#irma - Hello Poetry

It shook me. Like the buzzing of an early morning alarm, I was awoken from my sleep. Into reality, I was thrown, and into the mini-van, I was packed away. I didn’t want to leave, but I left with my family And, by the grace of God, a fourteen hour drive landed us safely in Georgia. Georgia… Ah, Georgia. It had been a while since my last visit, though every previous time was voluntary. In Georgia, they cancel school over a little rain, While the eye of the storm hovers its dreadful head over my home, As if to see what it could devour. But it didn’t. It didn’t succeed. It didn’t quench its thirst. It couldn’t devour. It barely left a mark on my home, but the mark on the community was much larger. This was a wake-up call to that community to commune, to partake in its purpose. It was a call to me to partake in mine. My calling, like a dream from a deep sleep, Was awoken… and It shook me.

0

Feb 26, 2018

Feb 26, 2018 at 12:55 AM UTC

JessicaJarvisPoetry

Shaken, but not quite stirred

It shook me. Like the buzzing of an early morning alarm, I was awoken from my sleep. Into reality, I was thrown, and into the mini-van, I was packed away. I didn’t want to leave, but I left with my family And, by the grace of God, a fourteen hour drive landed us safely in Georgia. Georgia… Ah, Georgia. It had been a while since my last visit, though every previous time was voluntary. In Georgia, they cancel school over a little rain, While the eye of the storm hovers its dreadful head over my home, As if to see what it could devour. But it didn’t. It didn’t succeed. It didn’t quench its thirst. It couldn’t devour. It barely left a mark on my home, but the mark on the community was much larger. This was a wake-up call to that community to commune, to partake in its purpose. It was a call to me to partake in mine. My calling, like a dream from a deep sleep, Was awoken… and It shook me.

20

"what makes you feel empowered?" "i don't know" green spirals filled the gap in our noises i took another drink and made profound eye contact with the ****** mary her frozen, flickering lips asked me questions i couldn't remember the answers to are you feeling paranoid yet? how many times have you been in love? why does walmart sell religious memorabilia at such a reasonable price? i ignored her, as i have since i was seventeen, so i'm sure she was used to it by now i took another drink and smiled as she grabbed my hand and he laughed and she sang and they talked over one another about things that we would forget tomorrow things that seemed crucial to say right now before the moment slipped away i let them talk and tried to absorb everything about this small, dysfunctional powwow that filled my heart to its very brim every part of the circle was so crucial, every word and laugh and sigh and sip so necessary for its completion that i was utterly overwhelmed by my very luck to be alive in a time and place where it existed i've never felt that way before when i walked home, the morning was early and damp and covered in the darkest dark i've ever experienced i saw a candle flickering in a window three stories up like a (relatively speaking) modern day northern star i turned off my flashlight and walked home in silence, basking in the green glow in the wake of fear and love and pain and joy and destruction

0

Sep 26, 2017

Sep 26, 2017 at 6:48 PM UTC

aargo

irma

"what makes you feel empowered?" "i don't know" green spirals filled the gap in our noises i took another drink and made profound eye contact with the ****** mary her frozen, flickering lips asked me questions i couldn't remember the answers to are you feeling paranoid yet? how many times have you been in love? why does walmart sell religious memorabilia at such a reasonable price? i ignored her, as i have since i was seventeen, so i'm sure she was used to it by now i took another drink and smiled as she grabbed my hand and he laughed and she sang and they talked over one another about things that we would forget tomorrow things that seemed crucial to say right now before the moment slipped away i let them talk and tried to absorb everything about this small, dysfunctional powwow that filled my heart to its very brim every part of the circle was so crucial, every word and laugh and sigh and sip so necessary for its completion that i was utterly overwhelmed by my very luck to be alive in a time and place where it existed i've never felt that way before when i walked home, the morning was early and damp and covered in the darkest dark i've ever experienced i saw a candle flickering in a window three stories up like a (relatively speaking) modern day northern star i turned off my flashlight and walked home in silence, basking in the green glow in the wake of fear and love and pain and joy and destruction

