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Best Immigration Poems | Poetry

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

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The Best Immigration Poems

Details | Immigration Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Stars and those with Stripes

"America First",
is the worst.
Should not thinking of others,
be your thirst?
Those who are selfish,
end up being cursed!
Soon they'll be last,
instead of first.

Who among you,
prefers guns and war?
Do you really have freedom,
shore to shore?
If most have less,
are you happy with more?
Should the privileged few,
be guarding the door?
rots you to the core.
In the end,
you won't know who it's for?

What does it mean,
to be "Great Again"?
I'll listen to learn,
try your best to explain!
Were there fields of cotton and sugarcane?
Was it back of the bus perfect,
everyone staying in their own lane?
A pain striped passport,
for those on the soul train.
If you know the truth,
please speak it plain.
I want to find great,
I've wracked my brain.
Whose America are you trying to regain?

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018

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Don’t look at me 
As though I am an alien or a stranger,
Don’t let the dagger of antipathy 
Fly out of your eyes.

I am your neighbor.

Don’t call me a foe, an antagonist or a rival,
Don’t roll up your mistrustful sleeves for a fight.

I am your friend.
Don’t hold this murderous weapon in your kind hand, 
Don’t deny me the right to work, to eat, or to live.

I am your brother.
If destiny willed me to be born 
On this side of the frontier line,
If my parents wished me 
To wear these clothes 
And taught me their own dances,
Do we have to be adversaries?  
If fate desired me to speak 
This tongue foreign to you
And our skins’ color to differ,
Do we have to be competitors?
If necessity decided for us 
To live in this country, 
In the North, South, East, or West,
Do we have to be opponents?
If I believe in Jesus, 
Or Allah,
If this is my philosophy, 
My tradition, 
My history 
And my culture,
Do we have to be enemies?
No! A million times: no!

Please, look at me with new eyes 
And throw away your injurious prejudices.
What do you see but a person like you 
Who wants, desires and hopes for the same things in life:
A home, 
Some friends, 
Some love?

I walk, 
I talk, 
I eat, 
I sleep, 
I dream, 
I laugh and I cry. 

Just like you.

I’m born, 
I grow up, 
I learn, 
I suffer, 
I bleed 
And I die.

Just like you.

I’m a father, 
A mother, 
A brother, 
A sister, 
A son, 
And a daughter.

Just like you.

You see: we are alike. 
We are the same. 
We are brothers.
Listen to me my neighbor, my friend, and my ally: 
I am telling you the truth.
We are the victims of schemes, 
Well planned in advance
By deceitful evil-hearted men 
Who wished for our destruction.
They, masters of savage forgery, dividers of mankind
Have tricked us throughout history 
With well-orchestrated lies
And with treacherous stories. 
These intellectually impotent criminals
Have instilled poison in your heart and mine.
Thus, by cultivating hatred, bitterness and rage,
They managed to shape us to ruthless foes, 
To merciless enemies,
To cruel animals.

Please, listen to me! It is true. We are brothers.
Let us therefore with irresistible will cross all frontier lines 
That the past has erected between us, 
Thus making divisions vanish.
Let us with supreme power break the bonds of history,
Religion and culture and run into each other’s arms.
Let us uproot from our tormented hearts thorny mistrust
That was planted there thousands of years ago.
Let us seize ammunition from destructive hatred,
And make war capitulate.
Let us sink the cholera of bitterness 
In the affectionate sea of universal accord. 

And finally,

Let us unite and march to higher claims, 
To incomparable glory
Where peace can blossom today.
Thus, both of us will go to sleep at last,
Fearless of each other tonight.

© Demetrios Trifiatis 
    08 September 2015

NOTE: This poem, after having been edited, is posted again because 
 of the acute migration and refugee problem that has been created 
in Europe. Greece, my country, receives thousands and even tenths 
of thousands of refugees and illegal immigrants each day. In some of 
the Greek islands the migrants are more than the Greeks. Some of these
 people leave for Europe where in countries like F.Y.R.O.M., Serbia, Hungary
 Bulgaria, Austria, Germany, France, Italy have created social and economic problems because of their numbers. This fact prompted me, after the suggestion
of a good friend at PS, to repost the poem so as to ask from all, migrants and natives, understanding and tolerance for the good of peace! Thank you!  

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015

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Sun Dance

~Sun Dancing~         

Bright yellow sparks glisten around the landscape
Sheer environment expose  
Warmth slinks down every step        
So--  Invigorating 
Spur like rays muster in long light
The wolves wait to howl
Soon--Bunch of flowers 
Huddle in with sunlit love
Luminous rave  

By; pd

(For contest) 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Language Barrier

I couldn’t understand the language she spoke,

at least not all of it,

but the emotion pouring past her lips, 

the tears in her eyes, her clenched and shaking fists

enunciated more clearly,

than any piece of English Poetry I had ever read,

and grabbed me, held me still.

                   …In that moment, her soul was in my arms.

In that finite, tender breath of our lives,

she was my mother, my best friend…

but I could not console her. 

I didn’t have the words;

and my heart sank into the 

concrete between us,

wet with the pain of God’s rain

and her tears. 

                  …Were my tears

So, I simply opened my palms

toward her crouched form and 

spoke the only words I could 

fathom, that would be accepted

by a stranger on a dangerous street. 

