Metaphor Natural Disasters Poems | Examples

These Metaphor Natural Disasters poems are examples of Natural Disasters poems about Metaphor. These are the best examples of Natural Disasters Metaphor poems written by international poets.

From my Hillview home beside the Ruby Gate,
I watched the blood moon rise,
its red fire spilling across the Bay of Bengal.

The sea turned into a vast mirror of flame,
the mountains stood hushed,
their green shoulders brushed by crimson light.

Karnaphuli flowed like a molten ribbon,
carrying whispers of old songs to the shore.

Not alone on the hill,
I felt the city breathing beneath me,
yet only the moon kept me company.

Its scarlet face leaned close,
as if the heavens bent toward Chittagong.
In that hour,
I was both witness and keeper of the glow.

And with my brother Shimul by my side,
We sealed the night in memory, unforgettable and wide

© Nurul Hoque   

pause to hear a storm
listen to its vast noises
admire its voices
winds that blew in infamy
crackled as romantic fires

state huts wade through muck
spiders and newborns pancaked
trouble from the breeze
it stretched over our tall walls
but into their tenements

furious horses
unimagined violence
warfare wind wallops
nests shaken out by breezes
some people gather again

© Trina Layne  

Mountains made of waves
tore the flesh from Mother Earth —
flayed and flooding.

The mud grieves beneath her,
clogged with stagnant saline.
She used to breathe — rivers ran wild and free,
forests stood tall and proud.

For she was once lush —
verdant skin stretched over a trembling core,
veins of sapphire seas pulsing with breath.
But we carved into her with teeth of steel,
peeled back her emerald skin,
pierced through her bones.
We didn’t ask.
We took.

Her lungs lit like lanterns.
Birds dropped from the blackened sky.
The ocean soured, bloated with grief.
Coral bleached like the bones of the forgotten —
silent, skeletal, sunken.

And still, we kept chlorine at her flesh.

Now she festers —
her winds thin, her skin splitting.
Cities crust her like scabs.
She does not scream.
She simply waits.

A casualty of your cruelty,
she lies open, emptied —
not for mercy,
not for rage —
but for the stillness that comes
when there’s nothing left to save.

And still,
you look away,
call the silence healing —
but it’s too late
to unknown what you’ve done.

© Billie Jama  

HELL'S WINTER

Palisade fires
canvassing hell here on earth;
hot flames rioting!

© Millard Lowe  

.

                   imagin
         from boulbous budz
                  cometh
               enchanting 
                  flowerz

                     oh
                    and
         from globose nuts 
                  comez 
              thuh mighty
                    oak

© James Peranteau  

A tree is dying
The flowers fell to the ground
Each leaf blown by wind.

© Hugo Sarvida Jr.  

We stand still as stone, hold our shape over time 
Watchers of the mosque, we watch as masks walk
Each passing stride a new universe of re-re-redesign
Every step under us, on the same curve of cold rock

Carved from the whole, statues with earth-turning toes 
Clay feet on a cobbled road, yet we continue
Seeing the still-captured unease of being alone 
Static herd, sighing hive, we eye worlds within you  

Still, we'll spill your secrets when a wrong wind hits us
Whether from heaven's breath or heathen sent 
Neither faith nor time nor bombs colliding play favorites,
All of it razes all of us, to a gatherless disorientation 

Mere dust, trading memories of your faces from the belly of what's left,
The plastic bottle; an eternal hourglass, immune to time’s theft

© Jaymee Thomas  

I soar high above the mountains touching every elusive peak
carrying white fluffy clouds on my back, unhinged and free
The parched lands look up to me to quench their thirst and pray
I blow the moisture-laden clouds, I carry from place to place, their way
I never rest a moment for that would be catastrophic beyond reason
the same is true of my excessive agility as I cause storms of destruction
My power is immense to cause havoc when angry, which is often
But, I also touch the cheek of a child gently, and caress unseen
I go everywhere, I touch everything, nothing escapes me on the surface
I snuff out flames but I also fan fires, I'm the original 'Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde'
Many ancient religions and tribes worship me as a Diety of some stature
But I must admit I am disoriented by the Sun's heat, and Earth's rotation.

© MB Farookh  

A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within
Flowers; a painless, healing, prescription of treatment 
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian

Happiness; gives sharp antithesis of lifes oblivion
Tectonic; the plate layer produces a fiery quill of lament
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within

Waving; a molten brush of colors, results cascadian
A surgeons gift; to be given, a unique scalpel of torment
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian

Emotional eruptions; give way to a physical custodian
Islands of hope; from a mind, of seas with dubious intent
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within

Feelings so igneous; venting becomes it's guardian
A healing phase; melting purposely cooled stone indent
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian

A cinder cone; written to perform acts so tragedian
Dormant, till; the next event of this calderas' fulfillment
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian

© Anonomus Scorpio  

I am a yellow and sweet sticky treat
for fuzzy-footed bumblebee, fair and yellow.
Silky fellow, delightfully. Sun is warm
and runs warm hands through my
fuzzy friend's gilded mane.
Sticky feet and pollen
meet to travel
to a new
landing.
I am
standing tall.
Open eye; black and
seeing an infinite blue sky.
Since my seeding, My eye was
forever staring into that open sky.
Suddenly!
Im am bleeding!
And it is seeping into
that dark place below. The earth
shakes and rumbles as it flows and flows.
It takes deep secret routs
away from me. Deep and
secret roots reach
all the way to
the raging
sea.
The waves
take me infinitely.
And when those same waves
crash back to shore, I find myself once
more. I am proud, head high and standing tall
until I fall; Until I see my blue, raging self overtake me.
washed away by the bay. That yellow bud and that lovely bee.

© Brittany Starks  

I
one sees less-marketable manners, traits
as one plays with dirt - we used to say "soil," -
wherever I go, i will be pottering plants like Philodendron

II
today i was self-aware, I didn't mind making my hands dirty
we have been told: "Don't let earth touch you only at death,
our lifestyle is separation from earth!" Spoken by Stewards who care

© Anil Deo  

Remote land summon an aloof tempest,
Bursting lights glint inquietude offshore,
Edged mists intimate like an apprentice,
Intrigue asserts the clouded to explore.

Inland heating like a warming welcome,
Landlubbers likely combative response,
Unveiled inherent instincts that seldom,
Aid dominions that are so nonchalance.

Newt eyes nictating atop curling waves,
A plucked forest acts as a casting wand,
Amplifying teens conjure inward braves,
Spirits arising maintaining the spawned.

Imaged enthralled hazes flit Noah's ark,
Sweeper-swept palls purify rainbow arc.

© Hilo Poet  

When magma begins to flow
The wise begins to build bridges,
And construct channels and dams
That the god of magma
may be worshiped

When epidemics begin to rehearse 
the sages begin  to dig tombs
and cane drums in their bald heads
That those who perish
may rest case in troubles

When hens begin to crow
the cocks begin to quack  power
and foxes hire grasshoppers for dinner
That the land of chickens and hoppers
may endure forever

© Solomon Ochwo-Oburu  

I'm like what's next?

I'm in the P.D.X,
so flexed-
come rain or come next,

if the weather has test,
"I say" take the heather to caress the pests-

rush in on tether's and bust up their measures,

force on them pleasures because I take care the never never and replace them with edgers...

So take out your name,

and stake out the possessed,

because what allowed us always came to be best.

© Jimmi Canada  

When nature talks
Who can say no?
Nature talks of human genius
Nature calls the rock of order
Nature talks to the king of the bush
Then it talks to little praying mantis
All respond “Yes madam, I will do it now”

© Solomon Ochwo-Oburu