Best Deported Poems
Overweight Terrier:
Porky
Yorkie
Un-cool Terrier:
Dorky
Yorkie
Spaniel dog breeder:
Cocker
Stocker
Parrot who mimics a Spaniel's bark:
Cocker
Mocker
Book on how to care for Cockers:
Spaniel
Manuel
Originally from England, a well-rounded Spaniel stays in shape by playing:
Cocker
Soccer
Then showers and dresses by its:
Cocker
Locker
Dachshund headgear:
Weenie
Beenie
Grouchy Dachshund:
Meany
Weenie
Proportionally, male Dachshunds have:
Teenie
Weenies
(But size isn't everything)
Dachshund making critcal life choices:
Eenie
Weenie...
Lassie was a level-headed dog and never engaged in:
Collie
Folly
Reared in a loving environnment, she was a rather:
Jolly
Collie
Bred in the capitol city of NC, making her a:
Raleigh
Collie
To commemorate her frequent (and often rowdy) visits to N.O. a streetcar was renamed the:
Collie
Trolley
Snoopy immigrated to the States but alas, was found not to be a:
Legal
Beagle
Thus he was deported back to England but was promptly knighted by the Queen becoming a:
Regal
Beagle
Now a celebrity, he even had an entourage of nubile young female beagles named:
Snoopy's
Groupies
Eventually, he met his soul mate, married her in Westminster Abbey and it is rumored that they engaged in numerous and somewhat kinky sessions of:
Snoopy
Whoopie
We loved the land
We tilled the earth, under sun we toiled
We pledged our souls, to nature’s whim
The King of France none to pleased
We took the sacraments
We held our faith, mournful to fates embrace
The British demanded a new oath we take
And scalped we were, both sides did partake
Our villages burned, our fields afire
Our woman and children, in hunger perished
We feared Monckton, a hunter of death
And from him, to ships hold, deported at best
We preyed to Canada, to lend us a hand
Evangeline an angel of our land
The darkened forests, to where we fled
Became bloody in battles, and turned to red
For Redcoats wandered in search of scalps
As Father Le Loutre preached unheavenly deeds
He was bloodthirsty and in skirmishes his evil flourished
His Mikmaq warriors helped rivers flow to blood
We lived along the rivers edge
We fought them all, to no one did we pledge
As serfs we served, to whom did rule
In the end, the forest sang our quiet eulogy
The vessels sailed from Halifax
With their human cargo of Partisans
Off to the West Indies, and a new land
Disease triumphed where Lord Laurence failed
And so the voyage, onward went
The traditions of Grand Pre, to Louisiana was lent
And there they settled, peace at last
As angels of their battles, in sacrifice did rest
Helga Deen (1925-1943) (Sentanka)
Mit achtzehn ermordet
Helga Deen im KZ Sobibór
Nur Tagebuch und Briefe
War alles was von ihr blieb
Ihr Andenken aber bleibt
Murdered at eighteen
Helga Deen at Sobibór
Only letters and diary
Was all that remained of her
But her memory remains
Helga Deen en Sobibor
Asesinado a dieciocho años
Sólo cartas y un diario
Fue todo lo que quedaba
Pero su memoria sigue siendo
Note: Helga Deen, born in 1925 in Stettin moved with her parents in 1933 to Tilburg in the
Netherlands. She was a talented young woman not only in writing but also in drawing. Her
mother was a German Jewish doctor and her father-Willy Deen- a Dutch chemist. Helga Denn
had a brother -Klaus- and both visited school in Tilburg. The family had to move from
their house and Helga an her brother had to leave school together with other ten Jewish
pupils. In July 1943 all were deported to the Vugh concentration camp. From there they
were transpoted to Westerbork concentration camp and from there on July 13th to Sobibór
(Poland) concentration camp. She died from gas there on July 16th 1943.
