Long Evacuated Poems
Long Evacuated Poems. Below are the most popular long Evacuated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Evacuated poems by poem length and keyword.
You left like someone closing a window
during a storm they had invited in.
The curtains kept breathing your name
long after your footsteps forgot the floor.
I still find your fingerprints
on ordinary things—
a glass of water,
an unanswered call,
the side of the bed that remains diplomatic.
Love did not leave me gracefully.
It dragged furniture across my ribs,
broke mirrors inside my throat,
taught silence how to scream.
You called it fate.
I called it arson.
You built a home in my pulse
then evacuated without warning.
Now every room in me
smells of burnt letters
and rainwater.
Some nights
I wear my grief like expensive perfume—
subtle at first,
then impossible to ignore.
The moon watches me rehearse
all the conversations
we never survived.
I have memorized the mathematics of loss:
one body,
two ghosts,
infinite apologies.
Still—
if you knock at my door
with your ruined hands
and your late remorse,
I might open it
just to prove
even ashes
can remember fire.
Under No Management
A sad state of mind emergency,
rooted sorrow buried deep within.
Evacuated thought mind urgency,
isolated all alone to weep again.
Sirens, horns, lights flashing,
mentally dialing 911 inside.
Trains, cars, planes all crashing,
wreckages of tears eternally cried.
Mental blue spaced handicap parking,
unrecorded reality in empty closet space.
The brightlights pen flashed sparkling,
No manager home to manage this place...
bmdavey@
002/24/17
A promise born, a life designed,
To emancipate, to break the bind.
But fate dealt blows, parents passed away,
Leaving her to shadows, in a world astray.
She sells her body, a living corpse,
A pretty face, a paradise sepulcher, a tragic force.
Uncertainty looms, her future unsure,
A womb evacuated, her soul obscure.
Loneliness creeps, a dejected soul,
Yearning for companionship, a heart that's whole.
"I need a child," she cries, "who'll stand by me?"
But all have fled, fearing disease's decree.
Meanwhile, he seeks to blend, to chill with the bold,
A "Jogolo" tagged, making women happy, but growing old.
He dupes and uses, but ends up used and worn,
A walking corpse, his life misled, his future torn.
Both lost, both alone, both searching for more,
Their lives a testament to the choices they've explored.
Yet, in desperation, she looks up to the skies,
Her maker stretches His hands, a rescue surprise.
1-5-25______________1-25-25
125_________________525
21__________________105
3___________________15
1___________________5
0,0163%
of hydrogen
extracted from seawater
Deuterium when mixed
with tritium
under the influence
of extreme heat
and pressure
becomes a gaseous
hydrogen fuel
becomes a fusion plasma
generated in the Tomak
a tomak is an experiment
machine used to harness the
energy of fusion
charged participle of fusion
can be controlled
by magnetic coils
air and impurities are
evacuated from the vacuum
confinment and control of the
plasma are charged up
and the gaseous fuel is
introduced
powerful electrical currents
are run through
the vassal were gas breaks down
electrically
and then it becomes ironized
and electrons are stripped
from the nuclei
and forms a plasma
TO ACHEIVE FUSION THE
PLASMA IN THE TOMAK
MUST REACH
150,00,000 million
degrees!
Plasma particles become
energized and collide into one another
natural electromagnetic repulsion
om collision to fuse
the proposal for a
configuration of a magntic
fusion device.
1200 Packard Twelve
or a Ka de shi'erhao 1200
20 minutes!
Prussia and the other states are moving like a juggernaut.
Each day, our forces are falling to the onslaught.
The German states and cities are united as one.
We have been no match for them since the fighting had begun.
We have all pledged our allegiance to our Emperor Napoleon.
However, in the early battles, our forces became undone.
Here we are in September of 1870.
Uneasiness in Europe has resulted in hostility.
It seems Europe’s biggest bullies had to fight it out.
The attack on Worth has resulted in a rout.
The Prussians are moving south, and we are next to fight.
Strasbourg’s defenses have been bombarded day and night.
Just across the Rhine River, we see their fortifications.
The civilians have been evacuated by Swiss delegations.
We have been ordered to defend to the last man.
However, our Emperor has been captured at Sedan.
This indicates that there is no relief in sight.
General Ulrich has ordered we make our stand and fight.
The Bishop of Strasbourg has pleaded to no avail.
It is only a matter of time before our defenses fail.
Frankly Speaking
There is a couple on the beach, they have a small room, been on the beach for years, suffered through the worst of it. They have been through every phase. The Hippie, the war protesters -the poet-the artist - the "free love fest"- the heavy duty weed scene, "hell no we won't fn go" from there; To the board room with a haircut and a suit. Back to the beach, to retire; She still wore pigtails and flowered skirts. Oh, my God, we’ve moved slower through time she thought, and those times now seemed so far away. Contrasting times were here with cocaine, ecstasy, and mushrooms.!
S.S. check gone too soon, these days were not like the old days but vegetarians never die- So we dance at night after soaking up the sun; Growing wrinkled and red and filled with vitamin D... He displays his art- we played on our boombox: Bob Marley and Elton John which drew a crowd. We became as one with South Beach, as we practiced our Yoga, or played our musical instruments and chanted “Nam-myoho-renge-kyo”.
My black friend was so beautiful in her bikini and golden headwrap...She roller-skated past and waved. She was a poet like me... She said she'd be back for the session. A lot of her poems were about David the owner of the Franklin Hotel where we lived. I and other poets wrote poems about the system that tried to impose hate upon us free thinking peoples. People would give us money for sharing our poems, and purchase his art work. We’d buy few mangos and veggie burgers for our dinner, next, we’d wait for the sun to go down.
