Home » Poems » Best » Foreigner

Best Foreigner Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Foreigner poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of foreigner poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Foreigner poems, articles about Foreigner poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Foreigner poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

New Foreigner Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Foreigner poems are below this new poems list.

Seafaring Foreigner by Bonanni, John
O foreigner by Andalib, Asif
The Foreigner by nandy, rinki
With all the Homesickness of the Foreigner by Pangelov, Bozhidar
The Cutter, the Foreigner and the Beach by Fraser, James
Foreigner by Bien, Jo
A Stranger and Foreigner by Bertrand, Peggy
The Cold War: Foreigner Policy by Ayadi, Atef

View all new Foreigner Poems

The Best Foreigner Poems

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Your Love So Sweet

Your Love So Sweet

You and I like stars we beam,
we’re Earth and Moon entwined forever.
You’re in every lucid dream,
igniting passion and desire.

I see rainbows all the time;
see them perched on tranquil blue skies.
Summer days wear sunny smiles,
and we’re like sweet grapes on a vine.

Chorus:
There were times when life brought me down,
I didn’t know if I could ever be found.
There you were… you breathed me back to life.
Now I’m a rose in paradise.

I’m gonna bloom with your heart beat…
beating in rhythm with mine.
I wanna sip on love so sweet;
you’re much sweeter than wine.

With our love we’re stars that shine,
for all eternity together.
Yes, I’m yours and you are mine,
we surrender only to each other.

Chorus:
There were times when life brought me down,
I didn’t know if I could ever be found.
But there you were… you breathed me back to life.
Now I’m a rose in paradise.

I’m gonna bloom with your heart beat…
beating in rhythm with mine.
I wanna sip on love so sweet;
you’re much sweeter than wine.

I’m gonna bloom with your heart beat…
beating in rhythm with mine.
I wanna sip on love so sweet;
you’re much sweeter than wine.


Written: 07-26-2017
Inspired by song: “I Want to Know What Love Is” by Foreigner
Contest: The Poet’s Ear
Sponsor: Greg Barden


 
I Want To Know What Love Is by Foreigner

I gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
I’d better read between the lines
In case I need it when I'm older

Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like a world upon my shoulders
all I through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder

In my life there's been heartache and pain 
I don't know if I can face it again 
Can't stop now, I've traveled so far
To change this lonely life

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

I'm gonna take a little time
A little time to look around me
I've got nowhere left to hide
It looks like love has finally found me

In my life there's been heartache and pain
I don't know if I can face it again 
I can't stop now, I've traveled so far
To change this lonely life

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
And I wanna feel 
I want to feel what love is

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Around the corner

Around the corner (20141010)

What’s around the corner?
What’s just beyond our view,
For the soldier and the foreigner,
What’s ahead for me and you?
Two terribly tired turtles
Which wearily weathered wars,
Survived cyclical separations, 
Regretfully raised rebellious rascals.
Seemingly securely safe-shelled,
Ironically intently imagining inside
Future failures, follies, fallouts
Won’t waste, wreck, wipe-out their world.
Keeping cool.  Keeping calm.  Keep continuing!
Blindly burroughing.  Blindly blustering, believing
Learning lingers, life lingers, love lingers.
For the soldier and the foreigner,
What’s ahead for me and you? 
What’s around the corner?
What’s just beyond our view?

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Just Around The Corner

Maybe the most deadly disease is just around our corner
Carried to our doorstep by an unsuspected foreigner
Ebola is lethal with a fatality rate that is extremely high
If infected you have a 70% probability that you will die
 
Incubation period can span from one to forty two days
If stricken, severe flu like symptoms will leave you in a daze
Most symptoms will appear 8 to 10 days after exposure
Bleeding from extremities will have you praying for closure

There is no cure, a strong immune system is your best defense
Why there is still air travel from Africa truly makes no sense
Predicted cases to be about 1.4 million by January next year
An epidemic like we never seen is upon us, that is very clear

If this dreadful virus makes it to your corner. beware!
If stricken with this affliction be diligent not to share
If this disease become airborne, many millions will succumb
Our world will be left in disarray and left feeling utterly numb


10/15/2014

*WHO changed the incubation period from 21 up to 42 days, be safe everyone.

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Chinese Scrolls

Listen to poem:

Poems from old and yellowed
Chinese scrolls make me sad,
make me sad: stored in shiny,
lacquered boxes of perfumed teak,
they crumble when unrolled.
And the hands that must have written
Chinese thoughts upon the rolls:
little, leathern, patient hands,
painting poems -- stroke and stroke
and careful, delicate stroke --
stopping, meanwhile, to twirl
a waxed mustache --
for someone else, a foreigner,
who cannot understand, to read,
mull over, and be sad.
And this when Chinese thoughts
are gone, and tiny, trembling
Chinese hands are dust.

