"firefight" poems
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…open wide! The all-new Angus third-pounder…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…illiteracy: an incurable disease or education malpractice…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…childhood obesity is at an all-time high…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…suicide bomber, 10 people dead…”
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“…teachers on strike again…”
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“…Michael Jackson…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…another Amber Alert has been issued…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…number of Americans going hungry increases…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…ninety-six billion pounds of food go to waste each year…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Nicole Kidman loves her new *****
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…another soldier was killed yesterday in a firefight…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“...you can do to protect against H1N1…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…live the rainbow, taste the rainbow…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…the King of Pop…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…confirmed: the remains belonged to 6 year old…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…boy refuses to pledge allegiance unless gays and lesbians have equal rights...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…scientist reveals her secret life as a **********
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…police are waiting on a positive ID on the girl’s body...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…Michael Jackson...”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…actor who played Santa Claus jailed for having *** with boys…”
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“…Iran is restarting their nuclear facility…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…armed teen jumped the pizza delivery man…”
BTZZZZZZZZ
“…woman who has three hundred ******* a day finally meets her dream man…”
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“…why we love Taylor Swift…”
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“fifteen year old son, shot by his father, has died tonight…”
BTZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ [click]
Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 8:25 PM UTC
This is for all my battle buddies, HOOAH!
Serving in Iraq,
Serving in Afghanistan.
With a grainy, sandy, hot, and humid desert surrounding you.
Looking into miles of nothing.
Always ready, always on patrol, ready to roll.
Ducking your head to re-load in the middle of the firefight.
Taking a stand against the evils of the world.
To my battles with integrity,
We all bleed the same,
Fighting for freedom of the Red, White, and Blue
Live green die green
Scream it with me at the top of your lungs:
HOOAH!
Soldier people;
This for all the clowns that play Video Games
Talking that 1337 (LEET) speak
Owning some newbs for fun
Screaming at the little kids that they ****
I’m taking on the girls 1 versus 1
Passing by the hours staring at the screen
Drinking Mountain Dew, and eating skittles
Sniping people with your M4,
Blowing them up as they walk through the door
Gamer people;
This is for all my Tech-y nerds
Working with computer components
Make sure you stay grounded
We don’t want an electrical eruption
I hated Network Theory,
But I still didn’t get a B.
The “have you tried restarting,” people.
Surfing the Internets, refer to Wikipedia people.
Tech people;
This is for all the Snowboard bums,
We ride hard, but still chill
Jumping in front of the skiers for a mighty thrill
We do it for an Adrenaline rush
Boardin’ through the trees,
And the snow that is white and plush
Snowboard people;
This is for all the Music lovers
That let the beat move their souls
Bumpin’ to the rhythm
Dancing out of control
Let the beat take you away
Fist pump yourself into the night,
Even though I can’t dance, ‘cause I’m White.
Music people.
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 9:43 PM UTC
Passing judgment is subjective,
it’s in the eyes of the beholder.
You know it, don’t do it.
It goes something like you point a finger at someone
& they're four pointing back at you.
Like who makes anyone a judge & jury?
That’s right, arrogance.
It’s usually themselves,
spilling volumes about how righteous they are.
They’re what some label a smokescreen character,
a ******* flimflam artist,
holier than thou, you know the type.
They wouldn’t last ten seconds in a firefight.
Bottom line: trust no one, not even yourself.
I saw family members
give up their relatives
to make a buck.
That’s right, greenbacks.
A regular family-affair.
Imagine selling out blood for paper.
We called it a war on terror.
They called it Jihad.
It didn’t matter what anybody called it.
There was no God involved.
Just human nature & people pointing fingers.
The same old show,
the same old ****
dogs & ponies
one upping each other.
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
He was alone
Far from home
Isolated by bullets
As he bled on sand and stone
The explosion triggering the attack
Crushed vertebrae in a brother's back
A bullet tore through another's arm
The wound left a prominent scar
Through the radio, the lone voice of the isolated soldier:
"I've been shot...and it's bad."
Upon reaching the fallen, the medic knew from ****** experience
That his friend was a living corpse, dying is a process
Doc prayed he was wrong
He wasn't
Next week, next firefight
Their blood paid for our blood
Pray it meant something in the end
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
+91364727-37474838
BLACK MAGIC, **** YOUR WIFE, **** A TEENAGER, *** TO MOUTH, FREE PROSTATE EXAM.
