Best Fire Chief Poems


Premium Member Fireman Competition Dragon

Dragon went to the mailbox this morn, 
And he came excitedly flying back, yes, toward the house… 
So Now, you should… be doubly, doubly, doubly forewarned.
Yep! Now, you GOTTA know… We’re in for a LOT of ensuing chaos!

Yes, He had a letter addressed to him… 
With a smile on his face and a letter in his hand…
And what, you ask, had him wearing, such bubbly, bubbly, bubbly grin?
 He’s going, this year, to the Fireman Competition, and held the invite so grand!

By Now, you must know, such excitement, so fine… 
As usual, made his fire to run, run, run… onto the letter in hand…
And that Date, and the Time? You know, that fire? Well… never mind!
Thought this would slow Dragon? No way! He’s ready, now, for that Laurel Strand.

He flew to the Firehouse, lickety- split…
Crashing into the fire truck, giving it a broken axel and 4 tires flat, flat, flat!
Leaving his head, stuck, solidly, through the window, into the trucks cockpit…
Fortunately, out ran the fire chief, to organize the rescue, of our little dingbat…

When NOTHING ELSE would work, all the firemen…
Put their feet on the door, grabbing Dragon, and they pulled, pulled, pulled!
Finally, it took old Grandpa Troll to pull his head out, by taking the door off…
And then breaking the door apart! My! What a day, I must say, THIS had been!

Then next week’s competition was explained…
As a Charity Event to enhance and outfit their old faithful fire truck!
Now a little rescue practice will never, never, ever… it’s ascertained…
Ever be turned down! And Oh My! And Oh Well! What’s that truck worth? 

That is… compared to our klutzy, little clown…
Grandpa Troll donated repairs as Dragon worked it off, day after day, after day.
My Moral is: If great you will be, then mistakes will be made along the way…
As you walk to your destiny, don’t despair; just keep going to your brighter days…

Written By Carol Eastman 5-19-2016

Premium Member The Little Red Fire Truck Ride

Jingle, jingle... jingle 
As we emptied our piggy-banks 
Hoping we saved up twenty five cents 
Every Saturday afternoon, we would excitedly wait
Twelve O'clock sharp the bells would ring 
Screen doors flew open when we heard them
The kids in the neighborhood...
Immediately stopped doing whatever they were doing 
Whether the boys were flipping baseball cards or shooting marbles 
Or the girls were playing Hop-Scotch or dressing Barbie dolls
We all ran to the corner of Craig street at noon
"All Aboard" yelled the fire chief 
"Drop your quarters in the box and have a seat 
Don't worry folks, this old jalopy runs well" 
He was referring to the little red fire truck
It was rebuilt and custom made just for children to ride in 
We cruised the back streets with our hands held high; screaming 
'round every bend...we laughed
Tails wagged as dog's chased behind 
Putt, putt... putt 
"Ride over children, exist to the rear... 
See you next weekend" the fire chief yelled


The Old Jalopy Poetry Contest 
Sponsor: Craig Cornish 
7-22-2019

Dispatchers - the Voices Behind the Radio

Voices Behind the Radio

I have chosen to be a dispatcher, working hard to save a life
It is our job to obtain the information from the chaos and the strife.

We do our best to get the location, and the nature of the call
Each call is always different. Sometime we cannot obtain it all.

A patient not breathing, a burglary, or a traffic accident could be the call
We ride the emotional roller coaster, remaining calm throughout it all.

We give instructions to the caller, while keeping them on the phone
Re-assuring help is on the way, and that they are not alone.

With the units enroute, caller still on the phone, we add notes to the call.
We never withhold information obtained, we gladly provide it all.

The Officer needs the address again, the Fire Chief more units to staging
The Medic the nature of the call, it is our job to keep updating.

When we hang up the phone we have done our job, our units are all Code-4
The calls can be overwhelming at times, Sometimes we would like to run out the door.

We have to be ready for that next call, Police, Fire, or EMS
We rely on our training as we strive to do our best.

We ride with you in your Police Cars, Fire Trucks, and Ambulances to each call
We are the lifeline that sends you out each time, and wants you safe throughout it all.

We are usually the face of the department, and the first to be left out
Those faceless voices behind the radio, you depend on without a doubt.