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Noise

In Chibok,
An IED finds it way 
Into the mind of a savage sect
And made good use of the emptiness.

In helplessness,
Some school girls are bundled up
From their school compound; 
Taken for a noisy ride into Sambisa;
From where they will forget 
Their mothers’ voices.

On the tube,
There is a very loud lady 
Anathematising the “sharing” of blood 
In Borno.

When she is done,
The media is awash with the sound of
‘Na only you waka come?’ 

As if it is a joke 
To snatch young Nigerian girls 
From the four walls of their classroom
Into the coldness of the wilderness
To dwell amongst wild beasts.
To learn new lessons; 
Weird lessons.

In bed at night,
My wife talks of
Church bombings; 
Internally displaced persons; 
Slaughtering of citizens 
And the role of government in all of these 
And the security of our country 
And I pulled at the hairs 
From around her second mouth
To make her change the topic
And she falls for it and changes the topic.

The white bearded Mallam
On the rickety bus to Yola
Fixes his eyes on me 
Like some foreigner 
And I feel the fire 
All through the trip 
And I burn and burn and burn 
Like the victims of Nyanya motor park blast 
It feels good though to know 
What it takes to 
Be burned into countless degrees. 

But after three weeks 
I am back to normal again 
I can feel again 
My senses are back again 
Working optimally 
And I can hear again 
As the presidential pit-bull 
And the black parrot 
The one that used to be 
In the fourth estate of the realm 
Begin to met and dole out 
Slippery speeches, speeches you can’t hold 
That comes upon our ears 
To push out every substance 
From our heads 
Everything except this load of hopelessness 
This bitter bite in our mouth
This unwanted fetus
That no one would claim 

And then the hash tags;
The media craze; 
The count down 
The women in red 
And the men that joined 
The bring back our girls 
The Michelle Obama
The celebrities from across
The noise, the sweat, the blood 
The bloody thighs of those girls 
Their torn underwear 
Their wails, their sobs, their pains 
To say the least 
The echo, the deafening echo
And how we wave them all aside 
And look the other way. 
Like it did not happen at all 
Like it was just a movie 
Directed by a director 
That must be a sadist  
We sweep it under the carpet 
Like our other numerous
National issues

But I won’t write another story on betrayal 
I won’t write another poem 
On how a nation 
Could forsake her innocent children 
Instead I would write of a country 
Stealing, stealing, growing 
Growing resilient to emotion; 
Becoming many times dead
To any feeling 
Tearing its tissues to pieces 
And building new ones 
That will be senseless 
Lifeless 
Bloodless.

And the noise 
And the noise 
And the noise.

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Princess Diana

1981, the Royal Wedding
     Charles and Di, sweethearts of the world
     ‘Til the Queen of Hearts’ hopes unfurled

Pomp and circumstance
     Parade, white gown, bride so demure
     But her prince’s love did not endure

Camilla waited
     When Charles wished to meet his mistress
     He ignored his sad wife’s distress

Humiliation
     Di withstood her mate’s trespasses
     By reaching out to the masses

The “People’s Princess”
     Di was England’s warmest, kindest
     Perhaps, indeed, too good to last

Popularity
     Was hers, though it proved a burden
     Royal image tarnished, uncertain

Bluebloods had been stained
     By a charismatic flower
     Who cared naught for title, power

Strong undercurrents
     Prince of Betrayal, Queen of Rage
     Would pale beside Di on history’s page

Separation came
     Enough she’d had and made it clear
     No longer silent, shedding tears

Scandal in headlines
     Queen Mum and Charles were mortified
     When the public eye favored Di

Coincidental?
     The night a foreigner proposed
     Her life came to a tragic close

Was it media
     Who pursued Di to her demise
     Or was she hushed by royal lies

Weeping world
     Precious Princess Di
     Was far to young to die



*Entry for Chris Matt's Contest

Details | Foreigner Poem |

A being in the age of consumerism

I'm constantly searching for myself –
That part which is essential, inherent.
I sense its presence, it's somewhere within
The being which echoes with infrequent shouts
Of a neglected foreigner 
Who happens to live in my dwelling.
But it's a language I can't comprehend;
Only some fragments, and on rare occasions
When we're at peace, like adults
With altruistic motives.

I'm persistent in my search
So persistent that I tend to go outside
In hope of finding 
The object of my pursuit.
But I'm offered a wide selection of objects
Each resembling that which I desperately seek.
I consume, yet I'm the one who's consumed,
Drained slowly, gradually
Until the essence is left to evaporate
As if its only purpose is to be absorbed
Into bountiful void.