16

Its 8:30 in the AM The Corn Moon is being routed by a Manassas cloud bank NPR be barking Irma this, Irma that my tremblin Rav4 stuck in the rush is idling behind a pair of gray hairs spewing leaded premium out the back of a big old black Buick sportin Florida tags inching north up I95 I’m relieved to be a thousand miles ahead of the monstrous ***** denuding Barbuda deflowering the ****** Islands and threatening to topple the last vestiges of Castro’s Dynasty by disrupting upscale bourgeois markets for cafe Cubanos, cool Cohibas and bold Bolivars she’s a CAT 5 counterclockwise spinning catastrophe churning through the Florida straits bending steel framed Golden Arches shaking the tiki shacks gobbling lives defiling tropical dreams the best meteorological minds on the Weather Channel plug the Euro model to plot a choreography of Irma’s cyclonic sashay they predict she’ll strut her stuff up a runway that perfectly dissects the Sunshine State ransacking the topography venting carnage like battalions of badly behaved frat boys, schools of guys gone wild sophomores, wreaking havoc during a Daytona Beach spring break droolin over ******* popping woodies at wet tee shirt contests urinating on doorstoops puking into Igloo Coolers and breaking their necks from ill advised second floor leaps into the shallow end of Motel 6 pools but I’m rolling north into the secure arms of a benign Mid Atlantic Summer like other refugees, my trunk is filled with baggage of fear and worry wondering if there’re be anything left to return to once Irma has spent herself with one last furious **** against the Chattanooga Bluffs of Lookout Mountain Morning Edition Is yodeling a common seasonal refrain the gubmint is just about outta cash congress needs to increase the debt limit My oh my, has the worm turned during the Obama years the GOP put us through a Teabag inspired nightmare gubmint shutdowns and sequestration shaved 15 points off every war profiteers vig it gave a well earned long overdue take the rest of the week off unpaid vacation to non essential gubmint workers while a cadre of wheelchair bound Greatest Generation military vets get locked out of the WWII Memorial on the National Mall this time around its different we have an Orange Hair in the office and there's some hyper sensitivity to raise the debt ceiling given that Harvey has yet to fully drain from the Houston bayous the colossal cleanup from that thrice in a Millennial lifetime storm has garnered bipartisan support to clean up the wreckage left behind by a badly behaved one star BnB lodger who took a week long leak into the delicate bayous of Southeast Texas yet we are infused with optimism that our Caucasian president and his GOP grovelers now mustered to the Oval Office will slow tango with the flummoxed no answer Dems to get the job done pigs do fly in DC Ryan and McConnell double date with Pelosi and Schumer get to heavy pettin from front row seats beholding droll Celebrity Apprentice reruns The Donald, Nancy and Chuck slip the room for a little menage au trois side action transforming Mitch and Paul into vacillating voyeurs who start jerking their dongs while POTUS, and his new found friends get busy workin the art of a deal rush hour peaks static traffic grows in concert with a swelling frenetic angst driving drivers to madness terrified they won't get paid if the debt ceiling don't rise they honk horns rev engines thumb iPhones and sing out primal screams unmindful drivers piloting Little Hondas bump cheap Beamers start a game of bumper cars dartin in and out of temporary gaps uncovered by the spastic fits and starts of temporary decongested ebbs and flows A $12 EZ Pass gambit is offered the fast lane on ramp has few takers just another pick your pocket gubmint scheme two express lanes lie vacant while three lanes of non premium roadway boast bumper to bumper inertness wasted fuel declining productivity skyrockets the wisdom of the invisible hand doesn't seem to be working DOJ bureaucrats In Camrys and Focuses dial the office to let somebody know they’ll be tardy gubmint contractors in silver Mercedes begin jubilantly honking horns NPR has just announced that Pelosi and Schumer joined the Orange team the rise in the debt ceiling will nullify their 15% sequestration