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Best Natural Disasters Poems

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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

ONE WORD~

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my veins,
                                   
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night, 
Cool air beneath and above the sea.
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand.
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing.
Up ahead in a virtue distance, 
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-     
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods. 
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality.  
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again.
Twilight, rain stranger than strange.
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture.
"From the red Heaven I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"

Perhaps this venerable moment, will pass slower than slow.
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept, and then decline.
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways.  
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?	
When I no longer value the values of the young.
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart.
They're the voices give and take from our health. 

Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me.
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria….
UNITY! 
YES UNITY! Fantabulously-fantastic!
Always, wanting more than love can touch.

We are living' it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup.
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips.
Prisoners and doers; 
All night…. Too late for a treatment.
Lungs, decaying, evil rats. 
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation.

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________

By; pd

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Erosion (haiku)

Gullies scar brown earth
     Hurricanes bring erosion
          Of both soil and lives

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

What the Eyes Cannot See


Kyoko walks alone in the morning tide, 
comforted for a fleeting moment by salty air.
She feels the same sand between her toes 
as when she was a barefoot little girl, in a time
she felt safe, when the eyes of her mother protected her 
like a suit of armor - before the mighty wall of water, 
the “harbor wave”, towered over her village 
near Fukushima, washing her happy childhood away. 
Her dear mother, her security, her everything
never came home that day. 

Many months later, her father, a local fisherman, 
has lost his ability to cry, laugh or tell her why.
His silent eyes, cold like frost, are dead 
like the poisoned fish he nets every morning. 
In many ways, Kyoko lost both of her parents 
on that haunting day - forced to grow up long before 
the water receded, before the nuclear leak, 
before this new, austere existence.

Night deepens the despair. She is loneliest 
when darkness invades. She prays for the crickets 
return. They no longer sing her to sleep, and the stars
have faded, no longer shining through her open window.
Even the grasshoppers have died…
from restless sleep, night calls her to the mirror 
to find her mother’s dark eyes staring back at her – 
a curse she hopes will one day become a blessing,
a hope that one day her father will look at her again...

With tomorrow, her greatest burden will return. 
She will wake along side the broken-winged butterfly
with her duties in mind. Then, she’ll wear her stoic face 
to the marketplace. Father says he will soon lose 
his fishing boat. She has heard visitors from the city say 
only a fool would eat the fish from nearby waters, 
the same fish she fries most every day. No one knows
the global impact, they say. She hears foreign words
like radiation, disease and mutation while she sells 
the shiso and wasabi root from their garden stand,
feeling fear she does not fully understand but one day will.
She only knows how to survive today…


For Debbie Guzzi's Global Poetry Contest, 11/19/14      

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Children of the Divine Wind

Many times the ocean has saved Nippon, pearl of the sea, an oceanic symbiosis a speck in a fecund see. The dikes of man such miniscule plans to hold back the tide. The throngs, each and all crawl across the thin skin of volcanic soil or rise with in the hump-backed alps of remnant cones. Yet, the sea rises to reclaim its own scour the pallet of man, refine, burnish melt, reform. With pen and sword kanji drawn, samurai born with knife and bone entrails torn, honor tested tested by the hand of He, tested and found worthy. The children of the Divine Wind rise above the tsunami, as one, unbowed.

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

knee deep in N'awlins

tempest stomps her feet
as she shakes her liquid skirt
knee deep in N'awlins

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Himalayan trip-trap-2

Himalayan  Trip-Trap

They poured in,  before the deluge
To surpass the natives in numbers
folks in their  cribs -through-hearse  stages, 
trusting like kids,  a burnished sky,  blue-white, 
a cocktail of the wrong and right,
and the mountains, inwardly  grumbling ,
darkly forbidding…

Snaking it  up  to the high  spots  of primeval Gods,
thro roads,  loosely wrapping the giant, like gray ribbons,
sleeping in structures disputed by the rivers
on  questions of  right of way ,
they milled about, haggled  and  honeymooned, 
peed and  pilgrimaged, at  Badri and Kedar, 
belonging to the likes of Sankaras,  long before
touts and tours  stirred their sequestered worlds .