Try writing from your heart, with a hand that won't quit shaking, and lungs that might explode from anxiousness, only to see your words
be drowned out by a combination of words made to make cents, but heavy lacking on sense. A mind that cycles is like a firefight with your synapses looking for that spark. It's electrifying and mind-blowing, these moods that take months to overcome. Electrifying are the manic months, ones where you hide bank statements, where you penetrate a woman both mind and body. Mind-blowing is the depression, and the barrel of a pistol clenched between your teeth, as you open up your junk mail hopelessly searching for a letter sealed with a kiss.
But it doesn't exist.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
two
of us
lying
on our stomachs
and to each other
silently
did he see
what I saw
did he smell
what I smell
how close were they
to us
how many were there
I have only one magazine left
he has two
if he
gets it first
I will grab his
what
would he think
if he knew
what I thought
I want to ask him
“are there any ***** there”
but my whisper
will be a lighthouse of sound
to Charlie
a beacon for him
to hone in on
and zap me
so I don’t whisper
and neither does he
I wondered
with all my squad members
dead around me
if he ****** his pants
like I did
not during the firefight
but two eternal hours later
two hours in this black grass
under this black sky
my thoughts of the noble dead
drowned by my ****
who knows
what others thought
in black pre-nothingness
God I want to whisper to him
to ask if he ****** on himself
to ask if he could see Charlie
to ask if he was thinking of home
to ask if knew I was alive
four feet from his elbow
smelling
my ****
the oil on his weapon
the dead buddies
all around us
and the sweat of the VC
I wanted to ask
in a whiffed whisper
but
could not
for questions have answers
but answers may have nothing
so I did not
and when the sun
slowly washed the night away
I still
couldn’t bring
myself to ask
if we…
if we
were still alive
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
Last night another soldier
lay down in his cot
and closed his eyes upon the world
a world that he forgot
A world amongst his family
his friends and neighbors too
A world where he's just dad
not some LT's number two
Last night another soldier
stayed awake all night
watching over brothers
hurt and injured from the fight
A night like many other
for this corpsman now deployed
he's face to face with horrors
that no war can e'er avoid
Last night another soldier
went on patrol, did not come back
he fell amidst a firefight
from enemy attack
An enemy he never knew
nor even understood
An enemy he only fought
cos someone thought he should
Last night another soldier
celebrated passing out
tomorrow night this cycle
will repeat, there is no doubt
For each night there are soldiers
who do all of the above
hoping we may know true liberty
freedom, peace, and love
May 27, 2010
May 27, 2010 at 7:08 PM UTC
What the **** is this?
How has it, that it's come so fast?
I gotta run through this list
Otherwise I'll never last
Run down the street
And to the left
Down by the swamp
Where they cook it life chefs
And wear dark clothes
You can't seem them at night
You're lucky if you get out
Fortunate for no firefight
So put your hood up
And your hat on
Look straight ahead
Before your casket's closed
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 3:59 PM UTC
to all lost within the
night
to all left behind in
the firefight
she became a caged bird
sullied and shamed
brave enough to sing
through bars in
whispers
the moon pulsates in
the clear dark
& gives her warmth and
wanderlust
she dreams about dancing
in sunlit prairie
meadows
she'll never tell you where
the wind goes
when it steals your hat
& never bothers
to tell you
goodbye
we must all roam the earth
a few times
before we ever come
back home
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 12:29 AM UTC
Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly
Thank you all for coming yeah it’s nice you’re stopping by
Don’t close your eyes now baby or you’ll miss the big surprise
Pick up your sword defend yourself the danger is real here and there’s nothing else
Take a deep breath and hold on tight if you want to survive
The firefight take a deep breath and don’t cry cause if your not careful we could die tonight so don’t give up
And don’t give in your stronger than they think you are
Iron heart
Dreams are never soothing no the pain is to intense there’s no turning back now cause your right against the fence
Cant deny your destiny its cause its slammed into your face nothing left but fighting no more power to erase
Pick up your sword defend yourself the danger is real here and there’s nothing else
Take a deep breath and hold on tight if you want to survive
The firefight take a deep breath and don’t cry cause if your not careful we could die tonight so don’t give up
And don’t give in no never give up And never give in
Pick up your sword defend yourself
there’s nothing else nothing else!
