"firefighters" poems
I love a sunburnt country,
but now the land's ablaze.
the oxygen we breathe has turned to dust
yet our request for help is denied.
I love a sunburnt country,
but there's not much left to last.
Firefighters aren't getting paid,
Neither are their bills.
yet our leader claims we're all fine
but he can afford to jet away.
The wildlife is damaged.
Koalas are losing homes.
much like the population
as the fires rip through their walls.
I love my sunburnt country,
but this has gone on too long.
while it's nice you're in hawaii Mr. Morrison,
everyone else is left to stand alone..
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 8:18 PM UTC
Why are my heroes less real than yours? I'm so **** sick of that stupid cliche "cops and soldiers, and firefighters up up and away." None of them were there for me in any way.
I don't give a crap if you won't follow or if I never see a "like" or a "favorite" again.
God almighty couldn't stop my pen.
So why are my heroes less real then yours?
Isn't god just as real as mine?
So shut the hell up and get back in line.
you know who was there the day I couldn't stand.
Not your heroes playing wars in the sand.
Not your cops, who were off killing kids.
No fire here, turn a deaf ear.
The ones who were there for me on that day. Was a hero in red with horns on his head. A man all in black who dressed like a bat. A solider that stood for what a nation aspires. And a immigrant from who knows where.
They taught me my morals from birth this I swear. They taught me right. They taught me wrong. I don't give a **** if you think I'm wrong.
I will write comics as bright as the sun. I will save worlds with words. I won't apologise, don't insult the fire in my eyes.
I've never questioned to what you aspired. I never met your heroes before but I respect the story's of yours in the war. Of cops who helped kids who didn't have a dime, of firefighters saving people in time.
so leave mine alone they saved plenty they have. Even if its only the life of a depressed lonely lad.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
She became a firefighter at a very young age
Passed with flying colors at every stage
Determined to follow the footsteps of her family
That is the dream that she did see.
She built up her body like any man
But had the gentlest hands.
The kindest heart that anyone would know
And that was something that she did show.
She would put the person on her back
Looking forward and would never slack
Her goal was to save all the lives she can
That was her goal, that was her plan.
And every time she looked at her children
As a mother would often do- and see the pride in their eyes
And in the faces of the lives she saved and prevented
Them from going to an early grave.
Then she would know that the choice she made
To be a firefighter would take her spirits so much higher.
So to the firefighters I salute you one and all
So stand proud, stand tall.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
If you think it's tough being a firefighter,
try being a firefighter's wife.
And if you think it's hard being a firefighter's wife,
try being a firefighters daughter
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC
I long for solitude;
The day's barking tyrants
Drained my reservoir.
Thirsty for life,
I search for my oasis
On life's arid expanses.
I witness the crucifixion;
I watch firefighters burn books;
I can't resist the sirens' call.
The ionizing words mutate me;
I read, and I'm pierced.
The tyrant's visage, shattered.
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 11:17 PM UTC
Preoccupation with making something permanent
A feeling of expectation
incorporation of a certain situation
or habitation into life, for good
It makes me freak out.
Desire,
for a certain thing to happen
fear of that something actually happening
Or that it's something that might be permanent.
Worry,
the attempt to find certainty
the desire to control things.
Control you, controlling me
I'm afraid you'll find my black
It will come back again.
It's like an arc weld done incorrectly
Eventually it will start to bleed
And fall apart.
But I dreamt about welding and you welding me
into something permanent
something desirable
something non-penetrable.
You had me molded against the truck and...
I don't know who you are, but you put your fire in me
So deeply it burns.
A fire that firefighters can't dissolve
Doctors can't resolve.
You're in me,
and I love you.
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 7:15 PM UTC
Strike a light.
Simple.
Imagine.
Should the great fire of London become again lit?
History.
Ablaze.
In the blink of an eye all gone.
Smouldering remnants.
All Britain’s yesterday’s destroyed.
Gone in a puff of green smoke.