And the super giant suddenly  fancied a good shower,
with unusually heavy cloudbursts  , landslides 
And down flowed 
decades of filth with silt settling to ceiling heights.
The crowds, local and visiting, clung on to life like limpets 
watching  their kin,  their life’s bearings, settings and links, 
uprooted, tossed and broken,
hurtling down,

Escapees from being buried in debris, 
now cornered in hell,  bereaved and battered,
famished  and  plundered, living and dying from moment to moment
on nothing, save air laced with fumes of rotting death
at the tipping points  of sanity ,  pondering
their turn of fates;
development  vis-a-vis  disasters ; 
disasters vis-à-vis puny mitigation measures
tragedies-in-the-making  vis-a-vis  remedies forsaken;
freak  instances  vis-à-vis  climate changes.
They remain  stranded  , for days on end,
despite the IAF, army men and their copters
( not the other services or their detractors)
risking their lives on a huge rescuing effort.
The natives, rescued or not, stranded for life, though.


@24 jun 2013.    By  :S.Jagathsimhan Nair

* This is about the thousands of tourists and locals remaining stranded in the Himalayan heights for about a week now, with dwellings, roads and bridges washed away/ blocked by heavy rains , landslides and floods.

Sankara  refers to Adi Sankara, the saint of the 8th Cy AD.

Badri and Kedar mean Badrinath and Kedarnath, two important places of  pilgrimage in the Himalayan heights.

IAF : Indian Air Force

For Deb’s 'Referential' contest , referring to the loss  engendered by the Himalayan geography which finds expression, different, though, in the metaphors of Kash's poem, 'My emotional geography', with  ref to expressions  like valley of pain, ocean of sorrow, tearful rivers,foggy mountains etc.

For Giorgio Veneto's Impress me

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Water Wall


As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.


Gene Bourne 
08-18-14


.

.

 

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Remnants

Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years

And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....



Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Blind Panic

Blind panic

There was a warning came one day
It said disaster’s on its way
An old volcano in the distance
It could erupt in any instance

The molten ash came pouring out
As neighbouring village was in doubt
Folk were running to and fro
It seems they had nowhere to go.

Buildings were cracking one by one
Blocking out the golden sun
This thing did turn our day to night
As everyone was filled with fright

As the Earth did turn to lava
Many prayed to the holy father.

Vera Duggan  16 August 2014.





Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

TURNER TIDES

Rampage rumbling water roars dig the shores
Heavy hard they grapple trees and humans
Tumbling turner tides glide no one adore
Frightened humans, they run! Run and run fast!
As they desire to survive ever more
From angry nimbus clouds darkening span
To merry-go-round waves muddy wet skirt
Gnawing so hungry to launch damage pert

Beeping screams a reigning train of terror
Rattling man's safety in viral bellow
The ground shut bullet rush without error
All will see an avalanche fresh fresco
the scathe and cries a full furor mirror
Waiting for hope - the sun's chrome of yellow
Abrupt sea assault bridge to sudden death
Taking all weak and anyone with breath

© O. E. Guillermo
9:48pm
September 28, 2009

*** FROM A DOCUMENTARY I watch about killer tsunami
Sponsor	Giorgio A. V.
Contest Name	Top Gun Poetry - Structured forms - Iambic verse II 
placed 2nd

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

One Wild Lady

St Helens, volatile lady,
Is letting off some steam.
She is seething now with anger.
We know not to what extreme.

I remember the eruption in
The year of ninety-eighty.
That fierce outburst proved her to be
A quite hot-headed lady.

She will not tell what ticked her off.
She gets her satisfaction,
Not from talk or boastfulness.
She articulates with action.

So take your puny instruments
And foolish speculations.
She well may have surprise in store
Beyond all expectations.

Don't tramp on her abundant skirts;
That tends to irritate her.
This lady's incensed enough now,
You're foolish if you bait her.

She's given you fair warning
And if you take her dare
You can't run far enough to get
Her ash out of your hair.

By Joyce

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Earthquake


Earthquake ominous, tragic crumbling, exploding, mocking destruction, ashes, horror, shambles, ruining, flagging, pulverizing unmerciful, belligerent tremor Diamante Poem for Regina Riddle 11 Nov 2014

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Black Moon Rising

Black Moon Rising

a black moon is rising,in the sky of day
the end is coming soon,troubles here to play
he only brings grief and pain for his advising
perhaps the end of days,should not be surprising

hurricanes are blowing,bringing death and loss
volcanoes boil, burn the soil,the earth do they emboss
earthquakes shake,tsunami make destruction on the coast
ozone's thin,ice caps melt,the oceans die the most

wars do rage,one eye is taken for an eye 
nations mass all the weapons they can buy
nuclear arms,stock piles grow,poison gas is made
borders crossed and life is lost,everyone betrayed 

plaque and famine do exist,in land too poor to pay
backs are turned and cries are spurned,they can only pray
pollution rains on poison lands,our water is not safe
now as the sun burns down,we all will surly chafe

natures way is,as she will,this we cannot fix
we need to stop destroying her and playing all our tricks
man must help,every man,and stop the useless war
learn to live together,forget about the score

the earth is a special place,the only one there is
we all need to live in peace,without mine or his
the earth is,one round ball,we all must live as one
make this a garden world,revolving 'round the sun


