Best Fire Alarm Poems
When all around is darkness
Who provides the sun
When everyone is serious
Who is poking fun
When pollution clouds the bright blue sky
Who brings clarity
Who tries to bring some common sense
To mass insanity
When people kill for a belief
Who is pointing fingers
When bullies push their weight around
Who is the first gunslinger
Who sees the heavenly beauty
In Mother Nature's charm
When the house of cards goes up in flames
Who sounds the fire alarm
When depression comes and pulls you in
Who writes you words of comfort
When they can't think of rhyming words
Who makes up words like bumfort
Who puts their feelings into words
With sonnets from the heart
Who describes a garbage dump
With a color chart
Whose imagination
Can jump from sea to star
Or describe the pungent odor
Of their grandpa's stale cigar
What people share a common bond
Make pictures out of words
It's a talent that we happily share
Let every voice be heard
As wordsmiths we are special
Cause we feel what others see
Let's weave our threads together
Show the world our tapestry
September 26 2016
Categories:
fire alarm, appreciation, encouraging, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
One ice cream sundae
Swirled with whipped cream and a cherry on the top
Sitting temptingly in a tall glass
But you were out of reach
I could see you through the window of the restaurant
Melting away in front of my eyes
Like your life was ebbing away from you
With creamy liquid tears running down the side of the glass
Over time the cherry sank deeper into the velvety fluid
Until it disappeared into the thick goo
It’s blushing red cheek barely visible at the bottom of the goblet ...
ONE fire alarm spoiling one perfect moment
This is a true story – it happened on 5th September!
One contest – Sponsor Rob Carmack
07~09~15
Categories:
fire alarm, food, longing,
Form:
Free verse
A cousin named Chaos have I (he’s not actually my cousin. He’s like my aunt’s stepson, but I guess I can still call him a cousin, right?)
There’s nothing that he will not try (like the day he let all the chickens loose from the coop and they were running like chickens with their heads cut off. Isn’t that an expression or something? Chaos is crazy like those chickens were)
Since he follows no rule (He laughs at me because I try to write perfectly metered limericks and he thinks everyone should just write free and BE free in all they do.)
He got kicked out of school (it was so funny. He set off the fire alarm and all the kids were running every which way, much like those chickens he let loose in his barnyard. Now he is saying he wants to become an anarchist.)
So to anarchy school he’ll apply!
Gosh, he’s right. This limerick sucks. It’s much more fun having no restrictions, just letting my thoughts go anywhere I want them to take me, kind of like stream of consciousness writing or something. Too bad I can’t be all surreal-like, then I might make it into the newfangled modern poetry magazines. Most people don’t even consider limericks to be real poems. DANG it, I feel another one coming on.
Cousin Chaos, I now do hear tell
That you’ve found a new school, so learn well
Your anarchy ways.
In limerick phase
I’ll be stuck while you give people hell.
Crap. Even trying to write like Chaos, I just can’t do it. I just keep conforming to rules of poetry forms like limerick. I just know my cousin will be laughing his chicken head off when he reads this. Yeah, the old chicken motif again. Always relating things together. So much for Chaos! I’m outta here.
Written chaotically last week sometime for contest of same name
Categories:
fire alarm, writing,
Form:
Limerick
Back in my mind a vision I see
Of the loving person who took care of me
When I would fall and scrape my knee
Her hugs would make the booboo's flee
There was a time I scrapped my arm
I screamed and yelled like a fire alarm
But who was there to rub on the balm
The person I lovingly called, my Mom
For the longest time I didn't know her name
But rest assured if I yelled Mom, there she came
She didn't seem to be ruled by a clock
And always had time to pick up a sock
She would always calm me in the midst of a storm
She smelled so good and was always so warm
She loved to laugh but she also cried
I remember it happened, when my puppy dog died
A printed dress that was always so worn
Smiling brightly she'd wake me each breaking morn
Her breakfasts were yummy and tasty and warm
Her apron was part of Mom's dress uniform
When I started to grow and would go out to play
Mom would be there watching throughout the day
At noon she would call me which was always so sweet
Come in little darling, it's soon time to eat
Peanut butter and jelly was the noon time treat
I'd be tired from playing but had time to eat
Then she'd put me down on the couch to sleep
And cover me up from my had to my feet
My Mom isn't home, she was called away
To a new home in heaven where she's living today
I'm sure she's at peace in her home up above
And showering other children with her motherly love!