pay cut NPR reports the National Cathedral will deconsecrate two hallowed stained glass windows of rebel generals R E Lee and Stonewall Jackson it's a terrible shame that the Episcopal Church will turn its back on the rich Dixie WASPS who commissioned these installations to commemorate the church's complicity in sanctifying the institution of slavery, WWJD? as I ponder this Anglican conundrum another object arrests my streaming consciousness upsetting an attention span shorter and less deep than the patch of oil disappearing under the front of the RAV as I thunder by at 5 MPH to the left I eye a funny looking building standing at attention next to a Bob Evans I’m convinced Its gotta be CIA a 15 story gubmint minaret a listening post wired to intercept mobile digital confabulations from crawling traffic inching along beneath its feet this thinking node pulsing with intelligence reeking with counterintelligence the tautological contradiction guarantees the stasis of our confused national consciousness strategically positioned to tune into the intractable Zeitgeist culling meta code planting data points In Big Data data farms running algos to discern bits of intelligence endeavoring to reveal future shock trends knows nothing reveals less the buildings cover is its acute conspicuousness gray steel frame silver tinted glass multiple wireless antennas black rimmed windows boldly proclaim any data entering this cheerless edifice must abandon all hope of ever being framed in a non duplicitous non self serving sentence the gray obelisk a national security citidel refracts the fear and loathing the sprawling global anxiety our civilization's discontent playing out in the captive soft parade ambling along the freeway jam imobilized at its stoop Moning Edition jingle follows urgent report of FEMA scamblin assets arbitraging Harvey and Irma triaging two tropical storm tragedies and a third girl just named Maria pushed off the Canaries and is on its way to a Puerto Rico homecoming while gubmint bureaucrats anxiously push on to their soulless offices the rush hour jam has peaked my WAZE is having a nervous breakdown next lane over a guy in a gold PT Cruiser is banging on his steering wheel don’t think this unessential worker will win September's civil servant of the month award Ex Military K Street defectors slamming big civie Hummers getting six mpg lobby for a larger apportionment of mercenary dollars for Blackwater's global war on terror Prius Hybrids silently roll on politely driven by EPA Hangers On hoping to save a bit of the planet from an Agency Director intent on the agency's deconstruction the third 500 year hurricane of the season is of no consequence obsolete GMC Jimmy’s are manned by Steve Mnunchin wannabes the frugal treasury dept ledger keepers pour good money after bad to keep the national debt and there clanking jalopies working driving Malibus DOL stalwarts stickin with the Union give biz to GMC nice lookin chicks young coed interns with big daddy doners fix their faces and come to work whenever they want my *** is killing me I squirm in my seat to relieve my aching sacroiliac and begin to wonder if my name will appear on some computer printout today? can’t afford an IRS audit maybe my house will be claimed by some eminent domaine landgrab? Perhaps NSA may come calling, why did I sign that Save The Whales Facebook Petition? The EZ Pass lane is movin real easy mocking the gridlock that goes all the way to Baltimore a bifurcated Amerika is an exhaust spewing standing condemnation to small “R” republicanism glint from windshields is blinding my **** is hurtin and gettin back to Jersey gunna take a while GPS recalcs arrival time an intrepid Lyft driver feints and dodges into the traffic gaps drivin the shoulder urging his way to the Ronnie Reagan International I'm sure gettin heat from a backseat fare that shoulda pinged an hour earlier Irma creeps toward the Florida Keys faster then the glacial jam befuddling congress I think I just spotted Teabag Patriot Grover Norquist manning a rampart bestriding a highway overpass he’s got a clipboard in hand checking the boxes counting cars taking names who’s late? who’s unessential? man whatta jam we're in Music Selection: Jeff Beck: Freeway Jam Orlando 9/21/17 jbm