We of the Convict strain
A hundred and twenty years ago
Australia had it's several classes
There were we of the convict strain
Mates would stick, just like molasses
The Deported Irish and us Con's
We sort of fit together
We kept our mouths shut
When Traps came about
We knew which nest to feather
Pommy overlords made a quid
And kept us second class
All the Master ever did
Poor worker he'd harass
So stand up give back some sass!
Of course you can crawl to the master
Yes he loves it, yes that's right
He's only there till a dollar begot
From the sweat of your brows, delight
Don Johnson 4-may-11
Off the stuccoed walls, the shells peel
The wounded babes bleed
There is a story of harrowing kind
To every war
This one is no different to others
The babes die in Aleppo
The world maintain the stony silence
Mothers' hearts shattered to pieces
Meanwhile
by both the forces of Assad and Isis.
The lucky few hit the jungle
In Calais
braving the oceans
And the deadly shells
Seeking shelter from us.
Yet a hysteria breaks
In heartless media
Demanding the samples of DNAs
They are not one of us
We must kick them back to the jungle
And have them deported to their lands
Bombed.
We won't offer no succor
Let them be tortured
Let their bones get fractured
Let their mothers’ hearts shattered
They are not one of us.
These kids need a right old kicking
The heartless whores of tabloid shout.
We listen
And hold our heads in shame
Powerless:
On the face of demonization of the victims
Of the war
Where is our tolerance?
Where is our compassion gone?
Me name is Daniel Morgan
There’s a thousand pounds on me head
Just me and me native lad
We upset the Traps,
the silly chaps,
Gawd strike me dead.
The Traps were camping ,
on the green old lagoon.
Me n Billy shot a few
Had em squealing like a loon,
In New South Wales,
after noon.
Mad Dog Morgan is me name,
Bushranging is me plurry game,
With my pistol you will bail up,
Some say I’m really quite insane,
Some wont give me up,
either?
So they shot me in the throat,
An here I lie a dying,
Cut off me bloody head ,
Gawd strike me dead,
Police desk, me skull, a lying.
Scrotum for tobacco pouch.
For Victoria’s top Policeman,
Pretty prize,
yes dead or alive,
Don’t be sad n blue, a grieving {about 1865)
Don Johnson
This Irish guy had lots of support,
From the ex convict’s n Aussie sports ,
Deported Irish of all sorts
Not really, not surprising!
America is everyone,
There are people who believe otherwise
But America is not
Just some middle class white man,
Living a suburban life,
Drinking coffee every morning,
Eating breakfast with his beautiful wife and children.
The American dream right.
But America is more than that
America is a Cuban boy
Being as loud as he wants,
Then blaming it on being Cuban,
Taking coffee shots to wake up,
Trying to learn a language separate from his native tongue,
Getting frustrated in class because he feels stupid,
While his mother and father work overtime to help feed him and his siblings.
America is a black woman
She wears her curls with pride,
Her voice is strong,
Her independence is stronger,
She takes nothing from no one,
And has the will power to work long days and nights
To make sure her kids get to live a good life
Because she’s done the research
And it says that black kids are more likely to drop out of school than white kids.
She doesn’t want them to struggle like her
She wants them to be happy
To prove that a kid from the south side can become a doctor, a lawyer, president, anything.
America is a Muslim girl
She fears going to school every day,
But she trusts her faith and with struggle
Puts on her hijab
Presto, now she has target on her back
Students make racist jokes
But no offense right
And lord forbid that the topic of Isis pop up in history
Because then the wondering of eyes will all point at her
And they will question her about terrorism
As if she knows all the answers.
People want her deported
But she just wants to have a full day without any remarks about her religion
She wants to be normal.
we may have the blues
should stop then we will amuse
choose the proper shoes
read news page by page
when my bright mind may engage
could see cat in cage
constant covenant
good looks appeared prevalent
where ever she went
there had been much trash
we could see in Calabash
things may cost much and cash
saw pretty Persian
scattered in a dispersion
while on an excursion
had been escorted
became badly distorted
will be deported
Off the stuccoed walls, the shells peel
The wounded babes bleed
There is a story of harrowing kind
To every war
This one is no different to others
The babes die in Syria
The world maintain the stony silence
Mothers' hearts shattered to pieces
Meanwhile
by both the forces of Assad and Isis.
