Firefighter poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best firefighter poems ever written. Read all poems about firefighter.
I saw a lonely cloud one day.
It looked small beyond the Bay.
I tried to find a second and failed,
even though I looked each way.
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February 2019 Showcase Of Poems From Here & There …[ Sharing Poem Hunter Poems With You! ; Topics Are: " Lonely "& "Butterfly" & Assorted Others ]
When I have had ‘bad words' with the one I dearly Love,
thoughts of loneliness may {at my injured mind} Shove,
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Introductory Poem:
It's October 29th and I'll stay up late to share with you
several P-H poems I've enjoyed, not just one or two.
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Jeffrey Boyle was a real fireman.
I wish to it clear to you that you would understand;
Jeffrey was a fireman when he off duty being a fireman.
Jeffery, a 25 year-old veteran of Chicago's Fire Department, was an arsonist.
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Mother, mother,
You are the wonder.
Mother, mother,
You are there
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Come one, come all. Well, not quite;
only those who have the poem 'bite';
that is, those who like poetry to write,
or at least to read it when it's …..in sight.
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1. 'Eat Shit And DIE! '
Long ago I heard the expression 'Eat shit and die! '.
I don't recall who spoke, and I don't recall why.
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Merry Christmas
Shoppers, and
Poor women and poor men
With wallets
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I am remembering holding this book I am holding now,
reading this poetry book I am reading now, and remembering
how I would read this poet in college. Occasionally, maybe rarely.
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The firefighter's stories hold many sad memories
The lives that they save is immeasurable in value
They work round the clock to save the nation
And they do their best to protect us from tragedies
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As a firefighter is my mother,
She might climb my ladder,
To fight my fire by water.
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Matt came home after a 72 hours camp, he was tired,
He throw his bag a way, ding…dang…Dong, …it felt on the bed
He said: mom, what do we have for lunch?
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Skunk From No Where
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A Firefighter’s Nightmare (Senryu)
California’s drought
A firefighter’s nightmare
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don’t ask me what’s it all about
no platonic ideals about love
and birth of love in myths and fables;
or discourses about marriages made in Heaven
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I been looing all around
trying to loose my brain,
been looking for all sorts of love
to just say im crazyin love
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Robert Portella is a cherished hero
Everyone certainly agrees
He is a New York firefighter
And takes his job very seriously
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I went to work.
Just another day.
I didn't know it would be my last.
Remember me.
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The firefighter was my husband and he was of the best.
He was great, he was loved and I was truly blessed.
I was a stay at home mom who took care of our infants.
Who got great gifts and felt so loved every day and more for birthdays and christmas.
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Got eyes can't see it from the past,
Got a mouth there's nothing to shout,
Got emotions, playing poker,
Why so serious says joker,
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I make my way through these hollow walls, plunging for a glimpse of light I keep seeking. Darkness blots shapes and colours, incontiguous smiles and voices echoing.
'Make me happy, make me happy' they need their fare while watching me with a continuous stare. Wings I had, which now have broken and something persuading me, my mind has awoken.
I move and dance yet I'm motionless making sure I keep sane. I murdered my daughter and stood not bothered. Yet she haunts me in my dream saying 'goodnight, I love you father.'
I'm a firefighter, I fight these fires. Flames shape silhouettes that give me a struggle.
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Alarms are puncturing
Alarms via firefighter
Firefighter from the way
Firefighter under fire burning
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Introductory Poem:
It's October 29th and I'll stay up late to share with you
several P-H poems I've enjoyed, not just one or two.
...
I wasn't called to be like you
Or to be like my sister Sue,
I wasn't called to be like my twin
Only to look like my kin,
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Now playing harmonica, a firefighter, musician extraordinaire,
a celebrity in our lives, establishing the entity of all beauty
as it floats and drifts into clouds trailing above.
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Over there in the trenches stands a medic and a nurse
They have seen the bad and the worse,
They have been kicked, punched and also cursed
While help and comfort they have faithfully dispersed,
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Poem on Twenty third of April Kids day in Turkey
Though there is a huge sunset everywhere
Our stars grow each day shiner than ever
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Go tell them that ought to have given you light
That no matter how much a time they change their names
They remain to us a symbol of deep acrid darkness
Wolves in sheep clothing will always be wolves
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