Best Homeland Poems
I never saw my home land,
when I see it on TV,
a strange ache is inside me,
I do not understand.
I was born in (censored),
a country far away,
from where I currently stay.
That's where my parents fled.
How can I long for Egypt,
a country in turmoil,
with only foreign soil,
while my heart was ripped
by that very man from there,
who stole me and abused,
and tortured, sold and used;
who made me say 'grand-père'.
I never saw my home land.
I need to know my roots.
one day I will set foot,
and I will hold the hand
of my family who missed me,
so many years, and yearned,
until they finally learned
I was still alive, and free.
Until that day it's exile.
Trying hard to survive,
write, heal, study, thrive,
wanting to see the Nile.
I am hiding where I'm staying,
sometimes it drives me mad.
My past makes me so sad,
I almost give up, aching.
My watan, you won't save me,
I just want to understand
why this foreign land
sounds like healing, being free.
***
October 01, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Giyani, my homeland, my forefathers land
Located deep in South Africa in the Limpopo province
Where all things are bright and beautiful
Far from fraud of fertility
It's an infamous land
The moonlight outshines the streetlight
Giyani is indeed a beauty
It's like the Garden of Eden
Full of fruit trees
It's sweetest mangoes, oranges and Tomatoes seeds from ZZ2
I know the roots of it's trees are valuable
Oh, my grey aged great grandfathers childhood
Mother Nature chose this place
The birds on the thatched roots, are the tourist attraction
The Ritavi River running by
Everyday the sun shine and set
And brightens up the sky
Indeed Mother Nature chose you, Giyani
You're the promising land
Flowers looks beautiful
The land where all of us are the best we can possibly be
They say you're poor
But I can't see it
Do you have to cry out somebody to believe?
Believe me everybody cries sometimes
even me!
Sitting on the boundary, defending Pakistani border,
Not feeling alone as its Almighty Order,
Security the way I take Almighty Pleasure,
Face all troubles Don’t matter how Harder,
You the sword of nation, and country pride,
Chest you up brave heart, don’t sit aside,
Strive for success in the battle field,
Chase your enemy, don’t you Hide,
Protection of country lead You earn the Heaven Above,
Vaporize your passion like blazing stove,
Nothing is important then the worth of Homeland,
Give your best as you do in Love,
The honor, dignity and delight of Martyr,
Takes your soul so Higher,
As the pleasure of real success is Eternal,
So! Don’t evade, never give up, Not be Tire.
(Feel it alright as The Best Man do a Best Job as You! ! !)
A crystal-clear picture!
The embodiment of courage!
An unsung Warrior, vigorously protecting uprooted,
heart-broken kin, and many shelterless,
After a devastating partition of the homeland!
A man in his prime, giving up
dreams of comfort, luxury, indulgence,
Embraces a life of unimaginable hardships,
a life of never-ending toil,
So others feel safe, after a harrowing experience!
A life of everyday struggle for survival,
A life of torturous self-deprivation,
a life of agonizing separation -
From own loved ones,
so others live with theirs!
I remember the powerful hands,
which symbolized strength, offering a refuge,
I remember the devotion and dedication,
the tenderest care, the soulful empathy!
I remember the determined voice which symbolized
assurance, calming fearful souls.
Partition of a homeland - an unforeseen,
traumatic, curse for millions of sufferers,
Surviving with bare minimum, in an
unknown land, for an unpredictable future!
Leaving behind all cherished memories,
precious and prized possessions.
To me, One man symbolized -
how to climb uphill
Carrying a formidable weight,
on the steepest mountain,
And reach the summit
with sheer determination and indomitable spirit!
He is My Father!