At night, my Black friend. Oladeji would collect the last 5 bucks, for the Gourmet Franks that she sold to the hungry drunks left over on the beach, who had been evacuated from the clubs for maxed out credit cards. Sad looks and broke pockets were not welcomed.
Which made her hot, fat kosher gourmet grilled franks, smothered in her special onion sauce, even more of a redeeming quality; As her poetic sign read… {FRANKLY SPEAKING…Home of the gourmet franks} ... Oladeji, would chant out her newly learned Spanish words nightly, to the dregs of dejected party goers, she’d shout “Pero caliente, saboya salsa” Rico delicioso”! then again in English; Hot-dogs with onion sauce very delicious.
Hurricane Florence
By Franklin Price
9/16/2018
She came across the ocean
With a terrible intent
Slammed the coast in Carolina
She so slowly came and went
At one time while still traveling
A category four
With the winds above one forty
Waves fifty feet and more
As outer bands came over land
Dropped to an upper one
Still one hundred miles per hour
Her clouds covering the sun
Storm surge pushed the rivers back
New Bern was hit the worst
Roads and houses flooded
Looked as if a dam had burst.
Forward movement very slow
Miles per hour less than ten
Kept pounding on the same place
With rain and flood and wind
Soon thousands had no power
Trees were blowing to the ground
For the non-evacuated
Death and injury were found
With the wind and rain still raging
First responders made their way
To rescue those in danger
From their homes along the way
Heroes risked their life and limb
For ones who did not heed the call
It's a shame that some were gone
Responders could not save them all
Several days have passed us by
Since Florence came to land
Now a tropical disturbance
Her dangers not so grand
She still presents some danger
As she heads for Tennessee
Rain from her is coming down
In the mountains close to me
Rains that fall upon the mountains
Flow to rivers outward bound
Which overflow their upper banks
Causing flash floods all around
Florence almost gone now
What she's leaving in her wake
Will not be gone for many months
Will not be a piece of cake
I woke up this morning in the silence of my mind and looked outside
Not a sign of life was moving, and the city has lost its pride
I looked up at the skies above me searching for an answer, but the clouds keep rolling by and everyone was bidding the earth goodbye. A long road formed into the cloud and human forms was moving around, I kept looking at the shapes from the ground, but I could not see the face just the body of the human race.
I pinch my hand to see if I was still alive but something more powerful than me was giving me life the people have evacuated from the town
But I was still hanging around because destiny had me bound and courage kept spinning me around.
Thousands of cars lining the streets, trucks van and buses on one side and the smaller vehicles on the other side everyone was moving in order and bush doctors and the sorceress had to move and their portions and jinks fell into the sea and the troubled young man was finally set free.
Tons and tons of garbage line up by the wayside with everything that the occupants had inside, the rich and the poor have suffered the same fate
They all had garbage lining up at their gates leaving empty house behind a memory that cannot be replaced in a brand-new place.
The federal workers are working against time to clear the garbage before the cloud breaks, bulldozers, trucks and crane busy up and down the street creating a new landfill with all the remains from top of the hill.
And as they wait patience start to move slowly out of the gate and the town that once stood proud was reeling from loneliness. No one can go back there; there is a story for everyone to share so listen carefully. When the north wind combined with the south wind and the wicked wind of the east combined with the ferocious wind of the west nothing will be left; this town is inhabitable.
Help me save just one
They are so many
I have reason for no gun
I refuse the use of any
Use me to carry him
On my back to safety
It’s now dark, dim
Just one, help me
To what am I assigned
Why am I here, if not for Thee
These men are left behind
Show them mercy, I implore
To what extent, oh dear Lord
Please God, just one more
They are wounded, dying
Hear my plea, just one more
He was a conscientious objector
He would be the first to be awarded the Medal of Honor
He for his actions in Okinawa for his service in World War II
His religious convictions as a Seventh-day Adventist
He refused to carry a weapon
He initially faced opposition, persecution
He would be ridiculed from his fellow soldiers
He ultimately won their admiration by demonstrating courage
He served as a combat medic
He refused to kill an enemy soldier
He chose military service 1942, at Camp Lee, Virginia
He was awarded two Bronze Star Medals with a "V" device
His exceptional valor in aiding wounded soldiers under fire, honored
He saved the lives of 75 wounded infantrymen
He was evacuated on May 21, 1945, aboard the USS Mercy
He was Corporal Desmond Thomas Doss (1919 –2006)
For a moment,
setting aside imagined barriers
severing social democratic empowerment
from neuro-psychological health,
indulge in this deeply rich Thought Experiment
that growing multicultural trust
like cooperative WinWin strategic diplomats
also extends compassionate love
of everyday healthcare democratic lives.
It may become resonantly transparent
why perfecting love of multicultural regenerativity
cannot sustain within a toxic climate
of survival of the autocratic fittest,
competing WinLose devolutionary
weaponed revolution models.
Perfect co-redeeming love
cannot persist in a vacuum
for the same reason that naturally evolving ecosystems
abhor evacuated polypathic energies,
co-empathic enculturing trust
in elegantly ionic, iconic, pleasures.
Perfect love is bipartisan double-bind co-redemptive,
cooperatively co-arising democratic co-prehension,
or it cannot be perfected
WinWin regenerating global organic health.
Love cannot be returned away empty,
unfulfilled with longing for promise of fertility
unless also retaining a pathological anthropocentric vacuum,
absence of co-passionate trust
for sacredly organic abundance
sufficient for this co-engaging moment,
this co-operating day,
this co-invested life,
this regenerate loving Earth,
still holding on
to love's enduring democratic
neurosystemic
cobinary presence,
despite anthro-hubris kleptocratic
nationalistic predation
Setting aside imagined barriers
severing democratic co-empowerment
from organic neurosystemic multisensory healthcare.