Take a deep breath and hold on tight if you want to survive
The firefight take a deep breath and don’t cry cause if your not careful we could die tonight so don’t give up
And don’t give in your stronger than they think you are
Iron heart
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
They laughed at the duct tape
holding his handguard together.
Go figure, that *****
withstood all types of weather,
from searing desert heat
to chilly nights.
And when we got into a firefight,
Hudson was a killer,
was more acurate than
the boys with
the newer models.
That ain't funny.
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
Where were they
when we needed them the most.
The fat smiling holy man
laughing at the long haired freak
spouting proverbs
and prophesies.
And you,
with your words about infidels,
killing in the name
of the Almighty,
glorious leader of the tribes.
You say walk on unwrinkled rice paper
and you will be enlightened.
Hog wash.
None of you stepped in
to stop a single firefight,
the spilling of human blood.
Do you really exist,
you irreverent blasphemers
with your own ****** hands,
liars of the true faith.
Repent.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
The film Jim was watching was in
Black and White. He’s seen it before
And I
Was a few rows behind.
He loved the theater because it smelled like home
Before moving away from Minnesota.
His face was medieval, sinister and proud
He suffered quiet desperation
And hid it between his brow
The movie, epileptic, machine-like and loud
It was a retelling of the Great War
And it drew in a crowd
Jim’s favorite part was the silent scenes
The yang to the firefight and circus
He’d joke and smoke and nudge his fellow solider
Mind without body in a movie without purpose
The film Jim was watching was in
Black and White. He’s seen it before
And I
Was a few rows behind.
He slashed his wrists in his seat that night
Because his body couldn’t live without his mind
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 5:18 PM UTC
They opened their eyes to a rainy day
and even before the thought of sleep had gone away
the call to arms was heard, by all of man
with butterflies they each stood tall
rifles at the ready and with thoughts of home...
and of friends like you
the battle wore on red and cold
each side taking losses for one gained
and friends and lovers they lay slain
and lines they moved on, forward
each refusing to forgive
and the sky grew awfully dark
At home she sits alone as tears fall
with her eyes on the television set
Images of the war sweep across her face
the firefight and bomb's light illuminate
and her mind is on one man...
and out there in the night he is fighting
Through the smoke and night he picks the flight
for each little bird to sing it's song
and he pulls the trigger and paints the sky
and with a prayer he whispers her name
and he hopes to see her face again...
and she is crying
and the rain falls with the shells and the blood
And men And friends And lovers
At home she sits alone as tears fall
with her eyes on the television set
Images of the war sweep across her face
The firefight and bomb's light illuminate
And on her mind is one man
And the rain falls with the shells and the blood
And men And friends And lovers
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
How quick to assume
That the bullet I shot was aimed for you Well my dear
Don't step in front of a firefight
You may just get caught in the crossfire
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
Patrolling the defeated campsite,
As we perform Their last religious rite.
Like a storm, we ravished the dead of night,
Just another toxic waste site.
Every gardener’s delight,
Exit stage right.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
Red flags a flying
I shoot arrows in the dark
Each one tied neatly to arteries
I bleed into the night
And sell away my soul to these devils
I bump into them on the streets
Each one sitting pretty
A God complex weighting their heads to their shoulders
For fear their brains might just lift them away
Their worlds fall heavy like concrete, far from paradise.
They told me I could take solace in their church
To avoid these blazing arrows
They whisper sweet nothings along the gentle summer breeze
While their hands work like razors against my skin
I give myself away once more
That was when I entered the vestry
And found it full of weapons
You told me you were proud of your armour
But I am not proud of mine
Each metal plate melded from the iron in my body I am broken underneath it.
These devils they live above me
Like the plates of my armour they sit heavy,
Constricting my lungs
My head held down under the water
They said it was to burn the sins from my head
I admitted I did wrong
Even where there was no fault to find
I let them keep me down there
As the oxygen drained from my head and the pain took over.