Categories:
fire alarm, holiday, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
How marvelous that when we bleed,
To staunch a flow with little speed,
If not too deep, no bandaid need.
A miracle occurs indeed:
The platelet, wondrous little seed,
Exposed to air, sprouts like a weed,
Creates a mesh from here to there
It shortly spans, forms little hairs,
And fairly soon is everywhere.
And with our little mesh in place,
The blood cells can no longer race
Out of the wound with rapid pace.
Of course, you say, blood clots in air!
Sure, obvious, but to be fair,
The lungs don’t clot; that’s hard to square.
Perhaps it’s sentient, it knows
When traveling along the rows,
Like capillaries in your toes.
Yet somehow, it detects your harm
And raises up the fire alarm,
And to your wound, the platelets swarm.
In tiniest alveoli,
The blood, in contact with the sky,
If clotted here, could make you die.
But when with lungs, you must inhale,
The complex steps we’ll not detail
Do not transpire or you would fail
To even take another breath,
Or contemplate your last regrets;
Your life would quickly end in death.
So marvellous, so wondrous made!
Attention to great detail paid,
Allowed sometimes, elsewhere forbade.
No chance involved, you’ll not persuade;
Yet once again, it should be said
That we are fearful, wondrous made.
Categories:
fire alarm, appreciation, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
Your mother always yelled at your father to fix the nail protruding from the kitchen floor.
“It’s going to hurt someone someday,” she would bicker,
but your father hid his face behind his newspaper as she spoke.
The nail remained sticking up from the ground,
but you taught yourself how to walk around it
just like you taught yourself when to exit and enter the room.
Your mother’s heavy voice was like a fire alarm
telling you to evacuate the scene and leave your father in the flames,
but there was nowhere for anyone to go---
he forgot to build a fire escape.
She tried to leave hints for him around the house:
A hammer on his pillow,
spare nails in his pockets,
but naturally his fingers picked around them
like playing a guitar.
She had given him all the notes,
but he preferred to play his own tune.
Eventually she had given up on shouting,
for she was tired of hearing only her echo.
Each couldn’t feel the other.
He could not hear her words that dropped like stones,
she could not hear his weightless language of silence,
and you could not speak in a house enclosed with two deaf parents.
One day you came home and saw that your mother’s side of the bed was made nicely
like it hadn’t been slept in for days.
It was cold and stiff, preserved like a shrine.
That same day you went into the kitchen to reach for the phone,
but tripped over the nail emerging from the floor
and went clattering down beside it.
Categories:
fire alarm, divorce, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Picture it.
3:00 AM
Niagara Falls, Canada
We are rudely awakened
by an intermittent buzzing
very loud
irritating, nerve grating.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Fire alarm,” he answers.
We get up, wide awake now.
“Maybe it’s just a drill,”
he says, hopefully.
A disembodied voice
“Please remain calm, please stay
in your room while we investigate.”
The message is repeated at intervals.
He goes back to bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“It’s probably a false alarm,”
he answers. I wonder.
I’m thinking that if it’s real
we’re wasting precious time.
We’re on the ninth floor.
I’m thinking of the arthritis
in my knees, knowing we would
not be allowed to use the elevators.
I get dressed, make coffee,
immediately apply my makeup,
check my hair.
The word is passed along the halls
“Evacuate, evacuate the hotel!”
I grab my purse, jewelry,
camera and poetry notebook.
He puts shoes on bare feet,
exits the room wearing only
a tee-shirt and sweat pants.
The stairs are crowded with people
in various stages of undress:
Fuzzy slippers, long sleep shirts,
flip-flops, nylon jogging shorts
flimsy gowns, satin boxers.
A moving mass, silently descending.
Outside, hundreds milled around,
quietly watching the fire trucks
parked at the curb, motors running,
red lights flashing.
I un-sheath my camera, begin
capturing the moment.
When the all-clear sounds,
he starts back upstairs.
“I’m going back to bed,”
he announces, and begins
the climb back upstairs.