A world of tourism gone in a flash.
Powers that be, think of the cash!
Loyal fire people out on strike.
Spent as matches, if you like!
Even the great fires of anywhere.
Firefighters all out on strike.
Support these souls of bravery.
Stand side by side in strength.
Stand in solidarity.
Far and wide.
Our nation great
No choices left.
Loss of life.
Our nation maybe falls again
(c) Livvi
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
We can never forget September 11, 2001
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.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 8:29 AM UTC
It was a year and eleven days before my birthday
When the event occurred
The date was 9/11
And people all over called it.
Twin buildings fell
In New York, it was sad
Everyone watched and everyone mourned
The second shot heard around the world
A whole planet cried
For the ones that it lost
School was off
Jobs were too
But the firefighters worked
As well as the policemen
On the day 9/11 in 2001
The whole world cried
People sang for those who died
We'll never forget the dreadful day
The day the Twin Towers went away.
People were saved
And lived to tell the tale
And those who retell it today
Know it all too well
The Twin Towers crashed
And the Twin Towers burned
And everyone saw
And everyone learned
We'll never get over
The day in September
All we do is remember
Remember.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
the hardest surgery is the one you perform on yourself.
Steady?
Ready?
No anesthesia but a chuckle of nervous humor
the first incision across your heart.
When you finish (many months later)
you put the scalpel down, wave weakly
to the clapping colleagues hugging each other in disbelief
from the observatory, sterile and eager
you give them a wan grin
and hope they've watched closely
so that now they know how...
how to do this.
At twenty-something, I was taught by Fear
who said nothing matters
and then at twenty-something-else I was taught by Faith
who said anything matters
And she wasn't the Sunday kind of Faith that you find
clasped between your palms, clasped like you're afraid
that if you let go the Faith will just tumble out and break.
No, she was the Faith that was bigger than God and so intimate
that sometimes I was the Faith, sometimes you were the Faith,
and sometimes the Faith was me.
So really, Faith doesn't have a name.
But Faith and Fear, they both breathe, they're each lung
and when I fill one, the other billows, after all
you need two to breathe.
And so then I, feeling bold, learned about Bravery.
I had heard about it in newspapers and history book indexes
and in our local volunteer firefighters.
Wondered if I could buy it.
Wondered how much it goes for.
But I couldn't find Brave until the moment I gave up on it
and said, ***** it, I'm so scared but I don't care anymore,
I'll just do it, Brave be ******
And surely enough, it was hiding beneath the tremors.
So really, Brave was the Siamese twin of I'll Just Do It.
which, by the way, wasn't in the glossary of this or any history book.
Everything changes, you know?
I'm changing, you're changing.
Oh, it storms me like the sea!
I secretly raise my glass to stasis, my faraway frenemy.
Don't tell the other Sagittarians, they'd exile me surely.
Change, letting go of my old faces
feels too close to dying,
feels too close to leaving you behind.
And I'm not ready to leave you behind.
Oh the West, keep your Mountains.
If only for a little longer.
I've excised my soul again and again
transplanted and sutured
but there's just no time.
Even with these visions from under the knife-
there's just no time to heal
before I'm laid on the table again.
*Faith hold me-
Fear teach me
so I can...*
Steady.
Please- stay with me.
Ready?
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
The raging flame,
That leaves behind havoc,
The deceased have all the prayers from us,
People that expired were a lot,
The forest summoned the firefighters,
Asking them to help the people in need.
The flames could be diminished,
But the gas cylinder caused destruction,
So many bodies,
So many coffins,
So many people crying for justice.
This was not but an accident,
An evil man was behind this,
It was a game,
To make these innocent people pay !
