Raid Poems - Poems about Raid

Oh no, there go the sirens, They’re over’ead again. Take the kids to the shelter, Ma. That ‘itler’s a bloomin’ pain. Night after night for eight months. When will it ever end? There can’t be much left to bomb now. It’s drivin’ us round the bend. But, of course we’ll never surrender; We’re British to the core. And, wiv Winston as our leader, We’ll win this...

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A sudden crash awakens the night. Thundering boots stomp, heightening fear. Little spots of light dart across the room. A half-naked man, bewildered and angry, a wall of blue invaders violated his castle. Pinned to his bed, with a truncheon to his throat, he hears a woman's hysterical pleas for mercy, unaware of their crimes. A singular figure stands tall, self-righteous, demanding their...

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Sawdust on the floor I'm sure you know the place When you walk in everyone stares at your face The barman is busy tonight you wait by the bar Beer finally served outside there is a noisy car Heads now bowed a spare seat is duly spotted A pen and paper come out a scheme is plotted Trouble surrounds...

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Surreptitiously she crept Her way toward the refrigerator Where leftover chocolate pudding Had been stored for eating later Of course, you know how it is In this kind of circumstance First one in gets the goodies There is no second chance Fearing missing out on treats You sneak around late at night Frantically raiding the fridge Scoffing leftovers in one bite Then in the morning suspicions mount Accusations...

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stealthy creeps the mist slips into minds shutting portals doors tempering flames extinguishing sparks silence...

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Raid versus woe Black flag(s) show up on social media platforms when potential homicidal maniac(s) communicate(s) intent to strike with ambush and ready read - able, eager, and willing to embark upon murderous rampage. Prospective killer armed to the teeth usually a young bucking male between ages of eighteen and twenty five wielding, targeting subjects then firing high powered choice powered guns such as: Bushmaster XM15-E2S rifle; Glock 20SF...

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The unmistakable sound smacks of church bells in purgatory -- our family has burnt the last candles in the damp basement crawling with mice. Neighbors offer their flashlight, under the thunderous explosions above rocking the building. Toddlers cry and dogs bark, older women reminisce WWII's horrors which they survived, and will survive again. It's morning again, militias bring hot bread and milk for the...

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The mosquitoes raid The human's palms defend Oh, it's too swift for The palms that cannot fly Slap, slap, slap The palms got one Oh, the palms too are smeared with blood This greedy mosquito Full of human blood Is too heavy to fly...

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‘Farewell’, we thought the Four bade, To the angering crime of Raid, And suddenly they vanished with Brown’s Motorcade, Sprouting disappearing wings! ‘The Four Accursed Things!’ Off with a B-M-W of superb grade, Its color, a firm promise never to fade, And sleekness, a salute to whom had it made … And into the matter stung cops said to wade, Badly wanting their hands...

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a crush with black masks devour frozen red berries ~ cedar waxwing raid...

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They had a sense in being right Listened to those explain their plight Docked inside the sailing ports Going into battle wearing a shirt, socks and shorts On a battlefield called sports Saints giving a Southampton name European football was the game Granted no championship this year Relegation not even a fear Watford teetering keeping...

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(alternately titled ringleader Harris hooligan, Hence, any resemblance between characters port rayed, and living persons purely coincidental.) Claim to fame creating an overnight sensational boom town explained by lodestone of zinc while the town ...

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The drone of bombers In the night sky A wail of sirens From the terrified city Where youth and innocence die. W.A. CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly 2018....

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A trillion ghosts of bugs quietly haunting this ramshackled shack. I only notice them on hollowed eves when I am lying on my back. An entire hive of apparitions— Oh, how empty it looks to the unwise. To be alive on this side— Hallucinating through fire and ultra-focused eyes. I have more friends than anyone I know....

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In Ulzana's Raid, the Native- and European-American concepts of property ownership and rights are incompatible and irresolvable. McIntosh had no illusions about that. He said hating Apaches for killing whites is like hating the desert for having no water. I suspect the movie's not a good source of anthropological data and overlooks the commonalities among human...

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