0

Sep 21, 2017

Sep 21, 2017 at 11:47 PM UTC

james-bradley-mccallum

DC Traffic Jam

Its 8:30 in the AM The Corn Moon is being routed by a Manassas cloud bank NPR be barking Irma this, Irma that my tremblin Rav4 stuck in the rush is idling behind a pair of gray hairs spewing leaded premium out the back of a big old black Buick sportin Florida tags inching north up I95 I’m relieved to be a thousand miles ahead of the monstrous ***** denuding Barbuda deflowering the ****** Islands and threatening to topple the last vestiges of Castro’s Dynasty by disrupting upscale bourgeois markets for cafe Cubanos, cool Cohibas and bold Bolivars she’s a CAT 5 counterclockwise spinning catastrophe churning through the Florida straits bending steel framed Golden Arches shaking the tiki shacks gobbling lives defiling tropical dreams the best meteorological minds on the Weather Channel plug the Euro model to plot a choreography of Irma’s cyclonic sashay they predict she’ll strut her stuff up a runway that perfectly dissects the Sunshine State ransacking the topography venting carnage like battalions of badly behaved frat boys, schools of guys gone wild sophomores, wreaking havoc during a Daytona Beach spring break droolin over ******* popping woodies at wet tee shirt contests urinating on doorstoops puking into Igloo Coolers and breaking their necks from ill advised second floor leaps into the shallow end of Motel 6 pools but I’m rolling north into the secure arms of a benign Mid Atlantic Summer like other refugees, my trunk is filled with baggage of fear and worry wondering if there’re be anything left to return to once Irma has spent herself with one last furious **** against the Chattanooga Bluffs of Lookout Mountain Morning Edition Is yodeling a common seasonal refrain the gubmint is just about outta cash congress needs to increase the debt limit My oh my, has the worm turned during the Obama years the GOP put us through a Teabag inspired nightmare gubmint shutdowns and sequestration shaved 15 points off every war profiteers vig it gave a well earned long overdue take the rest of the week off unpaid vacation to non essential gubmint workers while a cadre of wheelchair bound Greatest Generation military vets get locked out of the WWII Memorial on the National Mall this time around its different we have an Orange Hair in the office and there's some hyper sensitivity to raise the debt ceiling given that Harvey has yet to fully drain from the Houston bayous the colossal cleanup from that thrice in a Millennial lifetime storm has garnered bipartisan support to clean up the wreckage left behind by a badly behaved one star BnB lodger who took a week long leak into the delicate bayous of Southeast Texas yet we are infused with optimism that our Caucasian president and his GOP grovelers now mustered to the Oval Office will slow tango with the flummoxed no answer Dems to get the job done pigs do fly in DC Ryan and McConnell double date with Pelosi and Schumer get to heavy pettin from front row seats beholding droll Celebrity Apprentice reruns The Donald, Nancy and Chuck slip the room for a little menage au trois side action transforming Mitch and Paul into vacillating voyeurs who start jerking their dongs while POTUS, and his new found friends get busy workin the art of a deal rush hour peaks static traffic grows in concert with a swelling frenetic angst driving drivers to madness terrified they won't get paid if the debt ceiling don't rise they honk horns rev engines thumb iPhones and sing out primal screams unmindful drivers piloting Little Hondas bump cheap Beamers start a game of bumper cars dartin in and out of temporary gaps uncovered by the spastic fits and starts of temporary decongested ebbs and flows A $12 EZ Pass gambit is offered the fast lane on ramp has few takers just another pick your pocket gubmint scheme two express lanes lie vacant while three lanes of non premium roadway boast bumper to bumper inertness wasted fuel declining productivity skyrockets the wisdom of the invisible hand doesn't seem to be working DOJ bureaucrats In Camrys and Focuses dial the office to let somebody know they’ll be tardy gubmint contractors in silver Mercedes begin jubilantly honking horns NPR has just announced that Pelosi and Schumer joined the Orange team the rise in the debt