Thomas Nedzbala
Arizona
©2014


Premium Member The Fire Chief

The fire chief was in a great big tight
Was holding his cheeks with all his might
At the bus station did stop
Cost a dime to use the pot
Now his drawers a pitiful sight  

Long ago my husband worked as a fireman.
They were on a trip to get some schooling.
On the way the chief had a sudden attack of diarrhea.
They stopped at the bus station but they charged a dime to use the 
facilities..He did not have a dime ___well you know the rest of the 
story.....

Fire Alarm

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.
© Tony Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Ar 15 Discovered In Black Box

AR 15 was found in one of the airplane's black boxes

News about AR-15 And Southport, NC

bing.com/news

NC fire department decides to remove AR-15 and other firearms from raffle

WNCN · 2 hours ago

(AP Photo/Charles Krupa) SOUTHPORT, N.C. (WECT) — The Southport Fire Department has decided to pull all three …

NC Fire Association controversial raffle features an AR-15 as prize

WNCT · 6 hours ago

NC despite some calling for the prize to be changed. The Southport Fire Chief said they will move forward with the …

Fire Department pulls rifle from raffle

3 wbtv.com · 16 hours ago

The Southport Fire Department has decided to pull all three firearms, including the Palmetto AR-15, from their fundraising raffle ... Florida, …

AR-15 raffle in Southport still a go despite recent mass ...

https://secure.fox.com/proxy/www.foxwilmington.com/story/32247706/...

AR-15 raffle in Southport still a go despite recent mass shooting 2016-06-17T16:51:45Z 2016-06-17T17:14:52Z. By: Bill Murray, ... SOUTHPORT, NC (WECT) -

NC Fire Association controversial raffle features an AR-15 ...

WNCT
9 hours ago
Jun 19, 2016 · One local fire association will continue their plans to raffle off an AR-15 ... A controversial raffle moves forward in Southport, NC despite some ...

Fire Department pulls rifle from raffle - | WBTV Charlotte

3 wbtv.com · 17 hours ago

https://www.bing.com/search?q=ar-15%20and%20southport%2C%20nc&form=WNSGPH&qs=SW&cvid=dd0aef43103f4ee687413ee3010c5093&pq=ar-15%20and%20southport%2C%20nc&nclid=223510F8277B1497603ABEB8B92AEE3D&ts=1466364453155

Thanks to many people's efforts. 

James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Tattoo

It was hidden below her hairline, across her nape of neck, for her to know that it was there, but no one else just yet.

Younger sister Sophie snuck through her bedroom window. And no one knew that she had gone to party and to dance, to greet, to meet, to drink with friends in Haute Sauverne in France.

Sophie had wisely second thought of riding with the fire chief son, but school friends had allayed concern, all piling in, and not alone, fifteen year old could soon be home, when dance and fun was done. 

The night was cold, the heater on, and and tired young man drove off the road, hard crashing with his precious load. Dear Sophie was the only one, with belt forgot, which was undone. Friend sat beside while they both cried and friend held fast her trembling hand, held hand while Sophie cried, held hands while Sophie died.

Four sisters now are three. There's Jen and Natalie, and then the youngest of them all is known only as Mimi.They lost their sparkle lively one, their dearest sister Sophie.They lost their dearest lively one. Four sisters, though not now alone, four sisters now are three.

And so, some time since shock subsides, though sadness never gone, I glanced those words beneath her hair, those words discretely hid, that parents would forbid if they had shown, if they had known that they were there.

But older sister was compelled to get for Sophie sister gone, those words always remembered yet, in tattoo script on nape of neck, her pleading words to not forget, and which said, secret 'neath her hair, and yet cut deep forever there: 

'wake her up and tell her',
yes, 'tell her that I love her.'

Premium Member Last Weekend I Scoured the Earth For Fun

Last weekend I scoured the earth for fun. I ran the race. 
I danced in the rain. I jumped hoops and ate holly-berry sandwiches.
Then I took my pet Yeti and went for a walk in the park where 
Regular humans without Yetis either ran up or ran away screaming

I had forgotten that some people are afraid of yetis, gargoyles, ducks.
Being fearless, Yeti and I took a dive into the lake. Brr....
We froze our human-toids off, and I did not know he had human-toids.
I painted some murals on my neighbor's face, and I whirled a bit.

The twirling was there for the taking, but it would have been overkill.
I refused to do anything I did not want to do. It being the weekend.
I refuse to waste Saturdays doing stuff that does not make me happy.
Sundays are for lounging in my bathtub until the water stops boiling.

