Best Emergencies Poems


Premium Member Bells - the Bell Style

~Bells~
( The Bell )


Bells
I like them 
All very big or 
Small some are very old
Can find them in churches
And in emergencies some too
They just sound happy and sometimes 
Sad


Bells
Are very sweet
And sound very nice
Toll in good  bad times
I hear them  pealing in 
The distance with a nice 
Sound giving time every day and
Hour




Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010


December.13.2015


~Author's Notes:

The "Bell" is a poetry style created by Dorian 
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September,18,2010.
Categories: emergencies, beautiful, happy, sad, time,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Aftermath of Flood

Damaging winds whip and slash, whirling wild, drenching rain,
Roads decimated come to standstill, as gushing floods reign,
Inundating swollen terrains, roiling deluge of a tenebrous day,
As trees bowing to gusting storms; erratically waltz and sway.

Houses naked with roofs blown, now ache, mangled and worn,
Where loss of life, in makeshift shelter, neighbors sadly mourn;
Sharing stories of a sudden event, rushing through the town,
Disheartened life, since torn-down, anguishing in wistful frown.

Danger lurks, where flood waters submerge fallen power lines,
As rivers and tributaries of muddy-flows, float uprooted vines,
What once was a harmonic rhythm, now perturbs pulse of life,
Dawn that rose on a lambent arc, now shudders in sullen strife.

People stranded, anxious for rescue, assess the damage done,
Cars are destroyed, fires are burning, recovery has just begun;
Sirens blaring of dire emergencies, are chasing to plug gas-leaks,
Searching for victims of drowning, scouting the rivers and creeks.

Swindlers are hovering, ripping-off elderly, exacting heavy price,
Hit by the tragedy first, then by the cruelty of defrauding vice;
Some now blame callous humanity, some name it~ an act of fate,
Mired in untold challenges, as remnants-torrent start to abate.
Categories: emergencies, grief, natural disasters,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Life Can'T Destroy Your Dreams

Life’s taken so much from you, but
it can’t destroy your dreams
Tried but was not successful, cause
you're stronger … than you seem

Never spiraled out of control
stayed incredibly strong
Made all the right decisions, 
didn’t do anything wrong

Never wallowed in depression
for years felt, come and go 
Never panicked when it was bad
you just went … with the flow

Confronting your tomorrow's those
realized extremely tough
These challenges gave to God, then
went out and did … your stuff!

You buckled down, drew close to God,
“let go and you let God”
Trusting Him has served you well, through
emergencies … you’ve trod

Life cannot destroy your dreams,
God’s filled your heart with hope,
“Eternity in Paradise”
till then ….he’ll help you cope
Categories: emergencies, dream, future, life, strength,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Four in '99

I was four when I partied like it was 1999.
Didn’t know what Y2K meant—
thought it was a new kind of Ribena.
Mom said the world might end,
so we had fish fingers and Angel Delight
like it was our last supper.
She danced in the kitchen—
hip in one hand, remote in the other—
Prince on the telly,
sky outside grey as school uniform.

She said,
“If the world’s going to blow, we might as well boogie.”
So I did—
in jelly sandals,
on sticky lino,
thinking bombs were just what happened in cartoons.

The grown-ups were worried about computers—
I was worried about monsters under the bed.
Same thing, really.

I built bunkers from sofa cushions.
Told my teddies we’d be safe.
Asked Mom if I could stay up ‘til midnight
to see the sky explode.
She let me—
even though it didn’t.
Instead, we counted down
with paper hats, party poppers,
and a bowl of Wotsits big enough
to survive the apocalypse.

Prince said life was a party.
Mom made it gospel—
taught me the sacredness of silliness.
She sang with her eyes closed,
as if she could out-sing war.
As if dancing could un-plug the world’s doom switch.

And maybe it could.

There was a lion in her pocket too—
fierce in her softness,
roaring through a tinny tape deck.
She had a knowing in her sway,
like she understood what purple skies meant
long before I did.

