Best Emigrating Poems
I left Ireland in the 80's with my husband and two babies for Holland. In 2003, we
returned so that our children could have an Irish University education. Dublin was
buzzing with life at the time, it was very expensive but we were home. Now in 2011,
my daughter is emigrating, back down the old ancestral path, she is going to Madrid
to teach English there. Our country has collapsed so badly, there is no employment
here so we are exporting our young, educated children by the day. A sad day for me
as my daughter leaves tomorrow. I wrote her this poem.
To Sarah
On the wave of emigration
I want you to know
That I see you, a fellow female
An equal on every level
Not just my daughter
My little pink princess
I see you as a woman
A power within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn
Go to your new life
A teacher in Madrid
Be free and fearless
Spread your wings and fly
Take the opportunities
Shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
You can use them now.
Your analytic mind
Will help you make good decision
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating heart
Will gift you new friendships
Maybe even a new love
All in good time
You will never be alone
Because you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With this new tide
Your feet firmly planted
Will always serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs of Libra
Always true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.
We live in a new age today
This global world is small
As we email and skype
Fly back and forth to visit
We will continue to love
As mother and daughter
Our journeys through life
Shared
Forever together
My love
I will hold you safe
In my heart.
Categories:
emigrating, adventure, caregiving, devotion, education,
Form:
Free verse
In the multitude of counsellors there is life,
Running away implies stabbing yourself with your knife.
I’m inside a cyclone, you think I should run?
You even went on to tag my stagnancy as dumbness,
I’m not a fool you know. Positioned myself in its centre
For I know that in the eye of a cyclone there’s calmness.
You feel I’m off-guard when I actually feel like I’m in a venter.
My birth canal is in the vertical, where I’m not impaired of my view
I fix mine eyes to the heavens where I know there’s my breakthrough.
In the midst of drunkards there’s sure a fog of immature diction.
Engaging means emigrating from the principle of lingual timing.
Words are powerful entities, they can unveil people’s identities.
When your mind is pixilated, the words you speak can intoxicate
Your persistent entity, your individuality. Even if it may be a while
There’s just some hostility about it and what if it compiles
In the long run, leaving your choice of words forever numb?
In a bad company is a formed aura of non-believe,
There’s a rapid leakage of faith with slim chance of retrieve.
The Bible is on point, “bad company corrupts good character”
It is said that character is the you that exists
When all are gone and you have only you in your midst.
Now think, external injections are depriving your character cells nutrients.
The torture is aimed at you, once activated there is severe suffering.
But, you'll have to bear the yoke alone when your God's desired character
Starts to haunt you!
There's fullness of joy in the presence of the Lord
And for those who really seek it, life is never really odd.
Categories:
emigrating, character, faith, wisdom,
Form:
Lyric
A surreal vision
dreamlike and bizarre.
I felt as if I were in the throes
of a turbulent blazing blizzard,
a throbbing pulsating migraine
almost static in fermentation.
It gnawed intensively at my innards,
atrocious labor pains.
She put a small wet warm towel
Right on my forehead.
Then relief.
A calming of the spirit,
ethereal, soft, relaxing.
A vision of vastness
dotted by languid lakes,
rippling rivulets,
autumn-colored trees,
eternal waterfalls,
and myriads of emigrating geese.
I slept, feeling you besides me,
warm, homely, and satisfying.
Precisely why I loved you.
22 April 2021
Placed 1
Writing Prompt - Ache - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
emigrating, love, pain,
Form:
Free verse
Ruth,a lovely lady of Moab,
Nearly always picked up the tab;
Gav her mother-in-law a helping hand,
Emigrating back to her distant homeland;
Naomi quickly returned the compliment,
Matchmaking bing her special bent;
The romance of Boaz and Ruth,
Crossing wealth & caste,showed such love can last;
As grandson Jesse put forth his root,
From which sprang forth the eternal Truth.
Categories:
emigrating, history, love,
Form:
Epic
Yuval Noah Harari
suggests that Nationalism's
Big Three Nemeses are fear of
nuclear holocaust,
degenerative climate trends,
and Business As Usual disruptions
of eco-politically salvific technology.
When I first read this list
of his global Three,
the one that stood out
at least for me,
to potentially
break through our tendency
to see through lenses
nationalistically
is Earth's great climate pathology.
Still,
all three are LeftBrain dominant,
StraightWhiteMale privileged,
Patriarchal-Capitalist nationalistic systems
of scientific reductive-rooted secularism
and defensive
extractive-infested
militarism.