Robert Gene Stoner Jr ©
11/11/14

Contest entry:I Love Rock N' Roll
inspired by:
Bad Moon Rising-Creedence Clearwater Revival-John C Fogerty-April1969
Place #4

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

THE HILL

On a bright sunlit morning, washed brilliant with clover,
the day was alive with complacency, as color.
The day had no reason to quiver off course.
A cat in a tree, was stalking a bird,
and people were rising, to go off to work.
No one was thinking of nuclear things.

Below, in the trenches, a watchman has wandered,
checking a gage, or turning a page, of a manual's cover. 
He scratches his head, and ponders a problem,
wondering how numbers could be out of order?

His heart rate goes up, his blood pressure rises.
He is wise enough, adding up, and soon he's alarmed!
He sets off the buzzers, but knows much too late,
the tremor he felt, was not of his own.
But instead, is the syndrome, we've always ignored,
That something horrendous.........Oh, my God, what will come,
of the innocent families who live in the zone?

People arising, beginning their day
who scurry their children, in a rush off to school.
and husbands who carry a lunch in their pail, 
punching a time clock, to work at the mill.

Just an ordinary day, in the lives of the men,
women, and children who live 'neath the hill. 
"The Hill", that will bring them the end of the world.

Living their lives, on a tightrope so thin,
daylight begins, but how will it end?
A tremble so mild, invisible wave,
has seeped from the waste, with a radiant hand,
to swollow landscape, and burn with the sun. 

As heart rates get higher, blood pressure rises,
the tremor we feel,  is now that of our own.
Oh, my God, what becomes
of the innocent targets who dwell in the zone,
men, woman, children......who live 'neath the hill?
"The Hill" that will bring them the end of their world.



___________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: Global Poetry (Nuclear Leak)
11/26/14

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Thunderheads

O, boisterous clouds,
Why do you pout on high?
With friction so among you,
Will lightening too,
Not soon cross the sky?

In bumping heads,
You cause the thunders burst
Then in your sorrow weep
And once again your tears,
Quench earth's thirst.

I stand alone surveying aloft,
Your strength and might.
But then like curtains,
You're parting once again,
For God's sunlight.

Seeing a rainbow hanging,
In a distant portion of your sky.
I need not ask the question,
Where do you go
When not in sight,. or why?

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Whipped


Watching the trees 
get whipped by wind and rain,
      I thought of the birds

of falling nests 
and    
broken wings,

why are there none 
at my window today?

Yesterday they were here, 
when the liquid curtains fell

Let them seek shelter here.

I hear them distantly, 
and pray they are well,
braving gust and water,
far, far stronger 
than me. 




08212013100.202

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Cash Gone in Tax

Cash
Slashed by
Uncle Sam
Hard earned wages
Burned as income tax
Cash gone like blowing wind
Tax is not like sweet vermouth
This is just like pulling hen’s tooth
Tax going up, paycheck going down
Tax man leave us alone—we need a break!

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Won Honorable Mention
Etheree Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietirch
June 20, 2010

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

THE LAST DAYS

The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
 
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
 
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
 
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
 
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Eat Pray Love

On the edge 
of the evacuation zone
Miyuki holds her daughter 
tip-toeing in pink sneakers 
her small hands fragile 
blossoms opening
to the man with the beeping wand 

They were outside in the karesansui 
washing and raking 
rocks, when the school 
heaved, convulsed 
then pressed into silence
one-hundred-and-seven 
voices rising inside

So now they wait with strangers
in ordered lines of sorrow 
for bread and drinking water 
as an adolescent, eyes downcast
sees the small pink laces and
offers up his only ration 
of precious onigiri

Hooded and white masked they walk 
three days and bed-less nights toward 
Ishinomaki by the ocean
to family, friends, and home forever 
transformed 

The landscape jumbles unfamiliar
with plastic wreckage 
and automobiles 
detritus flooded in a field
where Japonica once grew
while moon-suited men 
and women gather
albums for the living

And after sunset Miyuki moves 
her little girl away 
from a white-taped blue-bagged 
lifeless form 
toward the humming black-robed Monk, his
prayers for light 
and workers burned
exposed to radiation ten 
thousand times too high 