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
Big Balls
AC/DC sang about these items of bounce
shooting them through baskets weaved
game winning corner kicks keeper couldn't pounce
stories of bravery not all believed
soldiers on the front and city cops too
firefighters saving lives and endangering their own
the size of the owner means little it's true
in the side pocket pressure of feeling alone
heroes and villains alike need at least one
95 mph fast one you try to hit with a stick
even sea lions and seals use them for fun
it makes me laugh to see them do a trick
admitting you were wrong can take a large pair
painful thought to see how far you can kick instead
through the distant goal posts of life if you dare
served with sauce and pasta and slice of garlic bread
you can club them with a driver if you like
or seek your destiny looking thru crystal deep inside
but guys hate when they slip while riding a bike
by showing yours you won't lose your pride
Gomer LePoet....
Aug 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 at 6:31 PM UTC
i played
with dolls as a
kid to learn what it
was like to be perfect
and to live a
perfect
life.
you
know, dolls
did not teach me
to hate my body
the people that made them
did. my dolls were secret agents
teachers, scientists and
firefighters.
but the
people
that
made them
shaped them into
stereotypical perfection
leading me to believe, that
you had to be perfect to achieve your
dreams. this was so ingrained within
me what when i was older, dolls were no
longer toys of my imagination, instead they were models to look just like, because
in my mind, nobody who ever looked like me would be made by a doll company, because they make perfect people and only perfect people were allowed to follow their dreams. only perfect people were allowed to do perfect things.
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 1:23 AM UTC
It's 3am,
The alarm never stops,
Red lights flashing so bright,
Another call to duty,
Driving on the highway smokes and flames reaching the sky,
I can feel the vibration & voices from distances screaming aloud for help,
My heart bleeds for these souls,
Only few might live to see the night,
Racing up the stairway,
My faith is unknown to me,
As long as my flesh & blood brings hope to man,
death I'm not scared of,
Tears highly undeniable,
As i watch these souls pass out in my very own eyes,
So scary,scary scary I say,
If this was a movie I'd fast forward,
Little are we paid,
running into burning buildings
While others run out,
I have got a family also,
My little daughter must be awake anticipating my arrival,
Dad promised he was gonna be home early,
Pick up,pick up the cellphone,
Baby if I don't make it,
Read this at night,
I will be by your side,
even when my shadow isn't visible,
The fire is becoming intense,
hell is not a place to be,
i can barely breath,
Hope when I'm gone my name will be among the great heroes of time?
I Hope the rescued will value their life ,
Knowing I traded mine for theirs?
Paradise i pray for,
Enough of the blazing fire.
Booooooom.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
2k19 month of September
Alarmed an international terror
Climate change, change in weather
Drought across the nation
Turned into fire Strom centre
5 months from now
We can still witness the ember
Smoke, ashes from bushfire
Travelled thousands of acres
This inferno had us surrender
We lost a million of species endangered
And pushed many near extinction
Humans were no exception
32 were lost in this render
People lost their land of ancestors
Houses which were a place of
Laughter, revitalization and relaxation
Now are nothing but melted shelters
Firefighters to social writers
All jumped to help out the situation
From taking control over fire
To spread awareness
Seeking for helpers
Nature finally blessed us
It rained and things got under control
Before fire would swallow everything
And melt us...
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 6:32 AM UTC
[These are quotes taken from a New York Magazine article around 10 years ago. They are all from firefighters]
"doing funerals....getting the bunting, hanging the bunting...step by step...
When it became a myth, the whole event...
people were terrified, crapping their pants...a woman in the lobby...no legs...her face...like someone took it off with a saw.
Why did I survive?
...None of 'em were ever found. Not even a tool.
I didn't see victims. They were dust... When the wind blew, you couldn't grab them.
long spears of glass...Huge panels turned into shards...a piece of window, a small piece....It's right here in my hands now.
...can't look at a plane landing"
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
In the dead of night
What do you find
When you slip outside
Your regular mind
Instead of drifting
Off to sleep
Take a walk
On down the street
What you find
May be a surprise
A whole family huddled
Under the nearest highrise
People just like
You and me
Except with no home
Stuck on the street
The politicians pass over
The firefighters scream by
The business execs don’t see
But the child asks why
Why is the house empty
With a man outside
Why is he a ghost
If he is alive
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Night, the oldest of mysteries
settles, spreading like hunger.
