Best Exiles Poems
To soothe the cornered inferno
Consuming a sanctuary abandoned
Spider's silk like snow kissed ground
Walls caressed by a nurturing moss,
A mausoleum of birth
The detached ruins we carry
A firefighter's hose spouts curses
To cauterize a ghastly flame
The fire fights itself separately
So the lever pullers on the dispatch
Call into the ears of a healer
To douse themselves in gasoline
There is no pain, for in
Recognition there is warmth
The exiles of the charred asylum
Need something true to human heart
An acknowledgment of all their parts
Categories:
exiles, change, education, introspection, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Come on, Exiles
To a banquet in Nigeria.
Hear now, the voice of jamboree
You deaf,
Perhaps, the blind can see the assorted service,
Look here! Men do not sleep at night,
Who dares to sleep and give up his dreams?
The youths;
Toil all day, but
Reap sorrows and heartbreak.
Upon the riches of this clime,
Men dies paupers.
Look what goes on over here,
This is a casket of shame,
Disgruntled soul
Being buried in debt.
How do we pay off our fathers’ debt?
Our inheritance of distress,
Our fate is bleak.
Of all these wealth and abundance;
I have five fingers on my right, and
Five on my left,
My foot is not flat,
I can trek to Lagos for Babu.
I will keep walking
Till I reach my stretch, and
Give up my shame.
Categories:
exiles, africa, anxiety, emotions, pain,
Form:
Free verse
Your eyes say there's a room for everyone
I lost my way, welcome me to your shore
Light up your torch, I'm avoiding the sun
Of fear as I sailed across with my oar.
Are there words unsaid in your silenced lips
The waves churn, the winds gather the voices
Behind those walls e'en thus of rolling ships
And thunderclaps above frightened faces.
Is there a loving embrace known to me
Is there a warm home beyond tall, old pines;
Roots of battles as old as history
Here, is my ambrosial desire that chimes.
I'd sing the songs of heroes rejoicing
Man; so shall the seabird's breadth of wanting.
© 2019 Maricris Cabrera
Categories:
exiles, immigration, independence day, july,
Form:
Sonnet
This is what the God of Israel, the Lord Almgihty declares
Unto all of you who have been carried away in to exile...
In the land of your captivity until the day i reconcile
You to your Motherland and answer everyone of your prayers,
Build yourselves houses and dwell in them as you settle down;
Plant gardens and eat the fruit they produce in the country and town
Marry and may your wives be fruitful vines by the sides of your houses,
Bearing sons and daughters like olive branches around each table
That you may increase and not decrease and that they may be able
To have children.. Find sons wives- give daughters to husbands for spouses
Also, for the city where you are held captive and for the sake of your posterity
Pray to the Lord for it; seek and pursue its peace and prosperity
Because if it prospers so will you; in its peace thereof shall be yours the same.
However, do not let false prophets and diviners among you beguile you
Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have whereby they defile you
Yes, this is what the God of Israel, the Lord Almighty does proclaim,
They are prophesying lies to you in my Name but I have not sent them.
For I know the plans I have for you, thoughts toward you my royal diadem
Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, thoughts to give you an expected end
A hope and future, you will call on me and come to me and pray
And I will listen to you; you will seek me and find me on the day
You seek me with all your heart; I will be found by you and extend
My hand to turn away your captivity. I will come and fulfill my promise of grace
And gather you from all the nations bringing you back to the place
After seventy years are accomplished in the land where you are banished;
I will break yokes and tear off bonds; I am with you and you will be saved.
You will have rest and security and no longer by foreigners will you be enslaved,
But I will restore you to health and your wounds will be vanished.
I will also restore your fortunes and your numbers I will multiply;
Your community will be established and your children will be as in the days of old.
I will punish your oppressors and discipline you with the justice foretold;
So you will be my people, I your God and you will understand it better by and by
Categories:
exiles, devotion, faith, inspirational, life,
Form:
Epic
You fixed Mongolian stew
on a two ring Russian-made burner.
We understood
that we’d not be drinking salted milk tea
in Ulan Bator anytime soon.
Nevertheless,
we bought Kazakh embroidery
laid on goatskins, treated the room
as if it were a symbol laden yurt.
Your body was my perfect fit,
a silken deel of sensuality,
which we both knew
was the national costume
of the desolate and lost.
Categories:
exiles, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
Football crazy Exiles u13s 2024/25 season
They're football crazy,
they're football mad,
Ipswich Exiles U13s,
the best they’ve ever had.
With speed and grit,
determination true,
Strength in all areas,
they play to rule.
Our top goal scorer,
a year younger but bold,
His talent and drive,
a sight to behold.
Week in,
week out,
whatever the score,
These lads bring pride,
always wanting more.
On the pitch they shine,
a united band,
Making parents,
fans,
and coaches the proudest in the land.
Win, lose or draw,
their spirit's a flame,
Ipswich Exiles U13s,
forever in the game.
Categories:
exiles, childhood, class, confidence, encouraging,
Form:
Rhyme
Potent grief exists in the paternoster
recited by exiles each break of dawn —
and they never cease to mourn with drums.
Exiles are men
with two lives,
and they often fast,
preferring to sip gently the treacly sap
dripping from the eyes of fortitude.
Riding the thin line
of the horizon,
they seek truths underneath
receding rims of the atmosphere —
the truths
of a desolated homeland
atrophied by distance.
They do not pray
only to return home,
but to meet their mothers’ funerals —
Mothers harassed to death
by ruthless authorities
whose diaries speak of languor.
How do pirates with their eye patches
count the stars,
and how do feathers of thinning clouds
react to the invasion of rioting storms?
Exiles are native drummers
gone for a festivity yonder.
Like the dead, they live in the
hearts of those who truly love them.
Categories:
exiles, political,
Form:
Free verse
Potent grief exists in the paternoster
recited by exiles each break of dawn —
and they never cease to mourn with drums.
Exiles are men
with two lives,
and they often fast,
preferring to sip gently the treacly sap
dripping from the eyes of fortitude.
Riding the thin line
of the horizon,
they seek truths underneath
receding rims of the atmosphere —
the truths
of a desolated homeland
atrophied by distance.
They do not pray
only to return home,
but to meet their mothers’ funerals —
Mothers harassed to death
by ruthless authorities
whose diaries speak of languor.
How do pirates with their eye patches
count the stars,
and how do feathers of thinning clouds
react to the invasion of rioting storms?
Exiles are native drummers
gone for a festivity yonder.
Like the dead, they live in the
hearts of those who truly love them.
Categories:
exiles, political,
Form:
Free verse