Long Natural disaster Poems

Long Natural disaster Poems. Below are the most popular long Natural disaster by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Natural disaster poems by poem length and keyword.


Vertigo

It stops
As soon as I get up
It starts again 
As I lie down,
The nerves falling out
Eyes crying
Heart sinking,
Mind losing sync
World spinning.

I do not understand,
I do not know,
The room around making a go,
And suddenly then,
My imaginations,
Taking control.
There’s something high,
In my blood,
There’s something low,
On the floor below,
A natural disaster,
Is an explanation?
But, where did,
My powers to rhyme go.

One step at a time,
I tell myself,
Don’t fall of the bed,
Just yet,
‘Love the feeling that you’re in’
Do I?
Subconsciousness, weariness,
Dormant, concealed,
Do I love this?
Quite yes.

The feeling so sublime,
Of my equilibrium,
Vanishing completely,
‘I’m okay’ I tell myself,
‘I will be okay’ corrected.
In this perpetual night,
With dogs singing in unison,
My head trembling like an earthquake,
And I,
In a peaceful state,
Human body,
Starts to make sense.


River Runs Wet And Dry

It rained for three days
Constant outpouring awakens
The dry river to life again
A little farther besides our home
I hear the rumbling sound
Of water slowly snaking though
Descending, bulldozing its might
Pushing those like foam and debris
Downward plaining going farther
I can't wait for my outburst feeling
Whether I be sad, fear or happy
Sad cause by the inundation
Of what if it will go to flooding
And cause damage to land and properties
Fear of natural disaster to happen
Happy for our root crops ration with water
The rain did not stop its fury
I was tamed for three days in seclusion
Looking outside observing the effect
Slowly the rain die down its anger
Slowly also the river begun to calm down
Almost a day also the river dries up
And it goes back to totally back to sleep
That's when my fear and sadness also cease
Back to normal, life goes on to live.

Save the World From the Toxic Hands of Hypocrisy

there are calamity of swam of locusts
there all are attacked by the virus
coronavirus is attacking the inside living cell of organism

Oh! about this I'm true illiterate

poisonous airing, envenomed environment
make the procession of dead
though chemical-atomic experiment
pacifies the hypocrite imperialist

now-a-days every fierce (so called natural) disaster,
every dangerous pollution
obliges to read out these as the cursed from God!
how wondrous buffoon I am!
For whom the innocent dies
and whose name does the curse write!

I abhor myself
to float on this stupid obligation,
to float on the marrow-less praying

they say pray
I say pray for mental calmness
but need to do something best quickly
for the attacked and non-attacked all

Come; save the world from the envenomed air pollution
Come; instantaneously stop the chemical-atomic experiment
Come; save the world from the toxic hands of hypocrite imperialist



-February 06,2020 Chattogram

Premium Member BEFORE THE FUNERALS

The next time a natural disaster strikes…whether it be a tsunami or
hurricane from the oceans, a flood from the rivers…or a tornado from the skies 
notice how, all over the world, you see the same sadness…
the same sorrow, the same tears in everybody’s eyes.

And when we kill each other because of our differences…
our different countries, different lifestyles, the different Gods in whom we believe…
at the funeral of those we’ve killed…or who’ve killed us…
notice….how similar we all grieve.

When a bomb or a bullet kills a baby…whether in Palestine or Tel-Aviv
notice, as you watch the mothers at the funerals,
how similar they all grieve.

All the tears we cry are the same…
whether it’s a natural disaster…or an unnatural disaster we create…
no matter our religion, our politics…if we are gay…or we are straight.

Grieving is universal…it’s something we all share…
in every corner of the world…both near and far….
I only wish….
before the funerals…
we’d realize
how similar we are.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Lions Day

I pressed my hands against my face 

 and rock my body to and fro  

and let the rhythm flow  

where my imagination goes.  

The flies are crawling on the ceiling  

and the bugs are flirting with the alarm  

and the centipedes are crawling  

on the old dusty carpet  

underneath the cynical alter  

and the black bear is running  

around the town boring holes in the ground. 

The stone aged man with bronze  

Wrapped around the alter  

is a natural disaster  

His loud and thunderous voice

Burst up the ceiling dripping stains on the floor 

Another dejavu has entered the town  

With burning passion in its bosom  

and the people are running around, 

without hope or ambition  

the lion has escaped from its den 

Looking for a place to lay its head 

It is chasing the people around the street 

Busting down doors  

and ripping up clothes in the stores 

And the money man with the till 

Held his corner and watch  

the lion massacre unfold 

People are jumping on tables and running  

out the doors but it corner a group of men  

And mutilate them in the store 

A man mount the steps and 

 hit it several time with a desk 

and the lion leaped straight at him and 

cut his throat with a subtle grin. 

And just as he was about to take 

 Another dive the store keeper 

Finished him with a barrage  

of bullets from his gun 

The lion day has come.


