Long Firefighters Poems
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There stands a blackened tower
Shrouded in a ghostly white
The tomb of seventy two
From a day that drags on hour by dreadful hour
As we reflect upon that ghastly night
A day so many live to rue.
From a simple kitchen fire
There grew a flesh eating blaze
That built into a funeral pyre
Covering London in its darkening haze.
Onlookers helplessly looked on
At windows registering silent screams
Of friends and relatives soon to be gone
The stuff of nightmares ,not of dreams.
Too late did the firefighters come
As the flames did the victims consume
In the furnace they once called home
Daily life no longer theirs to resume
An inquiry now picks over the remains and rubble
Searching for what went so badly wrong
Many will be called to account for this trouble
For those commemorated in my dirge of a song.
Grenfell's holocaust is burned into the national mind
Memories shredded and ripped sadly asunder
While every attempt was made for blame evasion
By those who to customer safety were blind
Our bitter grief smoulders on from this costly blunder
Such a parcel of hypocritical rogues in our nation!
"The fire has crossed containment lines,
Dunns Road has just been breached,
Emergency vehicles have withdrawn,
You cannot be reached",
Local radio announces every minute,
Evacuation roads are shut,
Power and phones are all now down,
You're alone with the smoke and dust.
Then through the haze of black and red,
Fire cowlicks up your house,
Adrenaline shakes your trembling hand,
Your legs, your chest, your mouth,
It's just you and your hose in the fight,
No mercy- do or die,
Fire licks at everything you have,
Everything left dry.
Then, in a moment, it's gone again,
Wild wind waltzed it up the hill,
And you stand alone in complete silence,
To witness what's been killed,
When, from nowhere, the acrid stench,
From animals now burnt black,
Battle with the pungency,
Life under attack.
Tears now drop, you try to feel,
Deep down you know you're broke,
As you see the stoic volunteer brigade,
Floating through the smoke,
You fall, they catch in arms of love,
Take you away from here,
To a place of peace and mates and hope,
With a smile, a joke and beer.
There is a presence to a Sunday morning,
an ease. People waiting on line for their
coffee seem more animated, less agitated,
friendlier….almost chatty. The traffic seems
to get along better too. No schedules demand
cut throat tactics to beat the next red light.
School buses, along with their riders, are
tucked away for the weekend. The hum of
the tires on the pavement seems almost
musical, soothing, in a movingstillness
kind of way. Joggers seem more relaxed,
their dogs less pressured to “get it done”.
Ducks idly talk to their shadows. Church
bells chime more jubilantly echoing over
the breaking day. We sit. Two old men
sipping hot coffee. Reveling in the present,
reminiscing about the past, in no hurry
for the future. An elderly woman ambles
past, smiling at the blowing leaves,
shuffling her feet in mock childhood frolic.
Cyclists relax into a near traffic-less rhythm
of wheels, spokes, gears - grinning into the
chill breeze of November. The firehouse
doors are open, the firefighters resting
between rounds, trucks sitting idle in
the bays, hoses rolled and ready. Two
squirrels play tag in front of a blue house
disappearing into piles of leaves only
to re-emerge atop a fence post. A grey
and white cat lays motionless nearby.
There is no rush to the cadence of the
churchgoers. It appears they may have
already entered into the day’s prayer.
A gentle sense of unanticipated hope
pervades the subtleties of life.
There is a presence to a Sunday morning.
John g. Lawless
11/8/2015
Twenty-five years have passed,
yet the memory still remains,
a morning filled with sorrow,
a nation washed in pain.
The towers reached toward heaven,
then disappeared from sight,
leaving behind a silence
that still echoes every night.
We remember those who never
made it home that day,
the mothers, fathers, sons and daughters
who were taken far away.
We remember every hero
who ran toward the flame,
while others ran for safety,
they answered when we called their name.
The firefighters and the officers,
the strangers helping strangers too,
the countless acts of courage
from red, white, and blue.
We remember those in heaven,
and the families left behind,
the empty chairs, the photographs,
the memories frozen in time.
Though years may pass before us,
their stories will not fade.
For every life that was taken,
a promise must be made:
To remember their names,
to honor what they gave,
to cherish those beside us,
and never forget the brave.
So today we bow our heads,
with hearts both proud and torn,
and whisper through the years:
We remember.
We honor.
We will never forget.
Fiery pits with thick smoke
I remember it made me choke
I remember the heat that stung my skin
Reflecting the fiery heat and conquered from within
Sinister and choking the balanced shame
Firefighters fighting the monster flame
Burning my heart and searing the blood
Draining my energy basking in the sun
Sweating bullets and so full of fear
The time of my judgment is very near
Relying the source of fiery hate
Describing to you something I cannot relate
Sinister thoughts balance my mind
Searching for something I cannot find
Lost and forgotten I wait for this fate
Try as you may ~ you'll never relate
Black smokes wisps throughout the night
As I uncontrollably battle this fight...