A pall of mist
shrouding over the world.
Siren sounds and firefighters,
drunken brawls, and
receding beats.
Eyes of wonder asleep,
emerging out of
the network of shadows
growing creeper-like.
Stray nuggets of light
also reach the eyes shut
in meditation.
Furtive shadows of passion,
elsewhere. Muffled joys;
Shades of bottle-grey.
Cricket-song. Ululations
faint. Raspy owl-calls,
intermittent.
In the deep, secret
rites of initiation.
Somewhere in the far
highlands
the stars and
the broken moon peep in.
Old song on a highway truck.
Little lamps adorning the hills,
courtyards in the distance.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
*Five months for a teenage brain is a lifetime to be with someone...add ten more days and that's how long i got to keep you. This isn't second grade you don't get a trophy for merely breathing and that's all i was doing. Breathing you in every second i got until we stopped seeing each other outside of school. I thought i was oxygen deprived but i was only deprived of you. Fought against my gut feeling that i could not keep my promise of forever. I wanted to burn the memories we had in picture frames. To shatter them like i shattered us. I cant walk past you with out the little pieces of my heart aching. I may have been the little spoon but i had the entire world at my fingertips when you were by my side.
The day it officially ended we said We'd keep in touch. That We'd be best of friends but now we don't even say hello. Bad habits have been restarted and **** the nicotine high is so lovely when i think about you..i forget. The head rush and the burn in my throat i think the firefighters told me i had too much smoke in my lungs for it to be just from a fire. So when they took me to the hospital to try and clear my airway not realizing it was the hospital i asked for my one call. And it was to you but i think i had too much nicotine in my god **** veins pumping straight to my brain that i didnt realize when you answered id be ripping off the scabs that were helping you heal*
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 3:08 AM UTC
I was burning my walls
when freedom had called
but not long after
did those firefighters have it stalled.
It was hard to fight back
when the flames died down
the walls grew back
and I fell down -
But what they still couldn't dim
was the fire I had
burning within.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 8:50 PM UTC
LA burns, smoke blackens sky,
people flee and abandon cars,
90 and 100 mile an hour winds
feed and fan the flames, people
losing everything, even being
rich, or famous cannot save their
big homes and life's possessions.
Someplace in that expanding,
raging inferno my son, an Oregon
Fire Chief leads 300 Firefighters
and their 75 engines and water tenders
over 900 miles south into the fire storm.
Along with firefighters from other
states. Mutual support needed & rendered.
One of my son's firemen is his own son,
and my 21year old rookie grandson
with a little over one year on the job.
His seasoned father has fought many
battles with all kinds of fires, he set to
retire in May after 30 years on the job.
He has seen it all, with never a scratch
or a "singe", but my grandson has never
experienced anything of this magnitude,
being one of a 4-man truck crew battling
side by side in the belly of a raging beast.
All these 30 years I've worried for my son's
safety, now it starts anew, for our boy barely
a man that now walks in his father's shoes.
I will not sleep well until they are all
home safely. I grieve for the victims
of this awful tragedy.
Jan 9, 2025
Jan 9, 2025 at 12:37 AM UTC
That day stands sharp in focus
Whenever it's called to mind;
A peaceful Sunday Morning,
just before the Harvest time.
They held a picnic benefit
Each year on public land
For the Widows and the Orphans
Of the firefighters clan
.
All gladly paid to enter
and bought chance books besides.
The old men brought their families
The young men brought their brides.
Bouncing on the rides and slides
erected for them here-
The children had the best of times
as their mothers hovered near.
The men were cooking barbecue,
Tossing footballs, drinking beers
You'd recognize their names-
because you hear them once a year.
The day was nearly cloudless
Seldom was the sky so blue.
Who knew so many would be lost
before that week was through.