I stuff myself with pleasures
Until I dissolve in them,
Become the object of my desire.
Then the insight and rejection.
Continuation of the search
Of the lost one.

But it is different with you, my beloved.
You contain that spark
Which will revive me.
You can fill the gap,
Complete the circle.
Only a little more;
I know I will find it.
This is what I need,
Is it not?

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Late Night On Salisbury Ave.

The meadow's radiance gradually dimmed
and evening littered far and wide
it encouraged the unfamiliar 
and everything uncertain.

The night accelerated sounds of anticipation 
as a thousand strangers loomed
 
and I thought him to be a foreigner 
until he glanced twice 
as his smile slightly dropped
 astonishment plagued him

Insecurity encompassed me
as I turned away in doubt 
betrayed by the numinous... 
that often guides my thoughts

He left with lady and child, to merge 
With a thousand anticipating strangers 
 and the northern lights sheltered me
  the explosions across the sky 
gave satisfaction -to so much expectation 
that unexpectedly emerged 

Then the night was briefly soundless; 
the applause prolonged 
as were my duties...by my immersion
and within what felt like only seconds
he was passing, 

 through a thin pane of glass 
all I could yield was a smile, 

a smile to the incredulity within his eyes. 

Enclosed with the evening...was the meadow, 
and the difference was indistinguishable.

Details | Foreigner Poem |

THE NATURAL WAY

THE NATURAL WAY

The natural way
I’m speaking of nature’s way
That which has been known
That which is    at times    cruel
That which    gradually    is being lost

Is there an order?
Is there some marvelous plan?
In truth    I don’t know
I merely see    and    think
I think of natural things

Regeneration
Growing things    this very Earth!
Things being cut down
Perishings each day
Being replaced by dead things

Our great polar bears
Creatures losing habitat
All forms of our wilderness
Evolution has managed
These many millions of years

Then a foreigner
One who would call himself king
King over nature –
That he was provided for
Fed by nature meant nothing

In place of nature
This    king     built stone-cold castles
Flaunted his power
Enslaved those ones who opposed
It continues to this day

Man    death to nature
Slowly enslaving himself
Till he stands alone
All nature dead at his feet
Desperate to reach a star

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Waiting for a girl like you

Though oceans and miles
Are between you and me
Until we ever meet
I will think of thee
 
As i sit here at home
Such a distance away
Never seen you face
Or hear what you say
 
This foreigner boy
With eyes so blue
His hearts been
Waiting for a girl like you
 
For so long unloved
Flesh wounds on his heart
His willing to leave
And to make a new start
 
Another country 
To call his home
Before this blue eyed boy's
Heart turns to stone
 
I have waited so long
To heal the hole in my soul
I want to know what love is
Lost love, has taken it's toll

I want love to feel like the first time
So don't let go
For this foreigner boy 
Will love you so

The beat of my heart
Like a mountain of love
Until the end of time
Blue eyed boy and his dove


" written with some great tracks from Foreigner "

http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love.php

Details | Foreigner Poem |

ABC. Music is my First Love

AC/DC, the rockers from down under
Boston, with Tom Scholz on guitar, sweet thunder

Creedence Clearwater, singing Proud Mary
Deep Purple, from the 70's, rocking and hairy

Eagles, easy listening, bum hugging music
Foreigner, with their Englishman Mick

Gun, from Glasgow, Taking on the World
Heart, from Seattle, just have to be heard

Inxs, singing their Afterglow
Journey, from Frisco, under the Bay Bridge flow 

Kiss, in make up, after these Crazy Crazy Nights
Loverboy, from Canada, in concert excite

Marillion, prog rockers singing the lovely Kayleigh
Nazareth, from Scotland, singing Please Don't Judas Me  

OMD, with their song Enola Gay
Pink Floyd, just let Emily Play

Queen, without Freddie, but their show went on
Rush, from Toronto, three playing amazing songs

Styx, with Tommy Shaw, their blond blue eyed boy
Thin Lizzy, from Dublin, playing Inverness were a joy
 
Uriah Heep, named after a character by Dickens
Van Halen, with Eddie, and his guitar rockin lickin

Wishbone Ash, a favourite band of mine
XTC, singing Senses Working Overtime

Yes, with album covers, by Roger Dean
ZZ Tops, singing Legs, those legs need to be seen

Details | Foreigner Poem |

When And Why

When And Why

Concepts of right and wrong
White and black without the shades of grey
Where did those ideas come from?
Whose warped mind divided the world into two?
Murder is murder unless it is done on a battlefield?
Killing an unborn child is ok but only until it is born
It is okay for people to starve
But it isn’t legal to steal a love of bread to feed a family
Pets are left to waste away on the sides of the road
Or take them to a shelter and have them kill it for you
After all…it is painless to die
Animals can die for sport as long as they die running
It is okay as long as they don’t fight
People can be crippled for sport
It brings in the money
But we are told that it is not right to inflict injury
As long as the owners count their millions
It is alright to be a man until a woman wants your job
It is alright to be a woman until a foreigner takes your job
When did the world become so segmented?
So indecisive about what is right and wrong
When did we screw it all up?

