Long Evacuate Poems
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Irma Sunday Morning
By Franklin Price
9/10/2017
It's a beautiful Sunday morning
In this North Carolina place
Watching Irma on the TV
As She's continuing her race
Our niece from Florida's with us
Wise to evacuate
Arrived here just two days ago
Today would be too late
Our daughter's here on Face time
With her daughter and her spouse
The effects of Irma's not yet there
At her central Florida house
Irma, the one eyed cyclops,
Is watching Key West town
While she's huffing and she's puffing
To blow some buildings down
She's searching for the foolish
Who have stayed and hunkered down
I'm praying she won't find you
She's a demon, not a clown
She soon will leave this tourist key
Not there just standing by
If you're any place in Florida
I pray you'll not see her eye
Supposed to hug the west coast
Looking for a place to go
Around her eye are winds and rain
Larger than Florida you know
Don't go out and look around
As she further ventures forth
We don't know she won't wobble
As she continues heading north
Don't be dumb sand foolish
Hunker down and you won't see
Your body getting blown around
Like dumb reporters on TV
Breath expelled, sound shaped,
words uttered, issued forth.
Aim, intent, lurk within,
plain or thinly veiled.
Waves crash on listening ears;
some or no effect results,
some or no response.
Undergirding all,
a proposition,
a statement true or false.
"Fire!" called out in a theatre.
The building burns;
evacuate now!
Many will get up,
walk out,
and be saved.
The building is or is not on fire;
a hero or villain is disclosed.
The Father reveals.
The Son conveys
through gracious acts.
The Spirit opens ears,
hardens hearts.
If Jesus is hauled,
sputtering and drowning,
into the boat,
does "Fear not, I am with you!”
engender faith?
----------
Contemplating the role of narrative in the gospel
Hunker down folks, this storm is a big one,
Urgent warnings of danger prevail.
Rushing to gather all supplies needed,
Race against time to prepare for the worst.
It's getting stronger, moving closer....
Continuous rain falls, flooding streets,
Angry winds roar and destroy.
No one is safe in the path of this beast.
Evacuate if you can.
Michael came calling one October day.
Intense and aggressive he pounded the coast,
Chaos and devastation he left in his wake.
Homes were turned into piles of debris,
A heartbreaking sight for all to see.
Epic destruction for miles around,
Losses so staggering, yet faith abounds.
The Unwanted
I walked in the forest near the village
I wasn't feeling well, my stomach extended
unable to evacuate for days
Suddenly it was time
Sat under an olive tree for a while, got up
relieved, but when I turned to see
I saw a perfectly form baby made of bodily
waste, a bronze statue
I had seen this being before in a grotto, in
the Athens of a baby looking like Jesus in
his is a crib, who opened his eyes and grinned
like the devil, several nuns fainted
My baby also opened his eyes and made vulgar
sign and grinned
I fled the scene
What else could I do, take this contamination
hug it to my chest, wrap it in a blanket
take it home, clean its sin, beg forgiveness
for murdering a baby
Those New Gods
evacuate the violence
simulating patience
they were once created
to guide us, they overtook us
snapped our heads off
every time we thought of violence
Those New Gods
came to reconcile us
with the act of servile silence
we lay down let them take us
like we were beacons
hearts captitulated in black boxes
without god heads or sirens
Those New Gods
with voices like cured codex
placed us like cellos
between steel tight legs
we were smaller violins
our bows vaccuous and vain
crushed on Love
from the Tree
we were plucked
divineless
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Detailing delicate defecation debacle
Otherwise wordily titled: pooped out
after pouring bucketfuls of water into
place of ablutions
all the while skipping to my loo
umpteen times courtesy bathtub faucet
turned toward hot temperature
so toilet would finally,
magnificently, and royally flush.
As ofttimes occurred in the past
anonymous reader's time
I once again promise to waste
concerning asinine verbiage
without this bard **** feeling shamefaced
broadcasting his fealty
to posterior predilections must appear
(as rearing to volley rebuttal
against fans of mine) yours truly
ofttimes discusses that byproduct,
which issues out buttucks) narrow-based
if not downright banal, gross, offal... in haste
to craft something more philosophical
how craven potty talk
whereby theme doth self debase.
I excreted a bowel movement
moments ago today April 11th, 2024
at approximately two thirty post meridian
substantial enough to sink battleship
(maybe ye experienced tsunami after effects)
laboriously dumping bucketfuls of hot water
insync with applying plunger found me a drip
with perspiration, and would have possibly found
site manager and/or maintenance man to flip
(a rare sight to behold
worth inconvenience of clogged toilet bowl),
which yours truly felt strain in back muscles
as he poured bucketfuls of water from his hip
accidentally splashing water
on bathroom floor
yes your honor
(necessitating poop deck to evacuate)
if thee choose to sit in judgeship
but please be mindful
to restrain giving me any lip
cuz atypical dilemma I figuratively did nip
in the bud, yet foresee similar outcome
sure as this...
once upon a sage, rosemary and parsnip
herbaceous generic fellow sought readership
ideally landing webbed wide world trip
heralded all along as a V.I.P.,
where fanfare for this common man
enjoying Appalachian Spring,
would find his doggerel
induced listeners to yip.
California and Colorado are burning up.