And in the shadows one old man kneels
beside a fetid pool and scoops  
rice to carry back to neighbours 
moved to higher ground, un-opens 
one last bottled spirit
bows his head and offers
Miyuki and her first and only 
everything  he has 

At last they reach the shelter’s glow
beneath the starless robe of night 
not used to wearing 
shoes indoors
Miyuki helps her daughter fold
sheets of painful news into
an origami box to hold
her last and only pair

And in the morning as they face
the stretch of road for home 
to unknown love and losses there 
they turn and gaze toward the east 
awaiting still 
spring’s warming breeze 
to rise with brilliant red once more
new light of wondrous dawn 


      ~~~~~~~~~

'karesansui' is a Japanese rock garden or 'dry landscape'.  Rocks are often washed.
'onigiri' is the emergency rice being distributed to survivors in Japan.
'Japonica' is a type of (short-grained) Japanese rice.



for Debbie Guzzie's contest, 'Tribute to Japan'

by ~Soulfire~ 

 

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

STORMS

Fierce wind fans aghast! energy release Somber clouds aggregate longing deep cry. . . Rocket to train slam-bang sounds reign the skies! Acid bitter sky tears aged litter wry! Boogie titanic waves contest to flee! Lightning rocks like disco lights vivid trance! Giving birth to fearsome galore of storm. . . Minutes to hours brisk growing heavens' arms; Strongly ravaging placing things to harm Elevating flood seeping so expanse. . . Fascination gone, as groans and moans dawn ~ The storm brought death and stormy crashing thoughts, On humans and non-humans failing trot. They all tried to hold, tried harder and fought. . . Sun shines lightening the skies, hope steps on!
(c) OLive ELoisa 6:27pm June 28, 2014 CONTEST: STORMS SPONSOR: SHADOW HAMILTON placed 2nd.. to God be the greatest glory.. :D!

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Deaf and Gone

I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...

       Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed, 
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
I'd say,
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised. 
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate?  If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us. 
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow. 
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you. 
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep 

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Rising from the Ashes

RISING FROM THE ASHES

Wordancer


The eyes of the dragon seen through the trees
Mesmerize minds and cause bodies to freeze.
Which way to go, which way to turn;
No time for questions when the trees burn.

Just jump in the cars and flee towards town
But the road is cut off as the wind swings around.
No way to go, no way to turn; 
An acceptance of fate, as the trees burn.

The fence of the paddock does not impede
The scorched car that flattens it, picking up speed
Away from the flames, away they must turn
Desperate with fear, as the trees burn.

The breath of this beast lights fires with no flame
The heat of its breath burn all just the same.
It’s tail flames on, it’s head, see it turn
Back towards town, there are more things to burn.

With fire, smoke and tears these folk have learnt
To rise from the ashes; spirits singed; not burnt
A call for assistance, now the schools turn 
To grey squares of ashes; and more townships burn.

The calls went out across this wide country
And the offers came from all and sundry.
What do you need? What can we bring you?
They were told, so they went; what else would they do?

Hand towels, toothbrushes, soap and shampoo
To clean away ashes; the soot, and tears too
Through fire and smoke, these folk have learnt
To rise from the ashes; spirits singed; not burnt

The towns’ people will labor as long as there’s need,
They’ll listen and learn and plant as they weed,
While their houses and schools, fire stations too,
Rise from the ashes, and stand good as new.  

The February Dragon has left for a time,
But hope that heals the scars in the minds
Of the people there, is strong and alive,
They have rebuilt their towns, their dreams and their lives.  

© 

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

City of Dust

Trouble
Raises its dark head
Breathes on a naive World
Beyond the Night of our indifference
Will any of us remain
Is this a repeat of The Story of the Flood
Yellow Fog 
the envelope we breath

History, Where it Ended
No life in The City of Dust
It's Coming along, in the blink of an eye
What I am seeing Doesn't make Sense
No Connection to natural laws
We ignore
We destroy
All that is left is ice
A Winter Scar
Ghost Limbs left in a pile
No one left to sing Simple Notes
No one left to cry

Poem written with the Track names From Chris Ho's new CD "City of Dust
Check out Chrishomusic.com my wife's nephew, very talented guy from Victoria.

Details | Natural Disasters Poem | |

Demonic Noise

 UNSUPPORTED CODE 


tsunami commands 
mother earth to tremble --
demons unburied

blue skies of water 
pour out devastation --
crashing tears thunder

thunderous booms of
explosions in aftermath --   
resilience conquers



By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, March 9, 2012
for Nature the Destroyer contest (PD)
first place