What's in his pocketsssses?

Wake up in the morning, get showered and dressed
Before venturing out, some essentials I grab

A folding knife, a PDA, a pen, some chewing gum
My camera, a wallet, keys, and a holster with a gun

You ask why bother with the gun, in our day and age
When hardly any dangers lurk and life is pretty safe

This life is safe in part because we stand prepared to fight
And thugs, who wish to rape or rob, mind the heavy price

But let me grant that you are right, this land is not at war
We carry guns but don't expect to fight some hostile horde

We'd carry still as badge of rank, of status as freemen
For being able to go armed sets us apart from slaves

Very good sir!
Especially ...
For being able to go armed sets us apart from slaves

Very nice bit of poetry with a profound sentiment. Sounds like it should be set to music!

Great work, Oleg! I too like the last line.

For me, it's a seatbelt.

Or a vaccine..

That, and the fact that juries are cheaper than pallbearers and pine boxes. And have you priced flowers lately...?


Good stuff, sir.

Wow !!!

Thats the first time I've ever read poetry in a gun forum.

I'm not imagineative (sp)? enough to try.......

mike

I held the heavy, martial shape and wondered what it was
And how it saw my progenitors though long-forgotten wars

It's barrel was long, stock worn and dark, but a musket it was not
And though it looked industrial, to World Wars is didn't belong

The thick suppressor made it look like a drug war ninja tool
But the coaxial plasma barrel postdated those murderous fools

It was a standard rebel arm, same as the army used
In the year 2064, during the Civil War, part two

With it the land was laid to waste and many perished then
But we won freedom by force of arms, our honor was reclaimed

We learned back then the heavy price of things doled out for free
Which we ourselves were forced to provide at a bayonet point or three

We learned that the state is never a friend, like rings from a Tolkien tale
That freedom to live as we see fit is worth more than a gilded cage

And that it would be too late someday, the boot would grind the face
That giving up arms is giving up hope, forfeiting that last fail-safe

So the war was fought and the freedom bought, with sweat and tears and blood
And this weapon hangs by the fireplace, reminder of the price paid once

Lots more in http://www.olegvolk.net/texts/?M=D (political verses, short stories and verses for friends all mixed together.)

Excellent stuff

I have one problem with the first bit of verse.
We are at war, and have been since September 11, 2001.

hehehe.. you should get Skunky to do some banjo music for it..:D