Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Weapon

    “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones” — Albert Einstein


“People often ask me how I feel about my invention being used to kill people every day and the AK being a common weapon of ethnic conflicts. I want to make it clear that I created my assault rifle to protect my country. You can blame politicians for its spreading out of control on a global scale.”— Mikhail Kalashnikov

Midweek Motif ~ Weapon

This journey of weaponry from knapping stones into desired shape - to - this age of RDS-220 hydrogen bomb has been unique. The aim is either defense or offence. It’s interesting to know that Crossbow was once considered so barbarous that it was prohibited as a weapon hateful to God and unfit for Christians. Sigh. We’ve traveled a long way from there.

Our Motif today is Weapon. To quote Malala Yousafzai in this context, “Let us pick up our books and pens, I said. They are our most powerful weapons. One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world.”

Weapons are varied; in fact anything can be turned into a weapon if the user wills. One can Find one or Be one. Now, what do you say?

The Furious Gun
by Thomas Wyatt

The furious gun in his raging ire,
When that the bowl is rammed in too sore
And that the flame cannot part from the fire,
Cracketh in sunder, and in the air doth roar
The shivered pieces; right so doth my desire,
Whose flame increaseth from more to more,
Which to let out I dare not look or speak;
So now hard force my heart doth all to break. 

Dream Deferred
by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode? 

by Countee Cullen

Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, 'Nigger.'

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
That's all that I remember. 

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—
                (Next week Susan’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Moon)


  1. Thank you for another interesting prompt

  2. the Countee Cullen poem disturbed me when I first read it years ago, and it disturbs me still--as it is meant to do.

  3. How insightful your selection of poems is today--not the usual suspects! I noticed that I hesitate to put mine up at FB last night, for fear it might offend a dear brother. And I thought I was brave!

  4. I just lost my grandfather recently, and I've been going through a lot of emotions since then because I could even not get a chance to see him on his last days. I've written a poem to let out my emotions, and I'm sharing that with all of you today

  5. Thank you for this inspiring prompt Sumana.
    Countee Cullen's poem is disturbing - the words will stay with me.
    Anna :o]

  6. I tried to leave a comment with my tablet so sorry if there's 2. I wrote my poem yesterday and thought I'd link first but you put up the prompt early! I went a different way with this prompt. I hope everyone has a good Wednesday!

  7. Good Afternoon, Poets! I'm pushing myself while off my sick-couch to address the midweek motif! Thanks, Sumana!

  8. I am late to the party....has been a busy week, what with a tsunami evacuation, and Sebastian being here and keeping me hopping. I will try to put something together now. Thanks, Sumana.

  9. Well well I love the deferred dreams and incident poems a lot. Thanks for compiling such good works!

  10. Hello! I've just joined. Glad to be here... seems like I've got of catching up to do!

  11. Hope everyone is having a great weekend. I am late but here and glad to be.


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