I’m watching a journalist from France 2 or 3,
I watch Olivier Ménard from the TV l'équipe
I spoke to my conscientious mechanic on Thursday,
I observe the little baker who thinks alone,
I read the Blue Tunics, a french comic book,
I listen to my doctor go into retirement,
I watch Ancelloti talking about football,
I think of the city of Rouen, the firefighters
The lyric a great poet of the 19th century,
I marvel at all these nurses,
I fantasize about an actress named Louise,
I vote for a famous red union,
I listen to the raucous view of Radio Nostalgia,
I am thinking of Carrefour hypermarket customers
Alas, alas, only the birds love us.
We can never forget 9/11
We will forever remember such a date
A date that will live in infamy
A date that has everything in it:
Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery
Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness
9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date
That changed the world. Things are not seen like
The day before. We have a different perspective
About life and everything under the sun
We learn new ways of mourning, sighing
Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient
No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism
Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death
Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen
And many others who wear proudly their uniforms
We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11
The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives
Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished
We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always
Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious
And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards
9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there
For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized
In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold
"911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor
9/11/2001 is now 18 years old.18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering
We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11.
Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Oh, I remember...
A most painful anniversary. I'll never forget
Where I was that fateful September day.
I still vividly remember what I was doing
And exactly how I felt
When I watched in paralyzing horror
As the second hijacked plane hit the tower;
The cataclysmic impact,
Immediate;
Depth of heartache and pain,
Bottomless.
I knew America was under terrorist attack.
The imagery of billowing smoke
From the gaping hollows
Where the planes struck
The twin towers,
Unforgettable.
Watching trapped people
Who couldn't withstand the intense heat
Plunging to their deaths,
Unshakable;
Glued to the TV in such shock and disbelief
I could barely speak!
On that September morning in New York,
Thousands of everyday people,
Including brave firefighters
Woke up,
Kissed their families goodbye,
Walked out the front door never to return.
Their survivors left to deal with
The aftermath of their new reality;
Yet that awful, tragic day was also a day
Of courage and resilience.
Heroes made the last moments of their lives count
Aboard Flight 77; an impending attack
On the Pentagon, they thwarted.
Terrorists tried to divide us that day.
They failed spectacularly.
From the ashes, America rose like Phoenix,
Still united. 21 years later,
The pain is still fresh every anniversary.
The memory is eternally vivid.
The world hasn't forgotten.
We Americans haven't forgotten.
We will never forget.
Writing Challenge - X'd Poems Second Chance Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date submitted: 12/03/2022
N/A in Remember September Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
Contest Judged: 9/23/2022 8:14:00 PM
Date written: 09/11/2022
seared into my memory
the running
the jumping
the smoke
litterbombs of personal items
the phone call
the ear scream
didn’t see the fall
the photographs in the other room
stare at them
hold them to my chest
three months past
the towers, the pentagon, plane down
what is going on
share the news
found callousness
NYC shows up in vivid dream
phone booth rings
no one else on street
I wake up
can’t tell the students
shaken up
adults sharing
it was scary
it’s been twenty years
lives move on
time goes fast
N E V E R F O R G E T
the workers
the dreamers
the children
the firefighters
Paul Tegtmeier
…and others
so many others
smoke has cleared
two fountains of tears
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I had a dream a few nights ago and felt so blessed that it was just a dream.* My house was on fire and firefighters could not save it. No one's health and life were at risk nor were pets endangered because I was the only one home. Whatever possessions to be saved depended on me. I had never been in a position like that, and furthermore, I had only 16 minutes to save seven things. I whispered a prayer and began to prioritize what to leave in and what to take out. I did not have time to worry about what others would think of my choices. My 16 minutes quickly unfolded, but the 7 things did not come easy.
I grabbed the Family Bible from the living room table and sat it at the exit,
realizing that to be the most important book in the life of my family. I quickly
reflected upon the joys we have shared together and retrieved as many
family pictures as possible. I am praying without ceasing because I understand
that I cannot do this task on my own. I dash to areas where we keep important documents and records, some of which are on paper, videotapes, etc. It's hard to think rationally when you are chasing a clock surrounded by smoke and fire. I reach for some other special books we hold dear and take the armload to the door. I still have time to get my computer that's loaded with much of my poetry and writings. I'm moving very rapidly as I reach for my hard copy writings stashed away in a tote. It amazes me that it often takes a crisis, an emergency, for us to come to terms with what really matters most. I have a couple minutes left and I really don't know what to reach for next. What last thing is there in my house that I really must have?
Thirty seconds elapsed and I rembered my 'Quarter Collection' which
essentially has very little monetary value but a lot of personal and educational value when I consider the time and interest put into the collection. Thank God It's just a dream!
22519PoSoupContest, Seven Things You Would Save If Your House Was On Fire, Karen Krutsinger.*Fiction for contest