Now I’m older,
and every headline feels like a countdown.
Still, I keep Ribena in the fridge
for emergencies.

Still, I dance—
barefoot on carpet,
arms full of invisible glitter,
like I’m four again
and nothing bad can touch me
while the music plays.

If the world ends again,
I’ll dance.
I’ll think of Mom.
I’ll play that song—
loud enough to shake the windows
and remind the sky
that we were here,
dancing,
as if forever still mattered.
Categories: emergencies, music,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Bells - the Bell Style

~Bells~
( The Bell)


Bells
I like them 
All very big or 
Small some are very old
Can find them in churches
And in emergencies some too
They sound happy and sometimes
Sad


Bells
Are very sweet
And sound very nice
Toll in good bad times
I hear them  pealing in 
The distance with a nice 
Sound giving time every day and
Hour




Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010




February.16.2016


~Authors Notes:

The "Bell" is a new poetry style created by Dorian 
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000,  on September,18,2010.
Categories: emergencies, beautiful, blessing, celebration, heart,
Form: Shape

Premium Member Car Keys

The day my dad handed me the car keys,                        he also handed me a coin.                                              He said,                                                                      put this in your shoe and never take it out.                      If you need help,                                                        you have this coin to call home.                                      Today,                                                                            all the kids have their phones with them 24/7.                 A great thing to have in emergencies,                              how about the rest of the time.                                        We don't eat together,                                                    we are on our phones.                                                    We don't talk face to face,                                              we are on our phones.                                                    Bell's great technology,                                                  has it gone awry.


Date Written: 2/4/2022
Let's explore digital technology Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Simon Rogerson
Categories: emergencies, dad, people, technology, thanks,
Form: Dramatic Monologue


Premium Member B E L L S - the Bell Style

~Bells~
( The Bell)


Bells
I like them 
All very big or 
Small some are very old
Can find them in churches
And in emergencies some too
They sound happy and sometimes
Sad


Bells
Are very sweet
And sound very nice
Toll in good bad times
I hear them  pealing in 
The distance with a nice 
Sound giving time every day and
Hour




Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010




June.07.2017


"Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see." 
- Mark Twain- 


~Authors Notes:

The "Bell" is a  poetry  form or style created by Dorian Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September.18.2010.
Categories: emergencies, beautiful, blessing, celebration, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member B E L L S - the Bell Style

~Bells~
( The Bell )


Bells
I like them 
All very big or 
Small some are very old
Can find them in churches
And in emergencies some too
They sound happy and sometimes
Sad
0


Bells
Are very sweet
And sound very nice
Toll in good, bad times
I hear them  pealing in 
The distance with a nice 
Sound giving time every day and
Night
0




Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010


July.09.2016


~Author's Notes:

The "Bell" is a poetry style created by Dorian 
Petersen Potter, aka ladydp2000, on September,18,2010.
Categories: emergencies, beautiful, happy, sad, time,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Hispanic Panic

When I go outside and see the homeless, I see one thing,
There are no homeless Hispanics and yet, 
There is a Hispanic Panic amongst those who are paranoid

From the abuelitas selling taquitos to artists hawking cartoon portraits, street vendors were hustling long before the pandemic. But they are being forced to adjust even more due to the downturn caused by COVID-19.

Mexican merchants are struggling to keep their
Food Truck small businesses, LA Street Vendor’s, are not pan-handlers
For goodness’ sake, buy KEEP-SAKES!