“Not me,” I say, “I’ll see you later.”
I find a chair in the lobby,
sit down to watch drama unfold.
A couple from Toronto had
walked down from the 22nd
floor, she with a cane
(hip replacement surgery).
A young woman from Louisiana
with Aloette Cosmetics,
roses in arms,
waiting for the shuttle bus.
Families with small children.
A bride, whose new husband
had walked off without her
gives him an angry message,
a rude gesture, a divorce threat.
Free Starbucks coffee supplied
by the hotel, followed by a bill,
shoved under the door,
seven hundred sixty-three dollars.
“For three nights!” he rages.
“It was worth it,” I say,
“I wouldn’t have missed it!”
Categories:
fire alarm, adventure, travel,
Form:
Free verse
One dark night the fire alarm was screeching,
Stuffed bag dragging and the cat meowing;
A purse hanging off my neck,
Oh, I sure looked like a wreck;
In the parking lot people were staring!
____________________
April 25, 2015
Poetry/Limerick/Quick Exit
Copyright Protected, ID 04-666-887-25
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Limerick,
sponsor, Jan Allison, Judged 2015
Fifth Place
Fifth Place
Categories:
fire alarm, funny, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
The fire alarm went off
Water sprinklers came on
Near pups will not writeoff
Pups are my obsession
The floor and walls hotter
Dry hot air_no way out
Get faint start to totter
There's crash on door without
Master early today
He will care for me_pups
We can count on him to stay
His love grows in all ways
It's not him crash through door
He spots me; as I survey him
Shiver with pups on floor
He reaches_ touches rim
Container where pups lay
Places in pocket on coat
Fireman works swiftly this day
Concerned person take note
Who's here_need to be moved
Swiftly fireman moves now
To safety takes them improved
Flames leap; gone_ puppy chow
My life_pups was limited
Our time totally up
To be annihiliated
Fireman saved me _pups
My one_ only method
To say to him thanks_thanks
Is loving kiss slipshod
As he pets my scorched flank
(slipshod in this case:careless or messy)
Categories:
fire alarm, animals, death, life, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
My grandpa is a real character; he really is a pip,
He likes the TV commercial where the girls all skinny dip.
You can never see them swimming or on the beach just sunning,
You only see them wrapped in towels but it starts his motor running.
“You know what I’d do if I were where they filmed this silly thing?
I’d pull the handle on the wall and make the fire alarm ring.
They would drop their towels when they ran around trying to get free,
Then I’d come in, the fire chief, and they’d all run to me.
I’d protect them from the flames, give them the shelter that they seek,
And while I helped them into my truck I think I’d take a peek.
In my fire truck full of women wearing nothing but their smiles,
I’d take them to the firehouse but only after a hundred miles.
Then I’d let them out so they could show their grateful gratitude,
And I’d greet each one personally ‘cause they’re still in the nude.”
Then gramps falls off to sleep and on his face we see his grinning,
And if thoughts are as bad as acts then he is happily sinning.
Categories:
fire alarm, father, funny, fire, fire,
Form:
Light Verse
The fire alarm went off at the projects,
but when they got their, no one spoke,
and there was the absence of fire and smoke,
it was just going to be a prank,
and that’s when a crime scene developed
in a project house basement, a dank,
the odor was so bad, it just stank,
it was an unfurnished place,
where an elderly black man
went missing without a trace,
and after completely opening up the basement door,
they found that missing man stretched across the floor,
he was in full rigor, and what’s more,
he was covered by a long sheet
of plastic painter’s tarp,
skin cooked in its own oil and heat,
shoe laces tied to his hands and feet,
and there death and drama would meet,
four homicide detectives and two firemen
stood over the body,
a dim basement with low light,
doing its best to fight off the night,
and they waited awhile,
it was like a nativity scene, Brooklyn style,
not in a manger,
but in a two story brick pile.
Categories:
fire alarm, death, depression, people, missing,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
We’re having a little break from home
and had planned a busy day,
after a leisurely breakfast
we would soon be on our way.
We sauntered down to the restaurant
and were shown to a window table,
I fetched a bowl of blueberry yoghurt
whilst my hubby got a ham bagel
Before a morsel reached our mouths
the fire alarm began to ring,
we hurried to vacate the room
and we hadn’t eaten a darn thing!