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Waste

Waste

This one can go the way of all others
into the infinitesimal trash heap of frauds.
There, hidden in the hindsight
are a collection of words gone wrong
the graveyard of passion’s hopes
where love has played the foreigner,
distanced with unrequited dreams.

11/22/17

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Forgiveness

Life is indeed an incredible journey
when I was young I grew up in a different place
that place was the cause of many wars

When we left there, I was a mere child and
it was to allow us children the opportunity
for a better life and a chance for normalcy

Yet learning a new language, being ostracized
feeling the pain of being different and carrying
the stigma of being a foreigner was a heavy burden

And were all part of the process of assimilation
of fitting in, of being like everyone else
oft a painful journey both physically and mentally

Years of being different, melding to become the same
and so over time you blend in, the differences becoming
less stark, day by day, year by year

Then as if by magic you are one of them
you graduate high school and college and get a job
you have children, own a home and a standing in the community

You realize that there comes a time to forgive
forgive your parents for taking you from your old home
where you knew who you were and looked like everyone else

Forgive the other kids that bullied you and made you feel unwanted
for they were kids being kids and didn’t know any other way
to accept someone from someplace else

Forgive yourself for feeling the way you did towards them
for in the end we all learn, learn to adapt, learn about acceptance
and learn to forgive.

Andreas Simic©

Details | Foreigner Poem |

AMERICAN SOLDIER RISE

A FOREIGNER ASKED THIS QUESTION OF ME
“WHERE CAN I IN U.S. FIND SOLDIER TO SEE?”
HIS ENGLISH WAS BROKEN, BUT CLEARLY RECEIVED
YET, HOW COULD I BEST EXPLAIN WHAT I BELIEVED
THE ANSWER I GAVE TO THIS QUESTIONABLE TASK
SURPRISED HIM ACCORDING TO WHAT HE HAD ASKED
I SAID, “AN AMERICAN SOLDIER WAS MORE….
THAN SOMEONE ENLISTED OR SENT OFF TO SHORE”
“AN AMERICAN SOLDIER HAS MORE TO BE SEEN….
THAN A MAN OR A WOMAN IN CAMOUFLAGE GREEN”
HIS QUESTION HAD MADE ME LOOK DEEPER WITHIN 
BECOMING AWARE OF HOW BLESSED I HAD BEEN
I POINTED MY FINGER AROUND SO HE’D SEE
THAT ALL THOSE AROUND US WE’RE SOLDIERS TO ME
INCLUDING THAT SMALL CHILD NEXT DOOR PLAYING BALL
THAT PERSON SALUTING THE FLAG STANDING TALL
THAT FATHER AND SON OUTSIDE PLAYING TOGETHER
THAT MOTHER AND DAUGHTER EMBRACING EACH OTHER
THAT DOCTOR OR NURSE SHOWING CARE TO THE ILL
THAT ELDERLY VETERAN-QUIET AND STILL
THAT CASE WORKER HELPING THOSE WITH SPECIAL NEEDS
THAT MINISTER PRAYING FOR ALL TO BELIEVE
THAT BANKER AND POSTMAN WHO WORKS ALL DAY LONG
THAT ARTIST AND SINGER WHO PAINTS US A SONG
THAT SINGLE MOM DOING THE BEST THAT SHE COULD
THAT TEEN WHO CONTINUES TO LIVE LIKE HE SHOULD
THAT AMERICAN IMMIGRANT LEGALLY HERE
THAT MAN IN HIS WHEELCHAIR YEAR AFTER YEAR
THAT PROTESTER MARCHING AND SHOUTING HIS VIEWS
THAT SPOKESPERSON GIVING THE SIX O’CLOCK NEWS
THAT CHRISTIAN WHO’S KNEELING AND PRAYING ALONE
THAT MOTHER OR WIFE WORKING DAILY AT HOME
THAT WOMAN WITH CANCER IS ALSO A FIGHTER
THAT WIDOW WHO CLINGS TO HER MEMORIES TIGHTER
THAT MERCHANT THAT SELLS US OUR FOOD AND OUR OIL
THAT CHILD BEING BORN ON AMERICAN SOIL
THEY ALL ARE AMERICANS DOING THEIR PART
AND IN SOME SMALL WAY THEY ARE SOLDIERS AT HEART
I ENDED MY TALK BECAUSE HOW HE WAS STARING
AS IF WITH CONFUSION AT WHAT I WAS SHARING
HE THEN, IN HIS CUSTOM, STOOD STRAIGHT WHILE HE NODDED
LOOKED AT ME AND QUIETLY-SOFTLY APPLAUDED
I THEN SHED A TEAR WHEN HE SPOKE THIS TO ME
“AN AMERICAN SOLDIER IN YOU I CAN SEE”
HE WALKED AWAY AND APPEARED TO HAVE FOUND CLOSURE
WHILE I STOOD THERE PRAISING GOD FOR THE REAL SOLDIER
THAT REAL ONES NOW SERVING RIGHT HERE AND ABROAD
I STAND AND SALUTE YOU AND LOUDLY APPLAUD
TO THOSE WHO ARE SERVING AND THOSE WHO HAVE DIED
FOR THOSE WHO ONCE SERVED AND REMEMBER WITH PRIDE
THE STRUGGLES OF WAR TO KEEP FREEDOM WON’T CEASE
FOR FREEDOM EXIST WHILE YOU FIGHT TO BRING PEACE
BECAUSE OF YOUR SACRIFICE GIVEN EACH DAY
I’M ABLE TO LIVE IN THIS GREAT U.S.A