In an era where more of our workforce is in the informal economy with zero protections and safety nets for emergencies 
LA Street Vendor Campaign demonstrates how local solutions 
can scale up and reach thousands of precarious workers 
across Los Angeles and beyond.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: emergencies, allusion, appreciation,
Form: Free verse

Runaway Child

When she hurts me
I hide it inside
Secretly feeling like I've died
17 years I been there
How could Tony ever compare
Hospital after hospital
Sickle cell crisis
Real life emergencies
Never once did I leave your side
Now you use tyshawns mom as your alibi
How much more hurt is to come
Keep saying I'm done
At night I lie awake
Trying to relate
Pondering if i can equate
I smile but I'm broken in two
But what can I do
Trembling inside
Wish it was all a God dam lie
Seems like the longest ride
Don't know if she safe or ok
Hope she comes back someday
Categories: emergencies, absence, anger, angst, anxiety,
Form:

Premium Member Poop and Scoop Brigade

A parade requires a horde of supporting cast to put on a show:
Platoons of committees plus cops to control the traffic flow.
But an indispensable element of any successful parade,
Is the ever-viligant crew of the poop and scoop brigade!

A parade ain't complete without John Deere and Farmall tractors,
And a legion of politicians and other such obnoxious detractors.
There's the usual haughty equestrians riding prancing steeds,
Followed by the scoop brigade disposing of equine misdeeds!

Members of the marching bands must be careful where they tread,
Being very alert for unforeseen obstacles that may lie ahead.
But with a crack poop and scoop brigade that is really on the ball,
They can march with resolute stride stepping in nothing at all!

A parade must have silly clowns and a queen of something or other,
Colorful floats, fire engines and classic cars trailing one another.
Some even feature giraffes and elephants plodding down the street,
Posing a special challenge to the brigade but they won't concede defeat!

You've got to tip your fedora to those stalwart scoop brigades.
Without their attention to detail and participation in parades,
And dealing with emergencies without the slightest cue,
Many awkward and stinky situations could very well ensue!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories: emergencies, funny,
Form: Rhyme

Where Have the Old Days Gone

Where have the old days gone - I used to as a child, run out of the door, bye Mum ,then I was gone, no cell phone, no chaperone, bit of change in my cute little purse and I was off running free, playing games, calling on friends, climbing trees.  Back home for tea. Where have these days gone. Now there is a dreary park outside, no phone box, no kids out playing, no one climbing trees. I used to use the phone box and reverse the charge to home in emergencies, now if you find one its 60p or credit card or text messages only or your mobile has no signal or you have no credit! Or no battery.  Where have the old days gone ? On the bus cost me 2p to town, get some makeup, see a movie,  buy some jeans and still have change from 20pound, I'm not that old either. People used to stop and say hello, how are you, how's your Mum. Now no one stops to talk. No one knows my Mum. Jeans cost at least 20 pound and the bus is a fiver there and back. The cinema is closed here and the one in the next town is freezing inside. It also cost around 7pound each. You can't smoke anywhere now either, the cigarettes are dissapearing off posters, people are rewriting history. Where have the old days gone. We used to have a Tv you got up and changed yourself haha, now the remote is lost or it has no battery or you have no signal or the bill isn't paid. Oh and now you have to pay for all your channels, we didn't have sky or computers when I was little. Letters from friends used to come through the door. Now if you haven't got a mobile you cant keep in touch with anyone. Fish and chip shops don't have chips ready anymore and they don't do proper gravy, or peas. Everything costs a fortune now, Fish and chips is like a treat not a meal you can just afford. Now you have to wait for half an hour for it. Where have the old days gone. Kids used to have to behave haha now they are screaming so loud I can't hear their Mother speaking. In the old days we had a community, we knew who our neighbours were. Are we really progressing? It seems to me that we have gone backwards in time to a time where computers have become the giant. Tv is an accepted form of entertainment for the family or to shut the kids up. Going on holiday is a luxury . Banks are closing. Shops are closing. Cctv is normal. Where have the old days gone?
Categories: emergencies, education, emotions, environment, feelings,
Form: Prose

Elegy For the Summertime Dirt Dauber

"Just how long have you believed the
            wasps have it in for you?"...    my psych therapist