Millions of acres gone, wildlife displaced and misplaced.
Sixty people are missing. A one year old died yesterday.
The sky is fierce, orange red, a hostile warning to evacuate.
Why didn’t they leave sooner? We ask when we hear the horror stories.
They were optimists, hoping things would get better, of course.
Optimists sometimes stay too late, hanging on to hope, role modeling.
It is terrifying to me that California and Colorado are both on fire.
Boggling my mind for what else do we have to endure?
The corona virus was not enough? Unbelievable.
I see the orange red sky, and I decide what I must take.
Hoping I will not take so long packing that I cannot get out.
Like so many others who waited too long.
The Hurricane was Harvey
By Franklin Price
8/31/2017
The hurricane was Harvey, what an unassuming name
Left the western Yucatan. across the Gulf he came
Building up his power to a category four
Slammed into the Texas coast with wind, and rain, and more
Coming into Rockport with winds one thirty some
Evacuate or hunker down, to damage he has come
He leveled many buildings, and shut the power down
He sent his rains to Houston, to sit there and to pound
Houston, a large city, fourth largest in the land
Rained so hard, in hours, was no dry place to stand
Rained a record fifty inches, that's the Roman numeral L
Overflowed the bayous, made life a living hell
Few had evacuated, of six million people plus
Would have been impossible, a traffic jamming fuss
Bumper to bumper everywhere with auto, truck and bus
Would even make the best of us, wring our hands and cuss
The water rose, it did not stop, covered roads from fork to fork
More area than the cities of Chicago and New York
No one quite expected Harvey to sit and pour
Until the first floors flooded and headed for the second floor
Water, many places, flowing fast and overhead
Rescue workers needed or thousands would be dead
Boats and trucks and copters came to do the work
Reminiscent of the rescue, of the soldiers, at Dunkirk
The heroes came from everywhere, left their families and friends
To risk their lives for others, and the rescuing begins
Hour after hour, from rooftops, trees and cars
Stranded ones were rescued by strangers from afar
The Cajun Navy from Louisian, the governor called the guard
Florida sent their Fish and Game, rescuing long and hard
Soon more than thirty thousand were brought to drier land
Rescuers so exhausted that they could hardly stand
Still they kept on going on helping all of those in need
And took them to the shelters where they could sleep and feed
Some died in the effort, not all in need were found
Some rescuers gave their all, and no longer are around
This is what life is all about, the way that it should fall
We should respond to others' needs, for the better good of all
Think about your fellow man, in all you do and say,
Don't be the Harvey victim, be the rescuer today.
BEAUTIFUL BEACHES, A Letter to Daniel
By Curtis Johnson
Hi Daniel,
There once was a man living high on a mountain whose name was Harry
Mt. St. Helen was threatening to blow its top, and everyone started to worry
Harry had been there 60 years and thought he would live on to tell his story
So after being warned to evacuate, Harry refused and decided to tarry
Sadly, when the volcano blew, Harry was later found in 40 feet of ashes
It’s interesting at times, that life can be so tame, so sweet, and so calming. Because of our positive experiences, we relax and enjoy seasons so charming Like Harry, we are unconvinced of danger, and need not fear rumors and warnings
Sandy beaches on the oceanfront are beautiful and lots of fun, when all is sunny and bright. For eight years my family and I lived in San Francisco within four blocks of the Pacific. Believe me when I say that the Oceanside is a calming and charming place. We spent lots of time in the Golden Gate Park and on the beach.
One Sunday afternoon, my two small kids and I took a walk across the rocks above the ocean beach. The waves were coming in pretty far, but I thought that we were high enough. I thought wrong. We had not been on the rocks 5 minutes before the waters came splashing against the rocks that we were walking on. I held the kids and protected them from the big splash. I got pretty wet, but no harm was done, and the lesson was well received.
The sandy beaches of life will often suddenly turn into rushing waves of sea salty waters. My friend, there are times when the volcanoes of life will heat up and blow their top. When they do, we best be aware, heed the warnings, and seek higher ground.
Dan, I do not know what you may be going through presently, but I am praying for you. If for any reason you taste those salty waters of what was once a calm and sandy beach, I have every reason to believe that God is going to change things for you. If the volcanoes of your life have blown its top, I have every reason to believe that the ashes will not bury you. When the troublesome adversities of life blow against all of us, God is always both warning and leading us out to safety.
So Daniel, my friend, may we together seek higher ground. Love you. Curtis09262013
My skin prickles, hair on my arm
flag-raised.
Quite peculiar, actually, someone
or something, is watching me.
I recalculate my senses, dusting off
pre-conceived notions of paranoia.
Across the room, a dull thud garners
my attention. Searching, I discover a
doorstop has simply tipped over, quite
impossible, I conjecture!
I pick it up and feel a distinct burning!
it's hot to the touch!
Dropping the fiery doorstop, I hear an
otherwordly chuckle emanate from
somewhere above me, reloading my
sense of apprehension.
Not to be ill-prepared, I crouch in a
defensive position, peering this way and
that, ready to defend who knows what.
I turn to evacuate the premises,
and come face to face with a grinning
disembodied head!
Punching my way through the
phosphorous face,
I escape!
Wakening
From
My
Dream
02/15/14
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