Gun Control Poems
Bill Watkins (Liberalism)
Second Amendment Wrongs
The right to kill permeates military
spending, uniforms sparkling,
“something to do” as we seek out
and destroy to generals’ and devil’s
cold glaring shout of pride
and approval, the parade going by,
so sharp and sure, knowing
what to do finally, because they
yelled in my ear what I’m supposed
This was years after I neglected Moses
on the hill, or upon returning from
A few tablets or one, or two shouted
easy truth—so it seemed, ten commandments
then a hundred of little laws;
but the commandments, they are still
good. Thou shall not kill is re-written in
1789, ’90 and ratified in ’91 as the Second
Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.
Thou Can and Should Kill, sayeth not Moses
but geniuses like Alexander Hamilton and
Washington, War-mongers in sharp
beating uniforms parading in peace-time
to simple orders.
“... the right of the people to bear arms”
the rally call for NRA and killers all, so fun
at the range or in a video game, paramilitary
or on the front line, get a holster, clean your
weapon, Soldier, time to learn to live
by your gun, die by it too—go to court,
pull out the Second above Moses and God’s
Sixth—plead insanity or “self-defense,” the same
To MURDER as self-defense! “Yes,” the Devil
loves that amendment! “Make more like
that, abandon God, forget Moses, and
Jesus, rabbis and priests hypocrites
the lot of ‘em!”
BOOM, LAPD shoots another in the chest;
the bum was reaching for his vest,
must have been bad—the evil as much
in thinking we know the future as anything
So vain, so sad, we plead the fifth against
the second avoid the sixth and cop
to violence over and over again
at borders and beyond, your own
“The right to bear arms,” defend by
killing—“Justifiable homicide,” the
Devil’s favorite two words, those and
the one known as “judging,” so
“please” the Devil pleads, coerce the
people to go in and judge others!!
Throw out Moses, God—take YHWH,
write it LORD, then bastardize it as
“Lord” without the capitals, go all the
Amend real, ancient and wise law with
the right to bear arms, “right to kill”—
Murder God now!
Or repeal toward peace to Devil’s
frown, the God we kill rising up
to guns and bullets melting down
except for the ones used to hunt
our food, we can change even though
the world cannot.
And this was good.
Right to Bear Harms
AR-15’s and sport, hitting targets
imagining your hate from fear
exploding in space.
Killing as “defense” an excuse
to let our worst instincts express
Rat-tat-tat we get high on the rush,
the perceived power of killing
life, tearing flesh—
I’m not mad at you, I love you
and am sorry we didn’t talk sooner...
wide is the path,
Destruction like math, if you take
a group of ten people probably nine
are having a hard time.
One buys a gun, starts to shoot.
We cannot stop all evil, just decide
for yourself your role;
Good luck but if born of woman
and hard labor rethink your desire
to plug holes
in others born of woman and hard
labor, the answer is love, I’m sorry.
but I love you.
We forgot to love. In loving, fear walks
away, and without fear there are no
Murder is murder is murder is murder.
We murder on-screen, video games
become play things.
God bless us
Shaped and formed by alcoholism, along with a love for politics and service discouraged by age discrimination, Bill had a spiritual awakening in 1995, and has been on the road of truth, creativity and self-discovery ever since. Born in Pasadena, California in 1972, Bill grew up in nearby San Marino until age five. At six, his parents separated—and from then until 12-step recovery found him in 1995, Bill turned to excessive sports and alcohol to compensate for a spiritually void life. Poetry came to Bill in his recovery life, and he founded to self-publish and explore passion for rare poems. His poetry and prose books are being distributed and sold in hope of stirring young people to better lives than his own.