ceiling will nullify their 15% sequestration pay cut NPR reports the National Cathedral will deconsecrate two hallowed stained glass windows of rebel generals R E Lee and Stonewall Jackson it's a terrible shame that the Episcopal Church will turn its back on the rich Dixie WASPS who commissioned these installations to commemorate the church's complicity in sanctifying the institution of slavery, WWJD? as I ponder this Anglican conundrum another object arrests my streaming consciousness upsetting an attention span shorter and less deep than the patch of oil disappearing under the front of the RAV as I thunder by at 5 MPH to the left I eye a funny looking building standing at attention next to a Bob Evans I’m convinced Its gotta be CIA a 15 story gubmint minaret a listening post wired to intercept mobile digital confabulations from crawling traffic inching along beneath its feet this thinking node pulsing with intelligence reeking with counterintelligence the tautological contradiction guarantees the stasis of our confused national consciousness strategically positioned to tune into the intractable Zeitgeist culling meta code planting data points In Big Data data farms running algos to discern bits of intelligence endeavoring to reveal future shock trends knows nothing reveals less the buildings cover is its acute conspicuousness gray steel frame silver tinted glass multiple wireless antennas black rimmed windows boldly proclaim any data entering this cheerless edifice must abandon all hope of ever being framed in a non duplicitous non self serving sentence the gray obelisk a national security citidel refracts the fear and loathing the sprawling global anxiety our civilization's discontent playing out in the captive soft parade ambling along the freeway jam imobilized at its stoop Moning Edition jingle follows urgent report of FEMA scamblin assets arbitraging Harvey and Irma triaging two tropical storm tragedies and a third girl just named Maria pushed off the Canaries and is on its way to a Puerto Rico homecoming while gubmint bureaucrats anxiously push on to their soulless offices the rush hour jam has peaked my WAZE is having a nervous breakdown next lane over a guy in a gold PT Cruiser is banging on his steering wheel don’t think this unessential worker will win September's civil servant of the month award Ex Military K Street defectors slamming big civie Hummers getting six mpg lobby for a larger apportionment of mercenary dollars for Blackwater's global war on terror Prius Hybrids silently roll on politely driven by EPA Hangers On hoping to save a bit of the planet from an Agency Director intent on the agency's deconstruction the third 500 year hurricane of the season is of no consequence obsolete GMC Jimmy’s are manned by Steve Mnunchin wannabes the frugal treasury dept ledger keepers pour good money after bad to keep the national debt and there clanking jalopies working driving Malibus DOL stalwarts stickin with the Union give biz to GMC nice lookin chicks young coed interns with big daddy doners fix their faces and come to work whenever they want my *** is killing me I squirm in my seat to relieve my aching sacroiliac and begin to wonder if my name will appear on some computer printout today? can’t afford an IRS audit maybe my house will be claimed by some eminent domaine landgrab? Perhaps NSA may come calling, why did I sign that Save The Whales Facebook Petition? The EZ Pass lane is movin real easy mocking the gridlock that goes all the way to Baltimore a bifurcated Amerika is an exhaust spewing standing condemnation to small “R” republicanism glint from windshields is blinding my **** is hurtin and gettin back to Jersey gunna take a while GPS recalcs arrival time an intrepid Lyft driver feints and dodges into the traffic gaps drivin the shoulder urging his way to the Ronnie Reagan International I'm sure gettin heat from a backseat fare that shoulda pinged an hour earlier Irma creeps toward the Florida Keys faster then the glacial jam befuddling congress I think I just spotted Teabag Patriot Grover Norquist manning a rampart bestriding a highway overpass he’s got a clipboard in hand checking the boxes counting cars taking names who’s late? who’s unessential? man whatta jam we're in Music Selection: Jeff Beck: Freeway Jam Orlando 9/21/17 jbm