So yes, I did take a bath, with bubbles, and my pet octopus.
The pink one, who is not so prissy, not the stuck-up blue one.
My grandchildren came over and we painted the ceiling 
Not with a mere solid color, but with murals that irritated grandpa.

We also formed a band, planted a garden, and built a tower.
Kansas City had never seen such a tower: we are still marveling.
I am pretending I have no idea who did it, as it ended up in 
The middle of I-70 and there may be a little fine involved.

What did you do last weekend? And it better be something fun.
I only understand joyous, wonderful, terrific, outstanding stuff.
Oh, I almost forgot. I drove around in my fire truck blowing sirens.
I was fined for that, by the police and fire chief. Thanks Dad!

Premium Member Who Is Your Neighbor

Who Is Your Neighbor? 


Forty-seven years we are in this our home of dreams;
youngsters flew the nest to chase their very own sun beams.

We are the oldest on our street among mid-lifers here;
no children's voices, kids on bikes, school buses do we hear. 

Two years ago a family moved in across the street – 
a New York City fireman, his wife and son so sweet.

Our spry young neighbors brought new life; we feel special joy
to interact with them and watch them teach their little boy.

My hubby, retired fire chief, can share so much with the them.
Young neighbors brought the gift of youth to make us smile again.


Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Contest: Who Is Your Neighbor?
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 09/14/2015


.

Premium Member Captain America 10:2

It was floor number thirteen
that Captain America got
but he ended up in the basement
with green-cloaked misfits

Bucky tried his best to find him
though ended up getting his own trap door
they would reunite to battle
enemies galore

Cap exchanged his netting
with one of the guards
and the others didn't see 
what he had in store

Rough 'em up, beat 'em up
Cap and Bucky endured
But the bad guys started a fire
and the hotel burned more

Cap brought the fifth columnist
out to the fire chief
and then he went to give what he planned
a memorable speech

Wagontire Oregon For Poem a Thon

April 6 Wagontire, Oregon 
1973

In 1973, I went on a road trip 
With my father

We left Berkeley to go to Yakima
Where my father had a summer cabin

He was a college professor
And had July and August off 

And we spent the summers
Every summer from 1968 to 1978 

Our whole dysfunctional family
Our annual road trip to hell and back 
As we did not get along at all 

We decided to drive through Eastern Oregon
Just my father and me
Just for the hell of it

The rest of the family was already there 

My father and I shared a travel lust
One of the few things we shared 

This was one of our best trips
We got along 
Which was unusual 

Normally our relationship
Was fraught 
As we were so different 

We left Klamath Falls 
A real nothing burg in those days

And headed east along highway 395
As we entered the desert of eastern Oregon
We entered a different world

High mountain dessert
Almost no one on the road 

Then we saw the sign
Wagontire Oregon 
100 miles ahead

99 miles ahead
98 miles ahead

We counted down the signs 
Miles after miles
As we drove into the gathering dusk

We speculated that Wagontire
Must be a giant truck stop
In the middle of no where

We pulled into the town
Nothing there but a gas station
Motel and café

We decided to stop
Last gas for 100 miles 
According to the highway signs

In the morning
We chatted with the owner

He was the sheriff, the fire chief
The owner of the motel, gas station
The only business in town

And the only place open 
For one hundred miles

I noticed a highway sign outside
Welcome to Wagontire, Oregon
Population 2 ½ humans 10 dogs, 50.000 sheep

I asked the Sherriff
Say who is the ½ human?

My idiot son!

And we left.
200 miles later 
We finally left Eastern Oregon

2016

In 2016 my wife and I drove through Eastern Oregon
As part of our epic cross country trip
10,000 miles
31 states in three months

On the way from Medford to Yellowstone
We drove along highway 395 

The signs for Wagontire was gone
And we drove through the town

The motel was abandoned
Nothing there at all

And that sign was gone too 

I said I suppose the idiot son
Never took over the business

And we speculated about Wagontire
And all other nothing burgs 
We drove through that summer

Heart of Trump’s America 
True fly over country
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Expecting the Best Accepting the Worst

Expecting the Best
She knew she would be a movie star signing autographs.
A ballerina magically pirouetting and preening in the best ways
When she was four, five, and six.

