The closest fires were near enough for us to hear the crackling flames and the yells of firemen. Little fires grew into big ones even as we watched. Big ones died down under the firemen's valor only to break out again later.
quote by Ernie Pyle
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Our Firemen
Lines delivered at a Firemen's Soiriee [sic] in the days of the hand engines.
Our youth and beauty here arranged,
In honor of the Fire Brigade ;
And now every man is ready
To obey the bugle of Brady.
And always willing for to ralley
At the trumpet sound of Walley,
To the fire they rush at once,
Led on by gallant Captain Vance.
The firemen, now, their only strife,
It seems to be a race for life,
Which engine first shall reach the fire
And cause the wild flames to expire.
poem by James McIntyre
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Fire On the Ridge
In the west there is fearsome fire in the hills.
Full of dread, the people watch as flames burn upon the ridge.
Fierce winds fan the fury where the fires singe.
Meanwhile there’s hot air blasting forth from high upon the hill,
Pointless wind aimed at stirring some futile acts of men.
Strong winds fan the flames.
Embers ignite the blaze again.
While homes are lost across the land,
A burning night gives way to the dawn of restless men.
Rhetoric fails to charm while flames move across the land.
Fires burn readily across dry mountaintops.
Drought’s danger seeps down the slopes.
Now the valley too is brown and the pastures parched.
Wherever stray embers fall, fires will catch and burn
Until nowhere can they be stopped.
Will anything escape the flames fanned by these raging relentless winds?
The firemen grow weary,
They know neither sleep nor rest.
All their wisdom and efforts fail to meet the fires growing test.
They seek the help of younger men to aid them in the night,
But none can hear or heed the call; they are ensnared in some other fight.
The chief in command stands out of touch safe on the distant hill.
Insulated from the desperate fight, no fires will he end.
People in the valley see him perched emotionless and still.
If he even has a plan from this distance they can’t tell.
They fear for the safety of those who fight and for their own as well.
They fear the loss of all they love and treasure beyond price.
The fields once waved golden and valleys were lush with finest fruits.
The harvest, which they toiled toward, is in peril of being lost.
Will fires claim the victory and devour all they cherish?
Or will they rise against the blaze, fighting fire with fire, before they perish?
Through night a western ridge stays lit, while across this land no one dare now rest.
poem by Mary Havran
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Amber Glow
Amber Glow
Red and yellow painted leaves
hang idly within the trees
They break and sail along the breeze
As fires of Autumn's time
They dance and surf upon the ground
Overlap each other with ruffling sound
A setting I am glad I found
As fires of Autumn's time
Like fires of the Autumn season
they leap and dance without a reason
A factor of Autumns many seasons
As fires of Autumn's time'
The grey clouds break, the sun appears
The dancing leaves appear to sere
These flames its kept for many years
As fires of Autumn's time
poem by Wesley Mincin
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Farenheit 451
Remember, the firemen are rarely necessary
When books are replaced with Kindles and Nooks,
and content resides on the cloud.
It is relatively easy to delet certain works
at the whim of the haughty and proud.
If libraries falter, wither and die
The poor will lose access to the printed word.
Ten percent of the market will quickly dry up
and the price of a book gets absurd.
Remember, the firemen are rarely necessary.
The pleasure we had in turning each page
as our minds raced ahead to the end.
Short battery life never hindered our quest
when Dick, Jane and Spot were our friends.
A storm on the Sun bringing ionized rays
and digital files are undone.
and force us to search yellow crumbling pages
for rumors of Kipling and Donne.
Remember, the firemen are rarely necessary.
Was Bradbury right? Should we all memorize
the words born of our favorite pen?
Imagine reciting Shakespeare’s Hamlet by heart
so that silence won’t win in the end.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Living Trees Died
only fools will throw open doors windows
light massive ego fossil oil or log burner fires
when living trees died to fuel winter fires
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Disastrous Fire at Scarborough
'Twas in the year of 1898, and on the 8th of June,
A mother and six children met with a cruel doom
In one of the most fearful fires for some years past
And as the spectators gazed upon them they stood aghast
The fire broke out in a hairdresser's, in the town of Scarborough,
And as the fire spread it filled the people's hearts with sorrow;
But the police and the fire brigade were soon on the ground,
Then the hose and reel were quickly sent round.
Oh! it was horrible to see the flames leaping up all around,
While amongst the spectators the silence was profound,
As they saw a men climb out to the parapet high,
Resolved to save his life, or in the attempt to die!
And he gave one half frantic leap, with his heart full of woe,
And came down upon the roof of a public-house 20 feet below;
But, alas! he slipped and fell through the skylight,
And received cuts and bruises: oh, what a horrible sight!
He was the tenant of the premises, Mr Brookes,
And for his wife and family he enquires, with anxious looks,
But no one could tell him, it did appear,
And when told so adown his cheeks flowed many a tear.
He had been sleeping by himself on the second floor,
When suddenly alarmed, he thought he'd make sure,
And try to escape from the burning pile with his life,
And try and save his family and his wife.
The fire brigade played on the first door with greet speed,
But the flames had very inflammable fuel upon which to feed,
So that the fire spread with awful rapidity,
And in twenty minutes the building was doomed to the fourth storey.
The firemen wrought with might and main,
But still the fire did on them gain,
That it was two hours before they could reach the second floor,
The heat being so intense they could scarcely it endure.
And inside all the time a woman and six children were there,
And when the firemen saw them, in amazement they did stare;
The sight that met their eyes made them for to start
Oh, Heaven! the sight was sufficient to rend the strongest heart.
For there was Mrs Brookes stretched dead on the floor,
Who had fallen in trying her escape for to procure.