466

Just moments after the eye stops staring insatiably at us You can hear the flicking on of all those machines As you walk down the flooded streets so slow The violinists pull the strings, and on they go One to the left of us, three to the right Two in front of us, and none to the behind The conductors swing their arms The symphony clangs, alarms Lighting up the homes and the tv screens Chilling the musicians, and the shaky beams Walk around some more, you'll hear one hit a low C While you slosh through the street's home sea

0

Sep 21, 2017

Sep 21, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC

anthony-james-brandy

Symphony of Generators (An Irma Poem)

Just moments after the eye stops staring insatiably at us You can hear the flicking on of all those machines As you walk down the flooded streets so slow The violinists pull the strings, and on they go One to the left of us, three to the right Two in front of us, and none to the behind The conductors swing their arms The symphony clangs, alarms Lighting up the homes and the tv screens Chilling the musicians, and the shaky beams Walk around some more, you'll hear one hit a low C While you slosh through the street's home sea

12

terribly trashed, torn and tossed around the people's belongings litter the ground recovery after tempest where to start everything in the shape of twisted art rebuilding the job so enormously big who'll help them mend the tattered rig where's humanity's aiding twig homes and lively-hoods crushed like a fig an aftermath to contemplate fierce driving winds and rains did saturate the Atlantic's forces wouldn't abate fury unleashed as if in much hate teardrops falling falling so hard teardrops falling over forlorn yard

0

Sep 16, 2017

Sep 16, 2017 at 7:37 PM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Forlorn Yard

terribly trashed, torn and tossed around the people's belongings litter the ground recovery after tempest where to start everything in the shape of twisted art rebuilding the job so enormously big who'll help them mend the tattered rig where's humanity's aiding twig homes and lively-hoods crushed like a fig an aftermath to contemplate fierce driving winds and rains did saturate the Atlantic's forces wouldn't abate fury unleashed as if in much hate teardrops falling falling so hard teardrops falling over forlorn yard

42

Have you felt the pain in my city yet ? Winds on a surge, Houses and minds overturned, Life's taking an unwanted turn. You can't be surprised, This hurricane has no soul. These roads leading to your path of destiny Been cracked by too much debris on main street The president isn't gonna do too much about it, He's too comfortable laid back in his seat. Chop Another Tree. How can america come together in a nation wide crisis When we can't come united to solve the real everyday problem ? These power lines and houses been falling Flood levels in Florida and Texas are rising Didn't this world learn about broken hearts in New Orleans ? Keeping your life in order As the ones that love build on pain to peace Only if you see through the rain, life's tears, a world's need. Have you felt the pain in my city ? ©MH

0

Sep 16, 2017

Sep 16, 2017 at 12:05 PM UTC

manuel-hutchinson-iii

The Hurricane.

Have you felt the pain in my city yet ? Winds on a surge, Houses and minds overturned, Life's taking an unwanted turn. You can't be surprised, This hurricane has no soul. These roads leading to your path of destiny Been cracked by too much debris on main street The president isn't gonna do too much about it, He's too comfortable laid back in his seat. Chop Another Tree. How can america come together in a nation wide crisis When we can't come united to solve the real everyday problem ? These power lines and houses been falling Flood levels in Florida and Texas are rising Didn't this world learn about broken hearts in New Orleans ? Keeping your life in order As the ones that love build on pain to peace Only if you see through the rain, life's tears, a world's need. Have you felt the pain in my city ? ©MH

23

evri dai weni *** hom i say ello too mi famulee dey sai hii bak i an prowd perent if i hav mi 909t cild i well be appie wen i goo to slep i drem of mi famelie wre arr habingg a jood tiem eeting luch in de prak ssomany appy memores

0

Sep 12, 2017

Sep 12, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC

magicbroccoli66

wen i am hom

evri dai weni *** hom i say ello too mi famulee dey sai hii bak i an prowd perent if i hav mi 909t cild i well be appie wen i goo to slep i drem of mi famelie wre arr habingg a jood tiem eeting luch in de prak ssomany appy memores

