turns inward
Noise so noisome, I then soil the blank
Cursing God, myself, and the bank
For such a hideous, heinous, everyday mistake
This arsenal
This armory
My six-digit word bank
Fall all out of order
Twenty-six slots, filled in with haste
The instrument bears air greedily in
My fingers can’t trace the holes amongst the din
So I issue out garbage
And pretend
This new edition is
Just another win.
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
We give guns to our sons,
to protect our land
to protect our souls
to protect our goals
We have guns in the truck
guns in the car
in the prison bus
guns just for fun.
guns at the airport
guns on the plane
guns in the air,
guns in every state
guns at the armory
guns at the bank
guns for the money
guns in the safe
guns on The Hill
guns on patrol
guns on the street
"guns that ****
guns on the gangs
guns in the trains
guns at the range
guns on the stage
guns on T.V
guns at big screens
guns at the table,
guns on the scene
guns on the plains,
guns in the mount,
guns in the desert,
guns we can't count
guns in the south,
guns from the west,
from coast to coast
guns everywhere!
guns on hand
guns on the boats
Guns across --- the whole wide world.
Guns in Mosul,
Guns in Iraq
Guns in Japan
Guns in Slovak
Guns in Chicago
Guns in Bhutan
Guns in Australia, Malay, and
Taiwan
Guns in Korea,
Guns in the ocean
Guns on the shores, guns never broken
--or sold or banned or destroyed or stolen
No token
prayer,
no
sign of devotion
no tears
or weeping
or candles
have spoken
for the thousands dead, the thousands snuffed dead
Guns in the policecar,
Guns in the open
Guns on the street,
But no, we can't own them
Our children are dead, dying and born
Into a world of guns, and guns that won't go
we protect our world, our money, our loves
with guns
So why don't we do so?
With the children?
Our sons?
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
smiling in a mirror I see
an elephant in the room\a deserted island .
there are mountains precipices above about me
dangerous
surroundings if I give up
and dark valleys filled with enemies
knowledge is no armory when fitted for a battle of strength
'tis general \
or survival that brings an animal above to see
here
in reality
I am the one
alone so natural like mammal lust and human greed
in all the caves I seek
hiding
away from
rationing my sanity if I did not see a grander destiny
for me
for us.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Crafting scissors
Gardening shears
A pizza roller
Instruments of humble vivisection
I wield, I rend, I create.
Needles and pins,
Nimble and thin,
I pierce, I pull, I close.
With measured patience
I choose my weapons:
Ink, passion, time, and wit.
An armory of precision and gut.
Boulders bruise but roll away,
Fire burns, but I'm already ablaze,
Arrows lodge shallow or all fall short,
But the cold?
It slices.
The draining thought:
Is this the end of my creation -
Is there no more?
I slowly bleed out.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
i let you flow
through the veins
to my heart
unaware of
your tremendous
armory
to realize
it was
just another
shot from the past
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Streaks of orange and golden pageantry,
like a chariot driven by cavalry,
in an orb made of opulent armory,
delighting everyone with your supreme scenery.
Uniquely made with fire and fury,
reaching us in eight minutes of undue hurry,
can’t get me out of bed this early, even
as your warmth is as pleasant as poetry.
Adorning the blue sky with white colored pastels,
seeking adoration for you by those blooming sunflower petals,
wake me up inside so I can draw you a mural,
maybe beam me up a vast canvas,
so I can paint one as splendidly supernatural.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 9:34 AM UTC