The lucky few hit the countries of peace
braving the oceans
And the deadly shells
Seeking shelter from us.
Yet a hysteria breaks
In heartless media
Demanding the samples of DNAs
They are not one of us
We must kick them back to the jungle
And have them deported to their lands
Bombed.
We won't offer no succor
Let them be tortured
Let their bones get fractured
Let their mothers’ hearts shattered
They are not one of us.
These kids need a right old kicking
The heartless Trump shouts
We listen
And hold our heads in shame
Powerless:
On the face of demonization of the victims
Of the war
Where is our tolerance?
Where is our compassion gone?
CAR COURT
Enter, the older heavyweight steel giant,
The bailiff, a 1954 Hudson, reads unhesitant :
On the docket for this morning : guilty by implication - a Trabant,
In close custody with a Cutlass Supreme for supervision.
Next on the docket: a Pinto for likely gas-tank explosion.
Third on the docket: an English-made car (any marque) - body corrosion.
Lawyer for the prosecution, a pretentious character, a gas guzzler SUV
4x4 off-road with winch - for Saturday use on driveway only -
Hangs out with Vettes; and uses NO2 in fuel. Who?Drugs? Not me!
Downbeat guy as the defence counsel , a solid no nonsense Hummer,
A real enviro-bummer,
Klutzy ugly and personality like a mack truck in summer.
Trabant coughed its way to the stand.
Clerk of court Volkswagen, order in hand,
Read the indictment quietly, efficiently, bland.
Prosecution began with noisy opening musical-horn tunelets
The jury, all serious-minded stolid Volvos and Toyota Starlets
Were not impressed. Hummer clumsily interrupted with an objection, “Let’s
Stop, on the grounds of precedent,” but at this point Pinto reversed,
Crushed its trunk and its gas-tank exploded, and worst ,
Hit the the English car : and into flames they both burst.
Cutlass argued with the SUV, which was winched away pending sentence.
Case against the English car dismissed from lack of evidence.
Trabant was deported back to Germany: no import licence
Overseeing all these proceedings : the ever-reliable, I-won’t-budge,
The I-have-a-spotless-reputation, I-hold-no-grudge,
The mechanical virgin, the silent Rolls Royce as judge.
...........................................................................................................
it was a dark november day
the clouds hanging ominous
time seeming to stand still
the sun long gone astray
in a dark most somber mood
we headed toward memorial hill
feeling quiet lost in deep in thought
facing our mortality each in solitude
one of so many funeral processions
more than we could have forgot
deported somehow somewhere away
friends and families unanswered questions
a grey hush falling over us
as we prefer not to make a fuss
politely refusing to discuss
that we all have a ticket on that bus
”We slowly drove he knew no haste” - Emily Dickinson
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 15, 2020 for contest LINES TO AWAKEN YOUR MUSE sponsored by JOSEPH MAY - RANKED 3RD
BELIZEAN BLEND
In the beginning it was the Yucatec, the Mopan and Kekchi as well
Who came from the steppes of Asia where nomads dwell
They fished and farmed milpas, in paradise; away from hell
Some building great civilizations that, for many reasons, eventually fell
Then came the Spaniards whose ambivalence; mixed feelings
Caused them to waver in subsequent dealings
Killed some natives, driven off by others
In the end did not settle; wasn’t worth the bother
Displaced by the British, rowdy pirates turn woodcutters
Who made laws and build infrastructure down to the gutters
Cut logwood, then mahogany for powerful and wealthy folks
Then, to satisfy greed, sought others to enslave in yokes
Africans from Jamaica and Bermuda transshipped
Then as chattel they were frequently whipped
Stolen from Africa, becoming the major labor force
Dehumanized and tortured for centuries without remorse
Mestizos fleeing oppressors in the Yucatan
The War of Castes brought them from beyond
Working as chicleros and cane cutters
As a way of providing ‘ bread and butter’
Garinagu deported from St. Vincent as a form of punishment