8

we is no kind *** we lik de nazoos dewinch cakle esz wbi pnik hedponesw are chool in mi book hoorecane irmia no es divertido., we here at buzfeed tink we no wot u are dooeng mnanspred is de goood teng ti do evri dai dundundunduncdundunduindunduindundundudn pie. gavery is dood cor my vanes

0

Sep 12, 2017

Sep 12, 2017 at 9:08 AM UTC

magicbroccoli66

elepant

we is no kind *** we lik de nazoos dewinch cakle esz wbi pnik hedponesw are chool in mi book hoorecane irmia no es divertido., we here at buzfeed tink we no wot u are dooeng mnanspred is de goood teng ti do evri dai dundundunduncdundunduindunduindundundudn pie. gavery is dood cor my vanes

7

Its raining baby outside umbrellas wont help you nor will your tears surely not your fears baby girl pack your bags not more than a single memory okay just maybe 2 flashlights baby get them too the wind is mad its fighting you don't fight back just hide yourself The oceans are marching with armies of wind but nations of faith stand up still charge up baby yourself and phones too stay calm baby God heard yours and mine too crackers and cookies keep them too mummy and bubby hug them too Whistles and voices Save them too Keep speaking Let me hear your noise Storms may be loud And oceans may be sound But none can bring you down For hope you prevail This will all pass I promise you that like me and you hurricanes die too

0

Sep 11, 2017

Sep 11, 2017 at 11:32 AM UTC

ex-somebody

Stay safe

Its raining baby outside umbrellas wont help you nor will your tears surely not your fears baby girl pack your bags not more than a single memory okay just maybe 2 flashlights baby get them too the wind is mad its fighting you don't fight back just hide yourself The oceans are marching with armies of wind but nations of faith stand up still charge up baby yourself and phones too stay calm baby God heard yours and mine too crackers and cookies keep them too mummy and bubby hug them too Whistles and voices Save them too Keep speaking Let me hear your noise Storms may be loud And oceans may be sound But none can bring you down For hope you prevail This will all pass I promise you that like me and you hurricanes die too

36

They said it was a category five Thank god its roar Turn into a category four Laying waste to many a life Wiping away the property The Caribbean’s sign of liberty From the mishap of Grenada in 1983 10 dead They can still look ahead But the thoughts keep going to Florida But didn’t think Trump kept you in his thoughts did ya Took you a while to get the evacuation through As the political tensions grew And Trump declared it as not good not good The closest you can come to trifling is by saying that Irma isn’t the result of a good mood But enough chitter chatter because there is an SOS on the rise In such a situation climate deniers consider climate change to be the reason as their surmise Rush Limbaugh cannot see the truth Because his face is buried deep in the smoke that will pollute Hurricane Irma I pray the woman in your name understands and leaves the children alone Because there are no sins to atone for if they are orphaned and dead alone They’ll be on the prowl for food and money and liquor and ending up appraising the days that are sunny But funnily anyway they are because you business ******* have increased your influx of money from the disaster stricken many Water, air trips you’ve been taking business studies from **** Cheney

0

Sep 10, 2017

Sep 10, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC

aditya-roy

No Hurricane Irma No Shawarma

They said it was a category five Thank god its roar Turn into a category four Laying waste to many a life Wiping away the property The Caribbean’s sign of liberty From the mishap of Grenada in 1983 10 dead They can still look ahead But the thoughts keep going to Florida But didn’t think Trump kept you in his thoughts did ya Took you a while to get the evacuation through As the political tensions grew And Trump declared it as not good not good The closest you can come to trifling is by saying that Irma isn’t the result of a good mood But enough chitter chatter because there is an SOS on the rise In such a situation climate deniers consider climate change to be the reason as their surmise Rush Limbaugh cannot see the truth Because his face is buried deep in the smoke that will pollute Hurricane Irma I pray the woman in your name understands and leaves the children alone Because there are no sins to atone for if they are orphaned and dead alone They’ll be on the prowl for food and money and liquor and ending up appraising the days that are sunny But funnily anyway they are because you business ******* have increased your influx of money from the disaster stricken many Water, air trips you’ve been taking business studies from **** Cheney