THE RED, WHITE AND BLUE IS WHAT SHINES IN YOUR EYES
AMERICAN SOLDIER...RISE

Details | Foreigner Poem |

HAPPY VOTING - WELCOME TO THE UK IMMIGRATION ASYLUM

HAPPY VOTING - WELCOME TO THE UK 
IMMIGRATION ASYLUM


There are poor people in
the UK and their plight is
always ignored,
The government don't
want to know - but they
invite others on board.
The lunatics of the asylum
are in the government,
Making a bloody mess
and a total argument.

The UK has poor people - 
yet they are all penalised,
Maybe because of their
culture, as they are so 
despised.
The UK is now FULL - and
we cannot take anymore,
We should copy Australia - 
and show immigrants the
door!

We always cater for the
foreigner - and help is
what they get.
Giving them all sanctuary - 
and offering them a
cigarette!
Our UK government really
has the money.
But they give it all to the
invaders - even if they're
phony!

Come on in! You are so
welcome! To little Britain's
shores.
Whatever our own people
get - you can also call it
yours!
The EU is so corrupt - and
the members are on the
fiddle,
Scratching each others 
bottoms - with a dame in
the middle!

Voting now for a better
life - but we've heard all
this before.
Every time it's polling day - 
it is a bloody bore!
There is no one to trust - 
in the crowded little
Britain,
But if you are an immigrant - 
you will be truly smitten!

And even if you lose your
seat - and become a down 
and out.
You can always get a plum
job - earning lots of clout!
There is no end to the perks
of the office, especially in the
Whitehall Office.
Then if you are voted out - 
China is on the surface!

The joys of being an MP - or
a councillor in the UK.
The perks are bloody endless,
everything's okay!
Even if you are an MP, and
married to a transgender,
Just keep it to yourself - or
sing: 'Love Me Tender!'

But we should now say; 
'NO!' And not take any more.
Please pull up the drawbridge
and kick them out the door.
We are way too soft - but 
the money's always plenty.
But if you are a "WHITE" UK
resident - you will NOT get
a bloody penny.


((HAPPY VOTING!!!!))


BY
DARRYL ASHTON

Details | Foreigner Poem |

An Outrageous Case of Illegal Immigration

An Outrageous Case of Illegal Immigration

By Elton Camp

We hear much about invasion from Mexico
But the U.S. northern border is the way to go
Aliens can, and do, cross with greatest ease
For proof, here’s an example of one of these

There is a man who comes and goes at will
He has done it for many years and does it still
Since he acts friendly and is always smiling
So, he is given an exemption from profiling

Though his appearance shows he’s not one of us
Without any doubt, he is some old foreign cuss
His strange clothes, thick beard and too-long hair
Show that he comes from somewhere “over there”

Oh, it’s true that he acts plenty generous enough
Friendship he buys by giving away valuable stuff
The government really should say, “What the heck!”
Since on private lives he makes a thorough check

Arbitrary standards of his own selection he’s set
That determine what, if anything, people will get
Should some foreigner ever be allowed to dictate
His own standards by which Americans he will rate

Should an alien establish what’s wrong and right
And be able to do it without protest or any fight?
Where is the outcry from the media or the press
Why is it this outrage they totally fail to address?