He must be new in the neighborhood--
he wasn't told If he builds it, She will come.
Never mind he flies in the fast lane,
(no air controller needed), to decorate her wall
with his devil's daub for a family home
he's planned on high, where he imagines
it won't catch her eagle eye.  But,
there's no site inconspicuous enough,
and she's surely woman enough, 
to climb an eight foot ladder, bearing bucket
and sprays she's been hoarding for days
for emergencies like this.  First, there's
a scrape with the shovel, then Clorox, then 
a Tuffy to scruffy up his unsightly hovel.  
There does NOT go the neighborhood--
he's gone for good. It's out damned spot,
she knows it's hot, but is here to swear
he'll seek homestead elsewhere.

                         for Dr. Ross
© Nola Perez  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: emergencies, nature,
Form: Rhyme

A Second Opinion

Many of us knows what it's like when the doctor gives us bad new
But before we make any decisions a second opinion we often persue
Now society will look at you and then judge you by your cover
But after a second opinion and another look they may then discover
That you're not as sick as they say you are and you're not at death's door
As the healing spirit of Our Lord Jesus the Christ will likely say much more
For when you touch Jesus and not just bump Jesus the healing process will begin
And no matter what's ailing you will be removed like a malignant sin

Now Jesus had went to a home where the people said a child was dead
But Jesus had a second opinion and His healing spirit said
The child is not dead, she is just sleeping
So everyone needs to stop all this wailing and weeping

What people fail to understand is that their emergencies
Does not always require a Godly urgency
Sometimes we have to wait on God to put things in place
So that our situations can receive His infinite mercy and grace
In other words don't throw in the towel you need to keep the faith
To be a witness to the goodness that in your path God will place

An opportunity for a second opinion you need to just believe
That if you wait on the hand of God a healing you will receive
Just don't possess the spirit of disbelief and negativity 
And don't hang with those who'll stifle your desires and God's creativity
And as long as you trust and believe in the Holy gospel
You will find that with God nothing is impossible

A second opinion is what sometimes we need in life
And we will get if we just trust and believe 
In the healing powers of Our Lord Jesus the Christ
Categories: emergencies, assonance, bible, faith, health,
Form: Carpe Diem

The Millions

[This poem took its inspiration from a sonnet by Charles Hamilton Sorley, When you See Millions… The sonnet was in a collection of writing about World War One.] 

Of war I read
The poems, the pain, the countless dead
And when you see the millions…
The millions thrown together in common grave
Of what were battle lines
And now are places paved
With bones and blood and interwoven human flesh
Their lives they gave, it makes me wonder why
All men they flocked together, came to fight and die
Though I wonder even more at how we live
Our dreams, our aims, the things we choose to give
And when you see the millions…
The millions thrown together in common streets
Not soldiers now, as citizens they meet
But in each other sense the foe or spy
Protect the private castles, avert the eyes
From foreign gaze or so as not to see
The other kind of me, one old or poor or not all there
Or just a neighbour’s sad or jealous stare
Of their own accord our hearts and hands
Lay borders, demarcate the lands
And build the trenches, place the guns
The lines of city fences, few the crossing points
Fewer still the truces called, the white flag raised
For emergencies perhaps, for holidays
When we stop being islands, become the sea
Unstitch the private space and melt into the ‘we’
But otherwise, the lonely shadows flitting by
For one or two a tear we could cry
Extend an outstretched hand and warming word
Not snatched away unheard in city rush
That sometimes brings to mind the people crush
Like in the soldiers’ tales, piles of corpses in the way
Just trampled underfoot in war’s indifferent haste
That dulls the finer feelings, steals the taste
Of fellow human beings and fate we share
These streets and skies and yellowed, dirtied air
Amidst the millions lose our individual face
Become the masses, fashion our new place
As atolls, reefs, and endless rocks
No shore we leave for building docks
No room in concrete towers grown tall
The weaving all machine-done now
And we, we raise the walls.
Categories: emergencies, city, loneliness, society, war,
Form: Rhyme
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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