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"payloads" poems
Hiro, the Kamikaze, Happily lives just over the hill, Sleeps every night quite calmly, So proud of his never a **** Hiro, the Kamikaze, Veteran flyer is he, Flew back from 33 missions, Dropped his payloads in the sea. ----------------------------
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Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Hiro, The Kamikaze
far off the jets are being gassed up preping for launch far off the infantry train in anticipation, for the battle sure to come far off the navy men scan the seas waiting for a blip on the radar far off a marine is receiving shock training and practicing what it is to be dead far off icbms with nuclear payloads are capped their ignition sources itching for flight far off but not so much
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Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 3:47 PM UTC
Far Off
I blow a spliff before I jump off of my rainbow And lately IV been searching for payloads of pasios to take home so witness the paper chase I guess that's that why my father stays gone and somebody gotta get it just for the lights can stay on and mama has a job but we pulling up on the lawn for a car she can sortta pay on and teis no longer there cahrri can only play on that's why I gotta make songs so untilI make my portion I have no mattress to lay on all I want is the green and ill take it without the crayons so mama we're gonna make it I put that on what I skate on
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
something for someone doing something
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
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC
Lethal Armories
much money is to be made it's a lucrative trade this industry does quite well its daily profits do swell much sough after is the hardware buyers seek it here and there the deals for these goods affect the world's many neighborhoods hear the jets flying overhead their payloads of bombs the women and children dread rifles killing people by the score in all areas of the Middle Eastern corridor men in suits sit comfortably they're selling vast amounts of weaponry their kind of business deals in all manner of fatalities the military industrial complex is cashing in on war it is making billions of dollars killing for revenue galore each day death tolls on our planet accrue the arms sellers gaining from the deadly slew
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 9:01 PM UTC
Deadly Slew
Legs like lead, We trudge through Monday’s trenches, Carrying a pack I’m sure weighs too much. We shoulder the weight And push forward onto Tuesday, Gritting our teeth, Feet sore to the touch. On Wednesday, The time falls like shells, Carrying payloads That detonate hour by hour, Until Thursday, When the guns are spent, Cooling their muzzles As they nurse their power. Friday comes round, And finds us alive in the trench, And we’re ordered home To replenish in peace. Of this war we keep fighting We prepare in retreat; The glorious charge For the generals gold fleece.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
The Golden Fleece
The air raid siren sounds through the busy streets People flood out of their homes and rush to the bunkers Children and pets are trampled by the tidal wave of screams It was every man for himself at this hour of the night The hobos and the madmen of the alleyways looked at each other They knew they had no place to be safe from the oncoming terror Rivalries were dropped so they could all enjoy their final moment Together, as the city's outcasts. Together, as a family. Overhead, a squadron of heavy bombers fly over the city Like shooting stars in the night sky - except they don't bring wishes As they pass over the city, they open their hatches Atomic payloads drop out of the bombers and fall to the ground Upon impact, an entire civilisation is wiped out completely. Millions of lives. Decades of work. Lost to the wind. Thousands of happy stories, erased and replaced by one sad poem. All that remains is the shadow of the people, scorched into the ruins.
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 3:46 PM UTC
"Rockets Fall"
It's grey, but it's warm and the people almost all smile and wave as you pass, even the kids. Early afternoon, and the street's still dry, the clouds are too lazy to drop their payloads down on your head. It's a bad part of town, or at least it looks that way. ***** a little worn-down rubbed smooth about the edges and rusting at the seams. But you're an outsider, you don't live here and maybe this part of town isn't bad- not worse than any other part anyway. The clouds are grey overhead- but it's warm- and the people are nice- and they almost always smile and wave as you walk by.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
Notes on 3/11/15
it there was not a shallow mighty as the waters hang payloads fell and footpaths gave to mercy they will never ask whom murmurs softly send sincere this sinking fife and drum of burden's restless hum calling wishing for a storm remember summer and gin and vague brotherhood rising from coma with effervescence (now look what you've done) killer of the noble herdsmen making nightmares should not be this effortless calm brings dear ones in light embraces you remember summer and see it forever rest your lids on that image before darkness supplants tears
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Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 11:01 PM UTC
shame
If only she knew My raven, my dove Has taken the form Of my only true love Like the sun and the moon Equilibrium's force She's my wind and my tide She's my energy source She's the opal-eyed skyline Divine is her power So how do we let down Her flower-haired tower Then pluck every petal And cut every strand Then toss her away Like a raggedy Anne Quick **** for a buck To the coal-mining reaper She screams out in pain But we keep drilling deeper Her willows now weeping Her beauty erodes In each drop of your ugly, Corrosive payloads To her womb of creation Deforming it's birth   When all life is valued In financial worth Why can we not share In her warmth every day Feel this thermal attraction I'm melting away
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Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 1:21 AM UTC
Earth Day