She was lying with one arm over her ten months old child,
And her cries for help, no doubt, were frantic and wild;
And part of her arm was burned off as it lay above
The child she was trying to shield, which shows a mother's love.
For the baby's flesh was partly uninjured by the flames,
Which shows that the loving mother had endured great pains;
It, however, met its death by suffocation,
And as the spectators gazed thereon, it filled their hearts with consternation.
The firemen acted heroicallv, without any dread,
And when they entered the back premises they found the six children dead;
But Mr Brookes, 'tis said, is still alive,
And I hope for many years he will survive.
Oh, Heaven! it is cruel to perish by fire,
Therefore let us be watchful before to our beds we retire,
And see that everything is in safe order before we fall asleep,
And pray that God o'er us in the night watch will keep.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The East Gippsland Fires
In East Gippsland the fires are still going miles of woodland and farmland and bushland destroyed
The huge fire front it keeps on burning it's way through the brown Countryside,
Fires started by thunder and lightning and fires started by human kind
Amongst every rural community a firebug or two you will find
For many East Gippsland farmers a financial disaster by drought conditions already hit hard enough
The fires that have burnt to death many of their animals in their paddocks has made life for them far more tough,
The fire quenching rains are not coming the fires raging onwards and on
But the financial stress for them will continue and their heartbreak with the passing of the fires will not have gone
A tough time for farmers in general and they are facing a very tough year
But when fire rages in drought ravaged paddocks sad stories of heartbreak we do hear,
Many homes have been burned to ashes wildlife and domestic animals to the flames have been lost
Between drought and fire many rural communities left burdened with the huge financial cost
Left by the fire that burned it's way through their Country financial recovery for them may take years
And they will remember the bushfires that blackened the landscape with tears.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Angry Mountain
The heat smothered close, flames are bright
And vividness is exceptional and beyond belief;
The picture of fire is now preying on the thinkers
That thought out their messages of the volcanoes.
A volcano can not know why we lean and judge,
Or whether we engage in torture or not.
However much the mountain erupts with fury
The flames are absent after an age of ruin.
Fires abound in the skies around the geography
Of the mountain range, fires so high and vivid.
Let heat be the parapet of insolence, the mountain
Is an angry volcano so refusing us.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Firemen have the coolest toys ever!
quote by Adam Savage
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We don't take care of our teachers and our cops and our firemen. They should be at the top of our list.
quote by Brad Garrett
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Firemen can do almost everything. You already trust them in life-threatening situations; why not let them help you with your everyday problems, too?
quote by David Hunt
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Towers, a nine Eleven poem
In my minds geography
The towers still stand tall.
They rise up from their common grave
And overawe the shore
Above the clouds the diners feast
At windows on the World
as swarms of chefs and waiters
hang on their every word
In my mind's eye, no bells need toll
As mourners read a name.
No firemen in bunker gear
race up the stairs in vain.
With eyes wide closed
Deny, deny, the fast approaching planes
Deny the bodies in the street
Deny the dust and flames
But they are gone and you are gone
And never will I hear
Your soft and sexy gentle voice
Or hold your body near
Late at night near Trinity
among the weathered stones
Do I hear the weeping of lost souls
-Or is it just the wind 's low moan?
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Embers Still Glow
Some fires still burn
long after the flames have died;
their embers still glow
after the years have flown.
It only takes a spark
to ignite an old flame
from the vault of our memories
and make love bloom again.
12 July 2012
poem by David Harris
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He That Loves A Rosy Cheek
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires:
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.
But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires:
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
poem by Thomas Carew
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A Helpless Situation
there is a fire in your room
the stairs are burned and the windows
have fallen to the ground
you are alone and all the while
there is only one imagination you have
in your mind
all the firemen are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fires Of Eden
Its not over till its over
I heard someone say
Must be a whisper in the wind
cause youre too far away
But in my restless sleep
I could swear I saw you next to me
Saying oh, Im coming home
Youll never spend another night alone
Chorus:
Remember when love was innocent
There was never a better time
But you know those fires of eden
Still burn in this heart of mine
The mornings uncertain
Its a nervous day
And I look for a reason
Why I should feel this way
I hear a voice run before
Drifting through my open door
Saying its alright
Were going to light those flames tonight
Chorus
Remember when love was freedom
We knew we were two of a kind
But you know those fires of eden
Still burn in this heart of mine
And dont you wonder
How we drifted so far
When we belong to each other
Oh we were miles apart
And theres a place
That was meant for the two of us
And when you touch the embers
You feel my love
As strong as it ever was
Chorus
Remember when love was freedom
We knew we were two of a kind
But you know those fires of eden
Still burn in this heart of mine
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire
There are many things we call a fire.
The ones we light to keep us warm.
The fire that burns within our heart
whenever we fall in love.
There are the fires of passion
that ignite within our soul.
There fires can burn eternally
and we feel them everyday.
All the fires that burn around and within us,
burn throughout all the days of our lives.
12 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Fires of Love
The fires of love
can burn out so easily
if they are not tended that well.
They need nurturing and fed
to sustain the passion well.
The fires of love
will smoulder and die
if the coals are not stoked
every once in a while
to sustain passions glow.
The fires of love
are not only for the youth.
Even in age we mellow,
we must still let the embers know
the fire burns within the passions well.
(19 August 2011)
poem by David Harris
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In the context of September 11, there were so many that lost their lives that - how do you single out one person? There were so many acts of heroism that day from so many people, whether it be firemen and police officers in New York and our agents also.
quote by Robert Mueller
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My buddies wanted to be firemen, farmers or policemen, something like that. Not me, I just wanted to steal people's money!
quote by John Dillinger
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