24

We in South Florida pride ourselves on getting hit by hurricanes. We take photos of how bad it is and post it on Instagram with appropriate doomsday event hashtagging. Riding these things out is like riding a bike. If you can shop for Black Friday and Christmas every year, you can shop for this. Take pride in your water divination skills and line-standing endurance feats. We are the state of Disneyworld ride lines that wrap around corners in swamp heat, and lines of red light bumper lights on i-95 Monday through Friday: this is another day in the office! Putting up shutters is like putting up Christmas decorations: we get creative Like today, we wedged pink and blue floatation noodles against the frames of the windows in arcs resembling a post-storm rainbow. My 2 year old daughter said it was beautiful. One day of this is someone else's seven months of winter. Remember, people evacuate to here annually! So do not feel bad for fleeing north to them. The news keeps saying stay calm as they embellish how dangerous this storm ride is going to be like some death stunt on a David Blaine TV special. He went underwater in "Drowned Alive": he didn't drown. He got buried underground: he rose from it. Per the broadcasted hype, the payoff is we won't die! Here's some good news: you can leave what's out of reach and in the sky to the heavens, and what's in your mind to the steps you took on the ground below: all doors closed, stuff unplugged, things that resemble missiles stashed in closets, flashlights ready like lightsabers to battle this named foe from above. It will hit the worried and unworried just the same, revealing the gas station line cutters from the people who help you with shutters; the faith from the fear of those who choose to pray; the human heart and its varying sizes as it beats faster with the darkening of the sky. At least we aren't trees: they cannot hide from this revealing event. See how they all remain serene up until the second the wind arrives, leaves rattled only then, roots of varying depths being that which holds them together either they bend with grace or they break.

0

Sep 8, 2017

Sep 8, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC

Antinoart

Prayer for the Storm Riders

We in South Florida pride ourselves on getting hit by hurricanes. We take photos of how bad it is and post it on Instagram with appropriate doomsday event hashtagging. Riding these things out is like riding a bike. If you can shop for Black Friday and Christmas every year, you can shop for this. Take pride in your water divination skills and line-standing endurance feats. We are the state of Disneyworld ride lines that wrap around corners in swamp heat, and lines of red light bumper lights on i-95 Monday through Friday: this is another day in the office! Putting up shutters is like putting up Christmas decorations: we get creative Like today, we wedged pink and blue floatation noodles against the frames of the windows in arcs resembling a post-storm rainbow. My 2 year old daughter said it was beautiful. One day of this is someone else's seven months of winter. Remember, people evacuate to here annually! So do not feel bad for fleeing north to them. The news keeps saying stay calm as they embellish how dangerous this storm ride is going to be like some death stunt on a David Blaine TV special. He went underwater in "Drowned Alive": he didn't drown. He got buried underground: he rose from it. Per the broadcasted hype, the payoff is we won't die! Here's some good news: you can leave what's out of reach and in the sky to the heavens, and what's in your mind to the steps you took on the ground below: all doors closed, stuff unplugged, things that resemble missiles stashed in closets, flashlights ready like lightsabers to battle this named foe from above. It will hit the worried and unworried just the same, revealing the gas station line cutters from the people who help you with shutters; the faith from the fear of those who choose to pray; the human heart and its varying sizes as it beats faster with the darkening of the sky. At least we aren't trees: they cannot hide from this revealing event. See how they all remain serene up until the second the wind arrives, leaves rattled only then, roots of varying depths being that which holds them together either they bend with grace or they break.

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