September 8, 2020
Winner In Courage - Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cook
Sycamores certainly speak French, cypresses - ancient Greek, the Old Testament's olives are bilingual: they speak Hebrew and Aramaic. Birch is a Russian tree though growing in Canada. So small and frail (they wither abroad), already gone into a winter trance, she is silent but she is silent à la russe. That's how silent bears in dens are, that's how drunkards listen to the voice of the devils dissolved in their blood, that's how old believers pray, that's how a poet meditates on his faraway homeland and, finally, that's how silent my girlfriend was, accompanying me to the airport. What are we doing here, you and me, between fall and winter, at the crossroad of four Canadian corners?
a hush of partings
of pursed lips and lonely hearts…
we should go home birch
10.12.2019
December Or January Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Quote: "“They have no idea what it is like to lose home at the risk of never finding home again, have your entire life split between two lands and become the bridge between two countries.” –unknown
Amidst the whispers of the waves, I sail,
An expatriate adrift in memories pale.
Through years that roll like distant tides,
I've seen the changes, where once I bide.
In lands where mango, guava, and berry trees stood,
Now swallowed by progress, misunderstood.
Housing estates rise, devouring my past,
Soccer fields and cricket grounds, memories amassed.
No familiar faces in this foreign expanse,
Lost in the crowd, a solitary dance.
Relatives meet, but the gap's too wide,
They see the changes, the scars I hide.
I yearn for the homeland, under azure skies,
Where verdant bushes once met my eyes.
But alas, it's but a dream, a wistful sigh,
My voyage home, forever in the sky.
Yet in the heart's compass, the longing persists,
For the land of my roots, where memories exist.
Though oceans apart, in dreams, I roam,
A voyage to homeland, a whispered poem.
In Gaza's streets, where silence screams
A humanitarian crisis, a people's dreams
Unheard voices, lost in the pain
As bombs fall hard, and hope wanes
The world stands by, a distant hum
As lives are lost, and freedom's undone
Children weep, their future unsure
Their cries echo, but who's listening for?
Protesters rise, with voices bold
Demanding justice, for a story untold
But they're met with force, with chains and pain
Their courage crushed, their voices vain
Gaza's land, a story old
Palestinian hearts, with a history told
Displacement, occupation, and strife
A people's struggle, a long, hard life
The international community, a distant shore
Their words are hollow, as Gaza's people roar
No justice comes, no peace is found
As the world watches, Gaza's life dwindles down
But still we rise, with voices loud
For justice, freedom, and a future proud
We'll stand with Gaza, through every test
For humanity's sake, we won't find rest
Let's break the silence, let's shatter the chains
For Gaza's people, we'll rise above the pain
We'll stand as one, with hearts united strong
For justice, peace, and a future where all belong
A world was created where every individual believed that being represented
was essential as religions require symbols
to be interpreted by the ordained,
meaning of things provided for us like fertilizer on furrowed fields,
law & tax codes, medical knowledge, emotional expressions governed by consensus,
a democracy of dellusions,
dissent is dangerous and humility heroic,
where surrender preserves and patriotism perverts,
clowns kings and criminals having wings,
Medeval Christianity mastered markmanship of community authority seizing
the sugar of inventive intuition,
terrorizing the truth of personal experience,
thrones were tailored temptations, temples entrapments of greater mystery,
cathedrals collossal contraptions for centralizing consciousness, books burned,
jewels for fools & the fooled manackled to the alter of passivity,
masses being timid tools concentrating their energies on empire expansion,
exiled from ego,
crusades to crush criticism, a monopoly of memory
and torture the text of theocracy,
Cathars killed for lessons become occult,
unlawful cognizance of God within,
authority addicts abandoning their oaths to protect people,
subjects countrymen become,
being pledges & collateral for debts incurred for imperial improvidence,
babies of the masses transformed into bankers' bounty via certificates,
maturing securities on malignant markets of merchantile magic,
digital slave trade,
self governance gainsaid as being a primitive pathology,
a symptom of paranoia or maybe xenophobia,
personally voting on taxation, education and wars apostacy,
J.A.B.
MY HEART IN YOUR HOMELAND
Cupid must have been busy he forgot my heart,
And so instead of a man I've fallen in love,
it is in the mountain ranges my eyes dart.