An Evacuation Order

Folks living by the coast line
have been given an unpleasant evacuation order, not a warning,
" Evacuate immediately, Sandy is coming with rain 
and strong gusts...some of you will refuse to leave town,
standing on the beach watching
the hurricane's four feet tides rise....are you insane? "


The concerned cop on the loud speaker says,
" Take what you can and hop in your car and head for
the Evacuation Center...there you'll be safe! "
Hesitation persists on their stubborn faces...
" Take your kids to a safer place, food and clothes will be available! "
An elderly woman screams, " Listen to him and go! "
I have seen a dozen storms, but hurricane Sandy is a vicious name!"
" Go, don't let any children shake and ramble! "


Randy has already hit the Jersey shore,
and slowing moving up to New York's Harbor;
another exodus from this Melting Pot
that once was struck by a terrorists' attack... 
now, a Natural Disaster. " Sins of wicked people! "
That preacher on Third Avenue shouts while ringing a bell,  
" Turn to God and He will not punish anyone anymore! "
" Shut up!" A punk smoking crack tells him..." Who's this God
whom you are talking about? Why is he so angry and uses the rod? " 
I was His child, but today my master is the Devil! "


When hurricane Sandy comes, I won't be waiting for vicious killer winds,
be blown away as glass shatters and rooftops fall;
I will be safe in my home, praying for the ones in danger.
" Everyone listen and heed, hurricanes are no jokes...pack your belongings
and flee to safety! Isn't it life-threatening to all?"
I grab the car keys and off I go with uncombed hair.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Hairy Morning

Oh, my gosh, I’m freaking and feel such dread.
What the hay is this nonsense on my head?
I can’t go to work, can't enter the office!
I will be seen, visible to peers and bosses,
be the fool who provided entertainment gossip. 
God, please, send help, I am stress-nauseous.
I do not care about appearing faultless,  
but I'd rather errantly tuck a dress in my hose
and walk through the office cluelessly exposed
than have everyone think this is what I choose.
I wonder if I should call in with a case of ugly,
hire someone to gently, but effectively mug me?
Perhaps I'll get pulled and cuffed on the roadside
for publicly exposing the ugliest hair ever dyed.  
Shame a wig class wasn't at business school:
"How to Avoid Looking Like the Office Fool."
I look like a horrified, horror movie hostess.
Even my own mirror is refusing to focus.
Here I am, paler than even fresh new snow,
with midnight black hair grooving to and fro.
My very first dye and, oh my, I could just die!
Box said ‘brown’, now I'm so down, I might cry.
Universe, please – send a natural disaster,
nothing fatal, it's just one repair day I’m after.
Form: Other

I Wish Somebody Would'Ve Told Me

I wish somebody would’ve told me

I wish somebody would’ve told me
That the world never ends
Even when you want it to.
When a black hole swallows you up
On the spot 
When an earthquake leaves you cracked and bleeding
When a wave covers you and you drown
In a sea of deep dark pain.
The world goes on,
It keeps moving, keeps spinning,
Leaving you behind.
I wish somebody would’ve told me 
That screaming is it’s own natural disaster
Yelling into the void of moving bodies,
Is taking a magnifying glass to an ant hill
And burning it down
Pain spreads the farther your voice carries
As you watch your pain burn down the world,
Then you open your eyes and no one has heard you
The scream never left your bloody lips
I wish somebody would’ve told me 
That disasters don’t count
When they happen in your brain.

3/10/23 Contest: Pick-a-title, Edward Ibeh
© The Ant  Create an image from this poem.

Outsourced

In the beginning
When humanity began to walk
The Creator would come down
Just to talk
...with man

Time passed
And possibilities began to arise
Everything permissible
Except that one, where man dies
...alone

Well, it happened
And really, not that bad, it seemed
Man lived and had children
Without a Creator who intervened
...incessantly

Murder is learned
And it surfaced with brothers
Toil, pain and suffering
For shamed mothers
...of sons

The Flood came
A new beginning for a clean slate
But if experience is a teacher
Habit had an open gate
...to the heart

Man decided to be god
Unity helped them build a tower
A pyramid with an altar atop
So that man could have power
....to destroy

The more man roamed
And saw the difference of choice
Submission seemed ignorant
When the silence vibrated with voice
...to hold

Love happens freely
There shouldn't be one "right" way
Sodom and Gomorrah erupted
With the insanity of making HOLY ANGELS man's prey
...for sex 

We want a king! They cried
And The Creator provided, yet again
No one liked the sacrificial system
And HIS obsession with sin
...the SIN
...................of WOman

.............................................He should be over it by now.

Even when THAT king failed
Many others followed, leadership sealed
GOD can NOT be our king
Because that position is currently filled
...with man

Religion and Politics gathered
In a governing system, like a pyramid on dry land
Man grew comfortable in position and power
That made them oblivious to the shifting sand
....of natural disaster

So solid is the foundation
In this time of civilized man
That those who claim HIS name
Have no NEED to reach for HIS hand
...anymore

Six long days have passed
And man has finally arrived at the top
Humanity understands LOVE conquers fear
And no weapon can ever stop
...a CHILD OF GOD

GOD RESISTS

......................THE PROUD

..........................................even if they are CHILDREN OF GOD


Written by Trudy Schrader on 03/17/2020
Form: Rhyme

This is poetry

I'm lover not a fighter, 
me spilling exclamations 
instead of blood, 
its what I resamble, 
the ink in my viens that paints not images 
but setting reactions on the loose. 

Please! blame me not, 
creativity is access, 
mean not to invade 
but i'm without bearings, 
this din in my words, 
put flames to my surrounding,
 
I mean not to brag, 
help me extinguish this overflow
 in my system, 
it just can't be contained, 
it wanna consume everything before me, 
like a natural disaster, 
my  presence devastates, 
tie your attentions, 
before i'm charged for being creative.
I am poetic ink.

not to dilute your egoes 
but to uproot your reactions, 
like acid, 
i'm here to burn not your minds 
but your word perspective and perception. 
I said it i'm poetry 
not that I was born of poetry 
but soldiered enough 
in gathering meaning 
from all sources to your presence, 
of what poetry is.
#Poetic_Ink

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