The employment he provides sure isn’t here
That he runs a virtual sweatshop is what I fear
According to what a good many people say
He accords his band of workers little or no pay

Since his manufacturing is done practically free,
To American companies it seems unfair to me
It’s unlikely that any tax this bad man does pay
For his workers, a union has nothing it can say

Worse, it is to our children he directs his appeal
To a foreigner their admiration and love to steal
Who knows just what his ultimate goal might be
Shall we wait passively and hope to finally see?

No!  The time to take action is now well overdue
With these illegal border crossings we are through
Since it is well known when Santa Claus usually flies
The government should shoot him out of the skies

Details | Foreigner Poem |

- It Is Not Easy - Try It Yourself -


              Not easy to speak or write a foreign language
              How many languages do you speak or write
              There are many that comes to your country
              who do not know the language ..... it is difficult
              I spoke with a "foreigner" today .... nice guy
              He worked on the garbage car
              A very well paid job in Norway
              The box of garbage must be wheeled down to the port
              I'd forget ... ran after the car with my box
              Smiling and cheerful, he said:
           * Norwegian: "Do glemte sitte ut do " ?
                                              -  ((Do you forget to put the box out ?))
           * Translated: "You forgot to sit on the toilet " (?)




 - A smile from reality :)))

14.11.2013
A-L  Andresen :)

Details | Foreigner Poem |

2 humans 2 hearts And 1 love

Once there was a girl with a tough personality. She was considered to be a friendly and talkative. She was extremely tough regardless of love and crashes. She had wishes and dreams but was never sure when it’s gone come true. She was hard working always to satisfy her family and be a great daughter. She was tough about love but at the same time she knew a special and incomparable person will come to her life, who will be very different than others. When and where she will meet him, she never thought about it because she believed that we shouldn’t look for love, the reason was that love comes itself. However let’s see how and where she finds that special person.
One night after working so hard of her project she was bored.
“Oh God I am so bored let’s see if my friends are online I will talk to them but at the same time gone download a song” she got online but unfortunately non of her friends were online so she thought to herself why don’t I make a new friend she requested a random boy who she never knew before. After a week passed and that boy accepted her request but they never got the chance to talk to each other.
“Oh this boy looks so cute but why can’t I talk to him” although she wasn’t trusting any boys but her heart would tell her that this boy seems to be a good boy. So she used to leave an offline massages for him in order to contact each other and be friends. One day they both were online so their conversation started.
Boy…Hi
Girl…Hi
Boy… how are u and how did u added me
Girl… I’m fine thanks well I was bored last week so I randomly added u.
They started questioning each other and she asked him have you got a brother or a sister he answered I have 5 sister but no bro. She reply but I have 2 sis and no brother. The time of Salah came and she had to pray and she asked if she can leave the conversation and pray but he was surprised that she prays. After she did her prayers she asked him why were you surprised when I said its time for me to pray? He reply afghans who live in foreigner most of them are not religious.
Weeks passed and one day she was so excited.
Girl… You know what
Boy…what
Girl… I have a new baby sister
Boy… congratulations
They kept contacting each other even though he had exams on that time but he would still take out some time for her. At the same time he would study for exams.

Few month later they became best friends and one day he told her that he like her but she didn’t understand what does he mean by like. She called her best friend and told her he told her that he likes her but she doesn’t know why he said this because he loves her or just a simple like.
Hey dude … he told me he likes me but I don’t know what he means by that.
My Friend… ha ha stupid liking is the first step of love I think he loves u.
She also liked him but she needed time to know him more. He was so innocent and respectful boy she had ever meet. They became so closer and their friendship turned to love after a passing of time. She didn’t know much about his family and background but however she loved him and thought he is a right person for her life partner.
For every relationship to became stronger and trust worthy it needs time. Relationships are like building a house. Some relationship ends fast because it was build quick and the foundation was not strong enough but some relationships last forever the reason is that the foundation which that relationship was build was strong. The foundation of every relationship is trust, promises, honesty, truthfulness, modesty, respect and most important thing is a true love. Be the kind of person you would like to be with. Some people come into our lives, make footprints on our hearts and we are never the same. People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.
She always wanted someone who is respectful and modest towards girls. Someone who is honest but she never saw any boy with those qualities in him, she only saw those qualities in him. Even though she faced so much hardships, impenetrability and tests in life however she knew that when Allah tests you, it is never to destroy you, it’s to teach us something in life that we do not know. When he removes something in your possession it is only to empty your hands, for an even greater gift. She learned so much from those test and tried hard to become better Muslim.
Now they know each other and they love each other a lot. She has a full trust on him more than herself. Even though they sometimes have argument for some Issues but their love is strong enough and they are a smart people to find the solutions. No matter what we face and how we act towards it but it shouldn’t affect a person’s trust and love in relationship because it’s so hard to make one and takes a second to destroy it. This was a good story. It’s sad that it takes a long time for people to understand values and life. We as people are so consumed with our own lifestyles and duties we have made for ourselves.
I miss him more then he could ever know, I often ask Allah why did he have to go? I fell in love and he means so much to me, if he could look into my heart then he could see. I found something so special and it is for real, being without my love is so hard to deal. I'll be here waiting until I can be with you again, because not only are you the love of my life you are also my friend.
I just want to tell you,
I think of you every moment of the day.
And how much I love you,
Words could never even say....