Sweet, the giddy puffy white clouds above
outstretch his arms to share a shady luff
amongst swarming emerald Spruce that skirt
'round the silky slopes-- like some gloves.
Down quiet is the Loch that stretches its girt
of lucidity allowing passerby's to see pert
Salmon and Trout dancing playfully below,
Delighting both my eyes and so my smart,
a fishing rod, I want to slowly low.
This nature's wonder, I behold for free
soon, I surely want to share with my honeybee.
Some bumpy, some smooth are the long winding roads
One day along my ride, I say hello to this Adonis man
Easy as one, two and three our talks-- climb and flowed
Excluded in my plan, wow! Our love story began...
Cascading soft and longer is our attention span
so velvet then is the glowing blow of our said hello.
No longer, I desire Japan but be home in your land
as to the World's theatre we want to show,
our love like barley seed it sprouted and it grow!
Bright yellow bloom it is while us, a fever red
of fruitful trust and hopeful tomorrows. . .
May we never bleed then later be shred,
instead, like the Spruce wrap 'round the slopes
together we will hold hands to boldly cope and lope.
_____________________________________________________________
©O. E. Guillermo
10:31 pm, January 19, 2015
Africa My Homeland
I am the face
fixed on a map
A space
with boundary, leaving no gap
I am a homeland
desecrated when I was abducted from my rightful nation
A brand
with a name which precedes my reputation
I am a continent
incapacitated not to live up to his flair
A dissident
doors shut daily to his face unless I straightened my hair
I am a riddle
narrated to my kids stuck in Britain, France and America
A bridle
used only by Africans for Africa
From the room over looking of the face of graves
I thought of a future of the Arabic homeland!
I'd prefer my mania back
Don't give me a panic attack
The TV heads state
Global threats are so great
As part of the blitzing wolf pack
Author's note: Global security is the key to "homeland" security. The real problem with this idea is that it means addressing issues rather than making a small number of people very rich while carrying on hysterically. Is this complicated? I think not. I intend to do the right thing and sleep well at night. I hope you can do the same.
i love the united states where not full of fakes!the land of the free,the brave and the strong cant you hear gods angels sing our song!i will fight for my country again and again homeland sercurity my faithful friends!the agents are taking satan minions down bam!stand up with us show us your guts,we need plenty of wemen and men to take satan down without sheading a frown!homeland we protect the world if the people only knew they would see the god fearing american we truely be!
The new millenia has delivered a genesis
of global corporate government,
a religion of salvation through submission to the State,
politicians as priest, as pest,
collection plates around every corner,
confession rooms in community centers, communion with false currency,
tax code as Bible, Commander in Chief as Christ,
the man or woman arousing their neighbor's suspicion that private property
is being stealthily seized,
that sovereignty is not just for nations but for individuals,
vigilantes of enlightenment engaged in martyrdom to be their own,
not strawman accounts,
contending to keep their wages, defending "Due Process" with dignity,
these frontiersmen of freedom pouncing on the pall
of political sorcery,
being met with scorn & scoff
not by officers and officials
but from the bellows of fellows -
J.A.B.
The fairest land among other earthly spot
She is blessed, dark and more beautiful than what other folks thought
Surrounded by numerous river for bath and food
Her shelve is seen with abundant oil to lubricate her food
Her tent is in the west pole with giant children of African black race
Call her name Nigeria, my homeland
Call her name Nigeria my homeland is fast pacing
The green pasture for the worlds continuous grazing
Nature never frown at her and her air is so refreshing
May her children that comes find caress that abolish pain
Call her name Nigeria, my homeland whose soil yields gain
Nigeria my homeland is filled with milk and honey
The salvage ground for those whose land is angry
May this land lay a bed for her babes rather than a hewn rocky cradle
Nigeria my homeland is calling on all to make love our final option
To raise our flag tall in the committee of other nations
With love strong chord Nigeria will never face confusion
Let build our land in unity instead of heart invasion
Let pride in our culture instead of hatred and too much commotion
Let make love our final option in building a great nation
BY
MICHAEL EDISON