Many dying in their odyssey , their massive predicament
Survive , resiliently, on the rebound
A proud people, with culture and learning very sound
Mennonites coming to enjoy religious freedom and peace
Avoiding persecution for a life of ease
Providing furniture, low cost poultry and eggs
Reducing the cadre of many that beg
From India and China they were duped and brought
As indentured servants who were hastily sought
Later as merchants and shopkeepers they came
Voluntarily this time, which is not nearly the same
Backpackers and excursionists everywhere
In a world where they’re free to choose elsewhere
Not part of the earlier diaspora
But manifestations of a new plethora
The immigration is coming for me
I live in a two bedroom house with eight other families
We will be deported, this process includes a meal, so our stomachs will be full
I dream at night for beans, rice and burritos
I cook my burritos in fat, heavy lard
I check my pockets, now I'm worried, I think I lost my green card
I have gas and burps because of the food
I want to make bambinos, but the senora is not in the mood
She's not ready, she says I'm pushing too hard
Now she's mad, flushes my wallet down the toilet, there goes my green card
Now rice and beans will be my meals three times a day
The immigration is the predator and I'm the prey
I sneak through a hole in the fence
This shows the border patrol is incompetent
I am again caught and sent back across the border
I will miss the reruns of Law and Order
Sam Waterson can't win a case, what a retard
This all goes back to when I lost my green card
Holocaust Memorial Day, Jan. 27 (Sentanka)
Let us remember
Murder of the innocents
Terror and hate
Jerusalem's Yad Vashem
Sacred place for the victims
Lasst uns erinnern
Mord an den Unschuldigen
Terror und Hass
Jerusalems Yad Vashem
Heiliger Platz für die Opfer
Déjenos recordar
Asesinato de innocentes
Terror y odio
Yad Vashem en Jerusalén
Sagrado lugar de víctimas
Note: The International Holocaust Memorial Day on January 27 marks the anniversary of the
liberation of the concentration camp of Auschwitz-Birkenau, the largest Nazi death camp on
January 27, 1945. The camp was liberated by Soviet troops and over 7,000 remaining
prisoners, mainly ill or near to death, were freed. It is estimated that at least 1.3
million people were deported to Auschwitz between 1940 and 1945. About 1.1 million were
murdered. Auschwitz-Birkenau is situated in Poland and was inscribed on the World Heritage
List in 1979.
One light, I was out panting the clown red when I met a Sadie from Francis who I found to be quiet subtractive. It was apparel she thought I was distracted two because she ted, “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” To witch I supplied "You can let your coucher I due.”
Sew, we dove to a rotel and wented a womb and that’s where it all rent wong. I dimply could NOT maintain my direction! I even deported to taking two extra-length Niagras butt no lice! My ergo was scattered to say the piece, although she was quiet patent with me at second, basking, “Comment allez-vous, mon ami?” I dancered, "Not very bien, mon cherry, déjà vu?"
Swell cokes, let me sell ya, she was so beset and vivid it took a few momentums for her to apply. FINALITY she basked (In broken England) “Deja who? Who is Déjà and what the PLUCK has Vu got to do with the price of a flea on a panda in Angina?”
To take a short story long, she got it up, put her clothes back off and resorted, “Au revoir, tu salopard!”
"Salopardon madamit? Did you dust ball me a dastard?" She had the VERVE to say: ”If the necker shrinks, then bare it, and your pepper sure did slink and you better relieve THAT, you old pool!”
Whelp, I won’t go into any moor of the sorted retails here. Needles to hay, I will sever foreskin that incidental and will always dismember that humilitating tight
I depose one gives and sperms…
Translations:
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? – Do you want to sleep with me tonight?
Comment allez-vous, mon ami? – How are you doing my friend?
Tres bein, et vous? - Very good, and you?
Mon cher - My dear
Au revior, tu salopard – Goodbye, you bastard