I just want to tell you,
I love you with all my heart.
I wish for us to be together,
Never shall we be apart.

Details | Foreigner Poem |

A Tall Tragic Tale

On the day before Christmas, 1997 I was in a supermarket
Saw many people, I thought it’ll take long time to buy gifts
Christmas getting more and more annoying every year,
Cursed and wondered if kids really play with costly toys.

Noticed a small boy pressing doll against chest, touching hair
Looking sad, asking granny if she has enough to buy the doll
She asked to wait, looked around, left the boy with the doll
I walked to him, and asked who he wanted to give the doll to.

He said “The doll my sister wanted the most this Christmas”
I replied, “Don’t worry, Santa would bring it to her after all.
The boy said,” I don’t think Santa can give where she is now
My mom will carry it as she's about to go to see God soon” 

I told Dad, tell mom not to go, wait my return from the market
I reached my pocket, had enough for the doll and some spare
The granny came, I left market finishing shopping differently.
On my way home, I couldn’t get the little boy out of my mind.

Then, remembered having read the news of a drunk truck driver
Hitting a car in which there was a young lady and a little girl 
The little girl died right away and the young lady was in coma.
Next day, read the news that the young lady has passed away.

Bought roses, went to the mortuary where dead body exposed
Saw her in coffin, the photo of the boy and the doll on her chest.

                                 ************
**Unfortunately it is a true story except my going to the mortuary
though I wanted it much but could not as I was a foreigner in 
Those days visiting my son in Atlanta, GA. My only past-time was to
Visit Malls and reading newspapers. 

December 23, 2014
Form: Free Verse
First Place win

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Nostalgia-Song of the Expatriate

(I'm 
an 
Indian 
lassie, 
was 
born 
in 
West 
Africa, 
(Nigeria), 
Grew 
up 
in 
South 
Africa 
(Swaziland) 
and 
currently 
live 
in 
East 
Africa. 
(Tanzania). 
So 
I 
live 
in 
Daresalam, 
near 
the 
Indian 
Ocean.


I 
might 
be 
like 
any 
other 
expatriate, 
desirous 
of 
their 
homeland
Upon 
my 
country's 
soil 
fervently 
wishing 
to 
stand.
I 
can't 
help 
feeling 
profusely 
foreigner
in 
this 
highly 
foreign 
land
I'd 
give 
anything 
to 
go 
back, 
say 
even 
be 
a 
mariner
for 
there's 
an 
ocean 
to 
cross 
before 
familiar 
sand.

An 
ocean 
with 
dear 
motherland's 
name
greets 
me 
all 
the 
way 
here 
with 
tantalizing 
lure
Tiring 
me 
of 
nostalgia's 
seemingly 
endless 
game
reminding 
the 
distance 
between 
the 
shores 
is 
galore!

Everything 
here 
seems 
just 
too 
alien 
and 
foreign
The 
air 
seems 
foreign 
punctuated 
by 
exotic 
birds
In 
this 
land 
I 
still 
feel 
as 
if 
lost 
in 
some 
warren
and 
the 
foreign 
language 
- 
I'm 
at 
a 
loss 
for 
words!

I 
feel 
estranged 
and 
disoriented, 
struck 
with 
nostalgia
though 
I 
might 
not 
be 
such 
a 
patriot 
any 
more
The 
awaited 
journey 
to 
India 
from 
Tanzania
to 
reach 
familiar 
ground 
of 
lakhs 
and 
crore.

Ah, 
the 
welcoming 
scenes 
of 
my 
homeland
always 
so 
enticing 
and 
inviting
It 
might 
seem 
surprising 
that 
for 
me 
she's 
a 
dreamland
but 
a 
desire 
to 
go 
back, 
since 
ages 
I've 
been 
fighting.