Within two days too many here
were cut down in their prime.
Betrayed by poor equipment-
They could not escape in time.
But I, permitted to grow old,
remain to testify
about the courage of my friends-.
so that their memory never dies.
That day is sharp in focus
Whenever it's called to mind;
A peaceful Sunday Morning,
just before the Harvest time.
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 1:36 PM UTC
the day i get an invitation to your wedding and it tells me to wear white, i'll wear black, and when you ask me why i'll tell you that i feel like i'm attending my own funeral.
i'll sit there and wonder if you ever hear the sound of broken promises resounding like church bells at a wedding for people that weren't meant to be?
when you're standing at the altar saying vows they'll sound like death threats to my ears. you'll look at me and mouth the words "im sorry" like pulled back triggers on a gun.
i'll remember i was bulletproof until your eyes looked at mine, and then i became the biggest target in the room, and this is why you'll always be a lesson in broken hearts.
i loved you like a forest fire that was out of control, like there were a million firefighters trying to put out the spark we had and someone just kept adding fuel to the fire.
i tried so hard to conceal my butterflies like lighters , unaware that you'd already stolen them from my pockets and extinguished any idea that things could've ever been different between us.
now i understand i was just a broken metaphor to you and it makes me mad that i used to spend most of my time of daydreaming that maybe i'd be the person you spend your last breath saying "i love you" to.
when its asked if anyone has any objections i'll smile and say, "i loved him to," and just like you did, i'll walk away.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
We are firefighters you and I.
Fighting back a blind hot fire.
You, because of our impossible situation and the Other.
Me, because of my impossible situation and your Other.
I'm trying to keep my fire low and starving, or only a faint glow even,
but a whiff of air is enough,
enough to set my whole existence on fire.
Lay homes in ashes if not drowned or extinguished.
I'm grateful...
you keep your fanning breath of air
a swift tickling breeze for my sake.
Keeping your flare out of my flammable hair
but God, I want to burn so badly
I want to flame high, white and hot.
Not allowed to do that though....sadly...
I want to explode in a firestorm.
Consume everything in my way.
not listen to what they'd say
Turn everything into sorrow and ashes.
Let my heated tongues of flame lick you,
until you too is burnt to pieces.
Burnt pieces of charcoals
that I'd keep in my heated heart.
A charred smoking reminder
of how devastating this fire of our love is.
How ugly to all that is beautiful and true.
Once letting my fire burn free there is no taming it,
no pardon, no wit
So, thank you my love!
For not fanning this fire
with more than
your flammable existence
It is oxygen enough.
I've lost all resistance.
So, thank you my love!
For not doing it my way.
Not letting me lay
my world in ached ruins.
It doesn't seem fair,
but let me slowly suffocate,
Turn your love into hate
make me choke and gasp for air.
A faint flickering flame
Pitiful and tame
As my fireman, put it out while you still can...
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 2:24 AM UTC
when the fire blows up, and the smoke engulfs the home we once knew
is it a sign for me to start running?
i bit too hard on the bullets as i waited
six months flew by, now i'm stuck staring at this view
frozen, anxious, twice as vengeful when you left me
"is it time to call mom now?" I asked you
but you smiled a maniacal smile as the flames spread from where you left the matches burning
i wish i knew better than to trust you to guard it
smoke and ash are all that's left of the home we took 20 years to build
i tell you "there's no closure when our doors are flimsy clothes from your soiled dresser"
clothes that were worn by people you said were just friends
and still, you never showed any guilt
i shake my head and play off these misfortunes as if they're a dream
as i fail and blame you for starting it
as i curse you for burning a fragile house to the ground
as if it wasn't the same house you lived in
the firefighters come and you tell the same sob story
i'll side with the truth and resentment, they'll keep me company as you bury me
remember this as the day when you burned out the good years
and the betrayal of your only family.
Jun 3, 2023
Jun 3, 2023 at 2:23 PM UTC