A stream of hungry hotel guests
were ushered out of the door,
my tummy started grumbling
I could hear it gurgle and roar
We stood out in the freezing cold
thankfully there was no actual fire,
and we subsequently discovered
it was caused by a faulty hairdryer!
We crossed the road back to the hotel
and returned to find our original seat,
but hubby wasn’t starving hungry
on the way out he’d grabbed a sausage to eat!
5th April 2017
Categories:
fire alarm, food, holiday, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Here Lies the Problem
I can’t believe it! I did it again!
Once more I told the truth!
Each and every time I desire to disguise
Something that should not be told,
I end up in a deep dark hole.
This is not a place I wanted to be right now.
My vision is restricted to only a frown.
From here on out, I swear I’ll be a devout
disciple of the deceiving arts.
She was my girlfriend,
Up until just now. We just broke up.
Two years gone down the drain.
All because of a stupid claim
That turned out to be true.
She asked me if I had any clue,
Whether or not her dress looked good.
My response to her was complete truth,
The dress was too long,
She was bound to trip, and any guys looking
at her would dip their heads to look between her armpits.
After that comment, she waved it aside.
She decided that it was the best that she could possess.
(Though in her defense, she was hard-pressed
to find a small enough dress)
And who would have guessed,
that all the other girls were dressed in their absolute best
Form-fitting gowns and floral crowns.
She cried aloud in distress and bowed her head to look at her dress.
She then turned around and tripped into my arms.
In the process, she set off the fire alarm.
Mayhem followed shortly after.
It turned out to be an utter disaster.
Now it is one day that has passed,
And she just told me our relation is in the past.
I can’t believe that I told her the truth and left.
I Didn’t Lie Because it Would Have Hurt More...
Categories:
fire alarm, angst, dance, emotions, girlfriend,
Form:
Prose
waltz blazing sirens from shores of the frosted tomorrow
just look around and behold everything that makes our souls distant
l’existence est ailleurs! my negatively dear Clementine
in this omnipotent Babylon of boredom whoredom
where our shapes slowly turn shadowless
turning in their dreamless sleep
glide around our glacier home
and we follow the fireflies among the languorous joshua trees
into the land of dandy lions and burning monks
into the tinfoil country of cowboys riding the giant amoebas
feverish orchids on the horizon where the fire alarm is always on
so run & hop on the railroad to false paradise
where we will dance alone and leave footprints in the garden
leave footprints on every rooftop
then walk up the clock tower to the ghost of a friendly lamp-lighter
who will help us from within to banish the darkening
and light up our own dungeons of blood candy splendour
as multiple painted phantoms of Van Gogh’s ear
listen to the foghorn music of pallid depths
in our much adored papier-maché sea shell mansion
our lovely cul-de-sac, stellar and crystalline, vanishing on a rota basis
standing in still life as a crescent groom, as graves on the Moon
opening the frontiers for a cosmis octopus, a zealot, a hypocrite
headless and worshipping the order of the howling iris
which makes our nosebleed grow longer like shadows do at dusk
and that’s when I love to unwind that brass hair
of your golden-haired psyche
Categories:
fire alarm, imagery, surreal,
Form:
Free verse
I'm not smoking today ;
not that the urge has gone away.
It's just that I'm tight and smokes are high ;
but, clothes are cheaper, I won't deny.
I'd like to be known for my wit and charm ;
instead of an odor setting off a fire alarm.
Believe me, it's not easy;
but, with a cigarette, I look sleazy !
I have an image to uphold ;
I'm known to be brave and even bold.
But, those little, white, sticks of fire ;
have always been part of my attire.
Will people even know me now;
without the smoke circling my brow ?
Grit my teeth, gnaw my tongue ;
clean my hair and clear my lungs.
I might even feel brand new ;
and smell like perfume, not fish stew.
So, wish me well, no more Pall Mall ;
and pray I do not have a fall.
For this will be my very last try ;
to say it's easy, is a BIG, FAT lie !!
Categories:
fire alarm, angst, funny, fire, fire,
Form:
Rhyme