Aside from a home habitat
in WholeEarth Crisis,
extinguishing all hope
of future peace health
is our cooperative multicultural wealth
regeneration,
our ability to distinguish
which of these three
is most transparently
exploitive and disempowering
our SunShine EcoSystem,
To dialogically determine
which is most polyculturally vulnerable
to inflaming
already repressive Patriarchal/Capitalism,
Which is most unenlightened
and monotheistically RightWing
StraightWhiteMale
LeftBrain dominant
May also be the unholy Fascist fascinated
demonizing ecowomanist healthy choice
and Earth as sacred Goddess
panentheistically denying,
Holy Nature/Spirit indigenous defying,
climatically degenerative Nationalism, yes,
but also, more fundamentally dualistic,
AnthroSupremacism
over ecofeminist healthy wealth
of fertile sacred Earth
Where monoculturing climate "change"
may become most easily defined
by Yanged out RightWing predation
fueled by a competitive economy
of hierarchical
from-above produced
and massively media marketed scarcity,
rather than from-within
ecological healthy robust wealth integrity.
Then again,
I could also see win/win opportunity
for health as wealthy polycultural activity
in co-immigrating away from global fear
of nuclear nationalistic hostility
Emigrating toward global polypathic thrival
post-secularizing revival
of sacredly uniting cooperativity
principles of Eartherapeutic Energy
as healthy integral international democracy,
NonViolent Communication fueled
by
and for
and with Whole
Holistic
Holy EarthTribal
win/win systemic
authentic
intricate
exquisite sacred global integrity.
Categories:
emigrating, caregiving, earth, health, peace,
Form:
Political Verse
Emma was my granny, German born gal,
from Alsace-Lorraine, her will was homespun.
Her mom had six young children to corral -
emigrating in eighteen eighty-one.
Enduring the trip 'cross the waves alone
Pop had come early to find them a place.
With folks like hers, Emma kept up the pace -
hard-working, trust-worthy, independent.
Dark-haired beauty with a smile on her face,
my Emma could handle any event.
Categories:
emigrating, grandmother,
Form:
Dizain
Living in a jobless country, thousands emigrating every month,
Long gone are the times of the Celtic tiger and the Irish punt.
The economy has collapsed into a heap on the floor,
A depressing recession is hard to ignore.
Politicians are greedy and getting more desperate,
Now this country is turning into a cesspit.
Honestly dishonesty is at an all-time high,
Profiteering politicians telling lie after lie.
They expect us to believe them, but it’s clearly all lies,
It’s so obvious you can see it without opening your eyes.
Rent and homelessness increasing, too expensive to be leasing,
Health and education decreasing while politicians keep fleecing.
And that phony Simon Coveney is nothing but a clown,
Do you really think he cares about the people in your town?
Democracies don’t become corrupt overnight, this takes time,
Slowly but surely it starts to decline.
Categories:
emigrating, anger, ireland, political, trust,
Form:
Rhyme
You are old I am young
You have love I have none.
"Look. Look at those flocks of birds emigrating south!
They’re escaping with regular wing beats, crying farewell."
Tomorrow would be a good day to die
Today a good tomorrow
Dying must be strange, nonsense life is strange
We wait for nothing yet nothing will come
I never hoped you would accept an invitation to my farewell party
We wait for nothing yet nothing will come
Yes, like Fassbinder
Yes, like Veronica Voss
I owe my soul to the company store
Finishing Line Press. Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com
Categories:
emigrating, art, death, nostalgia, passion,
Form:
Ode
Nancy,
Dementia rocks n drags ya down,
"what am i doing in this bloody town,
who is this tart, with a shielas frown,
says she loves me, looks fly blown,
couldn't be the gal I own,
i'm emigrating now-sers" :(
Don Johnson
Constance La France ` A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name A Short Poem, Please
~For old Joe the guy that used to know me, in the nursing home~
Categories:
emigrating, adventure,
Form:
Rhyme
Ruth,a lovely lady of Moab,
Nearly always picked up the tab;
Gav her mother-in-law a helping hand,
Emigrating back to her distant homeland;
Naomi quickly returned the compliment,
Matchmaking bing her special bent;
The romance of Boaz and Ruth,
Crossing wealth & caste,showed such love can last;
As grandson Jesse put forth his root,
From which sprang forth the eternal Truth.
Categories:
emigrating, faith, people, Grandson,
Form:
Epic
What are your most winterish
critical trauma events
in these most recent
three millennia?
Why
just my traumas?
Why not their corresponsive
therapies
for restoring EarthJustice?
Please go on
and on
questioning my questions
seemingly without end,
like an arctic wind-blown
starless night
in eternally restless January.
As you say,
and, but for this grand analogy,
you would pay dearly
for your unsprung youth,
Back in pre-colonial daze
of sacred tribal glad,
mostly naked clad
reunions
Fall harvests produced fertile gratitude,
more of a positive
win/win attitude.