At eight she expected to be a fire chief.
Wearing the red hat, saving lies, climbing into hot windows.
She would save everybody in this world.
Being a professional rescuer. 

She was perpetually upbeat, and positive.
No matter how many tried to knock off her crown,
Even when they boxed her ears and made her sad,
Accusing her of things she would never do,

She retained her optimistic attitude, and 
Expected the best of them the next time.
Always looking forward to finding their good.
Expecting the best.
But accepting the
rest and gracefully.

Her attitude landed her wonderful jobs, 
Gave her a church who loved her, a minion for a husband
Who begged her to order him about.
She never would. He knew this, it is why he fell in love with her.
She was a rescuer, blessedly expecting the best in everyone.
Usually finding it too. 

Her children grew up marveling at their mother's
Ability to listen to others, pay attention, and care.
To do the right thing, and stand up for each and every underdog.
They learned also to expect the best.
They were not disappointed.
Being taught by two of them.

Premium Member Arson not Ruled out

Arson not ruled out as Emco chemicals are being tossed all over the north Chicago cab company on Sheridan road where the contents of the tailor shop was being stored remembering Tony Boloney Anton Goracia North Chicago cab driver the many days nights spent after the arson murder of 8 wow 1984 Christmas Eve history repeating itself march 1998 fire blazes to cover the tailor shop contents amazing how to get away with arson murder of 9 use emco chemicals petroleum camphor the blazer and there you have do you sew the fbi questions what do you know about arson murders payoffs bribes during elections choose your fire chief watch the fires ignite and keep your mouth shut for 40 years eyes wide shut pay corruption I wore wires pregnant for the Fbi this covered up arson murder of 9 persons today I am blessed I survived the car bomb meant to silence me while they try and rule out arson again

President Trump International Fire Chief

Our dear leader
Our favorite President
President Trump
Once again

Interjected himself
Into areas that he knows nothing about
Making a fool of himself 
In the process

Why does he do this?
Time after time
Talking nonsense
It is because

He is the smartest man
In the universe
Knows more than anyone else
And so he feels

He has to comment
On everything
Under the sun
And then some more

Even when he 
Does not know 
What he is talking about
So painful to watch such a fool

Mark Twain had sage advice
If you want people to think 
You are a fool
Open your mouth 
and remove all doubt

In the midst 
Of the devastating Paris Norte Dame Fire
He tweeted 

“So horrible to watch the massive fire 
at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,”

“Perhaps flying water tankers 
could be used to put it out. 
Must act quickly!”

Later, Mr. Obvious noted, 

They’re having a terrible, 
terrible fire,” 

Mr Trump later told reporters. 

“It looks like it’s burning to the ground.”

The French were not amused
By the unwanted advice
By the fire fighter in chief 

France’s civil defense agency, 
Sécurité Civile, tweeted — 
once in French 
and once in English 
— less than two hours after Mr Trump 

sent his tweet 
and appeared 
to directly respond to the US president.

“Helicopter or aeroplane, 
the weight of the water 
and the intensity of the drop 
at low altitude 

could indeed weaken 
the structure of Notre Dame 
and result in collateral damage 
to the buildings in the vicinity,” 

the agency wrote in French.
And despite never posting updates in English, 
the agency then sent out a second tweet.

Hundreds of firemen of the Paris Fire Brigade are doing everything they can to bring the terrible #NotreDame fire under control. All means are being used, except for water-bombing aircrafts which, if used, could lead to the collapse of the entire structure of the cathedral.
— Sécurité Civile Fr (@SecCivileFrance) April 15, 2019

And the French provided
This helpful advice 
To the Fire Fighter in chief

When California burned 
you did not seem to be a fire expert.
 Please, shut up. 
It is a tragic moment 
for the cultural heritage of humanity.
 
april 17 poem for April Month of Poetry Challenge see Writers Digest, All Poetry and my blog, https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for the rest
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Our Town's Old Fire Chief Ron

Our town's old fire chief Ron's a real lunkhead
When the alarm rings, he lingers in bed
   He yawns, then he stretches
   And, of course, he k'vetches*
If you wait for Ron, you'll surely be dead 

After protests got rid of the police
They went after old Ron like angry geese
   They announced they'd attack
   That roused Ron from the sack
The fool grinned, "Hey, let's smoke the pipe of peace!"






*'k'vetches' is Yiddish for 'complains'

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