I will not let you take me back.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 10:03 AM UTC
I'm looking for a wild card, a badmash
Not a monster that will want to leave a slash
When i let the troops come into my base to visit
I hope the firefight inside is with passion and not bullets.
Love ups the flames but so does misery.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 1:21 AM UTC
The intellectuals can explain everything,
they have all the answers,
smart ***** in their own right,
they might last about sixty-seconds
in a real firefight.
Well maybe the intellectuals
should go to war.
After all, those are braniacs who invented
all those advanced killing machines,
the weapons of mass destruction.
Just imagine,
just imagine
how dumb
the world would be
without them.
It would be paradise.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
dreadfully into the night, raking
clawing into the black infinity
being dragged away from
the world as you know it
a man of fire
kissing the limitations of faith while his lips
are still wet with lies
face turned and steady
we are alone
unyielding, undying
drifting, but fleeting
breathing, and bleeding
alone, but together
life isn't slowing down for you
you are a speck of dust in heaven's snowstorm
a bullet in a firefight
lost in the flames,
no one will remember
the man who was
swallowed by the sun
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 5:10 PM UTC
One round
In the chamber,
Thirty in the magazine,
One moment makes a lifetime,
Two seconds taken to breath.
Three brothers at my back,
Four wolves in the hunt.
Five miles to ruck before rest,
Six hours to sleep tonight.
Seven days left for another week,
Eight civillians lost as collateral.
Nine houses cleared without incident,
The Tenth is where they're waiting.
Eleven minutes for the firefight,
Twelve rounds taken to the legs.
Thirteen minutes until Medevac arrives,
Fourteen month recovery.
Fifteen minutes left before lights out.
Mag is half full.
Sixteen hours to rest and clean weapons,
Seventeen men play cards in the barracks
Eighteen minutes left during fire guard,
Nineteen year old soldiers miss their family.
Twenty minute call home to loved ones.
Twentyone shots over a white headstone.
Twentytwo streets left to clear before dusk,
Twentythree families bustle in the bazaar.
Twentyfour hours in each day in hell.
Twentyfive men craving cigarettes.
Twentysix reports of gunfire this morning.
Twentyseven combatants killed.
Twentyeight days left in deployment.
Twentynine years old at honorable discharge,
30 family members waiting to welcome you home.
31 days in every month spent in the devil's sandbox.
Click
Mag is empty.
Drop mag
Draw new mag
Load into well
Hit bolt release
Continue fighting
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 4:12 AM UTC
Morning
Halcyon sun
Glorious and radiant
Promising.
The future looks brighter than the sun today
It's blinding.
Step out and burn
Daylight firefight
Shot up
Relentless.
Shoot up
Apprentice
Right hand man
Left arm vein
Swirling
Coursing
Stinging
Burning.
Curtains drawn to hide the truth
Ruthless
The spotlight reveals you
Illuminating the shadiest corners of the soul
The sole reason
Hiding in the daylight
Open the door only to travel by night
No one in sight
Lurking
Slinking
Sinking hopes and crushed dreams
Prosper in the dark
Cold and dead arms hang
Lifelessly.
Long strides
Careful steps
The nighttime attacks like a thief who just pulled you into a dark alley to rob you
Not just of your money, honey.
Out of nowhere and unwelcome
Clammy hands in the eyes of defeat
Hard ground underneath
Thoughts
Creeping
Weeping
Mourning
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
*Fish on stringers begged for their lives
Rattlesnakes came under the front door to hide
Rottweilers growled at the foot of my bed
Blood flowed from the bottom of garbage cans
I was in a firefight from every direction
Impaled by a nurses syringe with fire ants jumping
out of the needle
Closed my eyes to die but kept returning
Faces shot out of walls screaming " burn him*" ...
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
Fire, fire, orange, tall, and bright
Symblance of desire and passion true
When fed by love, potential reach full height.
When we look for knowledge, we learn we knew.
The fire goes out when the clock strikes twelve
the fire's life goes out like the sun at night
Desire found during a dungeon delve,
the fire of life will brighten our blights.
The shock of sadness and grief dims our lights,
makes us worry that we are not alright.
The cold sets in, and reality bites,
the night outs us out, like a firefight.
Our longest lives are fire, tried and true,
we are all fires, even me and you.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 10:13 PM UTC