In those last warm and golden times
of nature nighttime naivete
some Governor,
a Wise Elder, perhaps
No matter how Patriarchal,
would deep dream
to set defenses against
each sacred Other
Yet pantheistically inclusive Mother Earth
could not feel ripe
or right, apart
Summer fullness
and winter dormant absence
fail to positively correlate
Earth's spirited spring minds
and physical womb-falling bodies
with metaphysical,
sacred bipartisan,
deeply thoughtful
yet hibernating
frustrated feelings
failing to confluently
and competently understand
Communicating
and excommunicating
across seasons
and present seas
of sacred vulnerable immigration
integration
creolization,
followed by thoughtfully transparent
slow-grown emigrant sacred status
rooted in wisdom
and freedom to grow copassions,
not mere freedom from
some other kindless
kingdom
Immigrating/Emigrating EarthTribes
exhaling summer's sway
away
migrating winter's WombDream play
back in to sacred circling
and recycling stay.
Thanks for that,
Aunt Eartha.
Sounds like less of a summery answer
and more of a deep wintering question.
Yes, my dear,
and what does winter taste
and look
and feel like?
Restoring Earth's
not-quite-so-everlasting
seemingly endless
cold white privilege,
Thawing into
more spring/fall balance,
green/blue global
hibernating
matriarchal,
yet apparently dormant,
sacred honed ecologists.
Sorry, Aunt Eartha,
drifting off,
wandering in winter wonder
EcoTherapy, once around again,
regenerating global
GoldenPlaying Peace
Within this silent wintered star's
bright prolific night.
Categories:
emigrating, dream, earth, integrity, nature,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
It is so sad that many a young ones has to go
Reminding us so much of our ancient pasts
Emigrating to build a better future themselves
Leaving behind those whom they love for now
Accepting they don't know how the future fare
Never a day goes without them in our thought
Days are hard without them being near to us
Categories:
emigrating, family, future,
Form:
Acrostic
On Emigrating To Iceland After Iraq
Consider first the Alabama heat.
Consider next the toad
still as a turd on this rural bridge
rupture slung across a stream
where offal floats,
where clumps are belching.
Note the toad, the reeks
that genie up beside it.
Then remember Iceland
and the freshets of its Spring.
Iceland had no toads,
no reeks to genie up beside them.
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
emigrating, war
Form:
Free verse
Mine Impossible Self Educating Mission...
Finds muss elf facing Lenovo
(external Macbook
Pro screen) whoosh'n
with all manner
of thoughts cascading,
flowing and swoosh'n
thru ma mind like
yoyo wing thoughts,
whether right now
aboot me late Russian
maternal grandfather,
who made a
lasting imp Prussian
though whose departure
more'n deuce
score years ago,
nonetheless left
many a question
on me boyhood
memory, no matter
he predominantly talked
Yiddish with smidgen
of English peppering conversation
with scant sprinkling of
Anglo Saxon known to him
despite crossing ocean
as a scrappy young lad,
(and hightailing to America
as a possible stowaway)
for some notion
never told, hence I prevaricate
whipping oop tall tales
courtesy magic potion
of spellbinding words,
not the least bit concerned
freely falsifying any quotation,
cuz no paper trail
extant for citation,
nor other medium survived
attesting to birth family
of said relation
Morris (Moishe) Kuritsky,
his near half century ago
passing into oblivion,
sans after major life mission
emigrating to Ellis Island
bing faux scion of
attending sewing spool
as self taught
harried styled swift tailor
finding goo goo
doll young bride
(eighteen Earth orbitz
round the sun his junior),
she died during her late 50's
(during early nineteen sixties)
attributed to poor nutrition,
which definitely aggravated
by poor dentition
tooth fully, not
fondly remembered for
doting o'er my mama
(the last born)
as favored offspring
at psychological expense
for beastly crush'n
life source of two eldest daughters.
Categories:
emigrating, 12th grade, class, crush,
Form:
Free verse
The Election result is a kill-joy
And has a man made a boy:
A result so blunt I’m trying ketamine;
That should my recovery determine
My BP should’ve been key issue
And its treatment a Toilet Tissue …
A woman has captured my capital
And what’s next if not Hospital?
The whole stuff taken to any doorstep
And claiming to have watched my every step …
My eyes have been fed humbling scores,
Another shutting of my political doors
An angering spread sheet on my lap
Underscoring my defeat by a gap.
And I swear animals what these portend,
Birds to laugh if I do them contend …
Right now A chairwoman Elect!
And they wouldn’t me select.
Already, I can see her sky-scraping head gear
And celebratory fanfare in high gear
Artificial eye-lashes one can glimpse from hundred meters
And music-powering generator with hundred litres …
And guess I’m emigrating to Dakar
Or to far-off fourth Africa
Or perhaps nearer Niamey …
No eye-lashes wearer will chair me.
Categories:
emigrating, community, cry, political, woman,
Form:
Rhyme