I'm 
home-
sick, 
waiting 
so 
long 
to 
be 
back 
home
There's 
no 
place 
like 
home-
sweet-
home
Here 
I 
feel 
I've 
lost 
my 
tracks
Like 
a 
homeless 
wanderer 
do 
I 
roam.

As 
here 
I 
feel 
no 
less 
like 
a 
Gulliver 
on 
his 
travels
yet 
to 
rehabilitate 
from 
homesickness 
might 
take 
a 
lifetime
For now, I can merely 
sing of motherland's 
marvels
and wait soberly for fate 
and destiny's chime.

But an underlying truth 
here: I feel alienated 
everywhere
as if I hailed from No-
man's-land
They think I neither 
blend with the Indian 
nor 
the african
but hope they respect 
my very individual brand.

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Villanelle: One or the other has to give in a tug of war

Villanelle: One or the other has to give in a tug of war

One or the other has to give in a tug of war
If for altruistic reasons you invite the foreigner
In order to accommodate the guest from afar

You cannot make him feel welcome if you bar
His goat his god his concubine from your door
One or the other has to give in a tug of war

Some men cannot move without saddling altar
On their backs even if you protest as a martyr
In order to accommodate the guest from afar

The guest might share your bed with daughter
Though not the status his god reigns superior
One or the other has to give in a tug of war

He could barter his tongue for your own by law
But never the way he prays nor his women’s wear
In order to accommodate the guest from afar

The host not the guest has to give in a tug of war
If he knew the guest had come to stay forever
One or the other has to give in a tug of war
In order to accommodate the guest from afar

©  T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014

Details | Foreigner Poem |

metadata

remember it's not the "actual" data
it's only the metadata, but we
never met a data we didn't love
there's treasure in detritus debris

with intense Holmesian determination
we'll be able to infer and deduce
some linked reference, some correlation
between pointed data bits obtuse

government or company or corporation
don't matter the size of digital scrap
data microscope will reveal motivation
wanted are all of the small bits of crap

listing phone logs, search queries and such
myriad IP addresses and email recipients 
to squirrel away with the lightest of touch
GPS Lat-Long located and databased insidious

to imply we spy on domestics is irrational
since we're "multi-national" by determiner
we're only looking at the "foreign nationals"
'course from "over there" you're the foreigner

you see there's nowhere to run away
no thought too trivial or secret to reveal
what networked digital crumbs can convey
is what gives metadata its big data appeal

© Goode Guy 2013-08-22

Details | Foreigner Poem |

Barbara-Whats In Your Name



My name was popular way back when I was born
I’m sure my parents had no idea what it meant
It’s rare now, it surely sounds old fashioned
But I know my family thought I was heaven sent

”Foreigner, traveler and stranger” I am told
Odd that I have never even traveled very far 
Strangely enough I do have those yearnings
Perhaps I am really from a distant star….


I was named after a dear friend they say
She was a nurse and I became one too
Raised a family and have been content
Should I have traveled more? I wish I knew….

Details | Foreigner Poem |

The Stranger

Broken tears is where it all begins, the love has lifted for now a mist in the air. Tears fall upon and evaporate into love fog. Yours eyes became cold lacking compassion, unresponsive with those shallow stares.
Stranger in your heart never knew the love we shared shall ever fall apart. Never would have I thought I would be an absence of your heart. To take a journey into your scorned mind, and really see how your feeling inside.
Your eyes tells me a story of all your lost, even all of your lies. Your soul has begun to die.
Yours cry suffer to inflict pain and torture. Tears began to burn and endure to enflame your pillows at night, intense dislike.
No one is there to kiss, and hold tight behold your over night burial site.
Leaveing you in a slumber your heart is slaughtered, savagely murdered.
Yearning to once again become a slave, owned by another.
Laughter is what you miss, going through withdraw from my kiss.
Watching me from doorways is harder to resists.
Remember me? It's the stranger you set a side, but now miss.
Broken bliss pitiful, pathetic promises. Petty pleasures emptiness whispers, words that leaves blisters. Cutting deeper than any scissors.
Tears over flowing deeper than any river. Symbolism repesentation of broken mirrors.
Termination limits of love, I perish from existence.
French kisses of death, hollow sunken indented last breath.
Losing your voice likely to result in defeat, as you couldn't began to speak.
Grief over becomes you difficulty, grasping for a glimpse of me.
Shattered love we mastered, you discover no longer your partner.
Forever thee foreigner you disclaimer...
So therefore you became...
The Stranger.