"I am sorry, It will be okay. God will bless you."

I knew she did not understand…

"Lo siento" 

                  “que va a estar bien”    

                            “Dios te bendecira’ “ 

the words were as messy as the overturned

duffle bag at her feet…and fumbled, slowly

from my lips, as my knees hit the street.

Two strangers, cried in the rain,

knowing nothing of each other’s suffering,

and yet we shared the weight,

together, for those few moments;

the barrier of language was broken.

Love spoke for us.  

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

…Love transcends any language


Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2014

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Distant shores of virgin land

Distant shores of virgin land

New land with meadows, mountains and ridges,
of sandy golden beaches, waters blue,
over the bay most famous of bridges,
distant shores to youthful visions anew.
The vast land of golden soil, arched beaches,
where the rock with rugged beauty remains.
Thick forests as far as the eye reaches,
changing to highland, bush and treeless plains.
A virgin land for many with past dreams,
venture to find in a culture blended,
their place amongst those entering in streams,
to live their life’s in a country splendid.

For the young and spirited to advance
in a beautiful land of vast expanse.

18th June, 2018

For Distant Shores poetry contest: sponsored by Robert Haigh 

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2018

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Go Away

wars, drugs, poverty famine, fear, rape, death and degradation that's the kind of world desperate immigrants flee and yet, we won't let them in go die on the other side of our new wall and stay away, this is ours we should be ashamed...they are fellow humans there's no kindness in our hearts no tolerance, even for God's commandment that we love our neighbors, as we love ourselves (Suzette Prime) Aug. 11, 2018

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018

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The Meaning of Bread and Tortillas

"Mi primo" means my cousin in Spanish.
He calls me his "primita"- little cousin.
This is the story of how mi primo
Taught me about the meaning of bread;
Of the meaning of tortillas...
He and I are exchanging languages 
Over Dairy Queen chicken strips;
I repeat the words he teaches me
Back to him in my all-american 
White girl accent,
Trying to learn how to Salsa 
With a tongue that only knows
How to stumble over the trills
And rapid-fire hot-sauce syllables-
He makes me say them again and
Again until I sound like a distorted 
Calle 13 track on repeat...
Mi primo offers me the bread
That came with his meal;
I ask him why he doesn't want it.
He says he doesn't eat bread;
He is Hispanic; he eats tortillas-
Do I know tortillas?-
He gestures, indicates the 
Flat, full moon-shaped
Circle of a torilla with his hands.
Si, I know tortillas.
What I want to know is-
What the heck do tortillas have to do
With whether you eat bread or not?
So mi primo tells me una historia
About a guy he knows,
20-something and something else...
All his family came from Guatemala;
He was brought up going to a church 
With a pastor that preached sermons
That trilled like heavenly trumpets;
He has skin that was colored warm 
As if he had grown up kissed by 
The sun of his family's homeland;
He knew how to speak English but
His mother tongue was always Spanish-
His cousins were his best friends
Because being "un Guate" means
Knowing the meaning of "la familia"...
He learned at age 21
That he was born in America.
Eagerly, he shed his Hispanicness like
A snake skin that had grown too tight,
Clutching at the revelation of his birthplace
Like a get-out-of-jail free card,
Hides the color of his face behind
The red, white, and blue of his
Irrevocable Americanness... 
He doesn't go to church anymore,
Because American guys don't 
Have time for God;
He buys big, fancy cars he doesn't have 
A prayer of paying off because
American girls are supposed to like
That kind of thing;
He tries not to remember 
The meaning of la familia...
And he always eats bread-
His tongue has suddenly turned
Too American to abide the taste,
The flatness, of las tortillas...
He is the reason that mi primo cannot 
Abide the taste of bread, too thick
With the flavor of betrayed heritage
To sit easy in his stomach...
Mi primo offers me,
His little blonde all-American cousin,
The bread he doesn't want.
I wonder if one day he'll
Mean the word "primita" enough
To offer me a tortilla.

Copyright © Cameron Hartley | Year Posted 2014

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A Forest Child

She has eyes that have seen all the sky
a smile that is both knowing and shy
Her brow is humble and also proud
Expressions as soft as a shifting cloud.

She is tall and frail like a river reed
Up until now the forest has been her creed
And words that once flowed like a river stream
Now she must search for what they mean

Where once the forest taught her each simple rule
Now she is thrust  to study in a Western school
So her body conveys her intentions devout
She stays rooted despite her desire for flight

She absorbs new knowledge like sunlight itself
Her tears are like rain on this hard gained wealth
This shy forest spirit all blossomed and grown
We know, in quiet moments, where her thoughts flown.

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

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Generic Oppression Poem

Oppressed by you, your state, your religion
So you think you good, kind and Superior
But I find you  cruel, arrogant and callous
But that is just in my view, what do I know?

You control the language that describes pain
But there is no for me in its grid, or how I feel
My soul is ripped from my body and bound,
On to your machines on which I slave and toil.

You say it has to be this way, no room for doubt
Master and slave, it is only a matter of degrees
But it is my kind that is always tied to the rack
While you sip vintage wine in the lap of luxury.

Everything has its time and its place, yours is over
End is near, for you and everything you hold dear
Everything carries with it the root of its own destruction
And I will rejoice now that your has very nearly come.

Copyright © tony northover | Year Posted 2013

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13 Original States

•	Connecticut
•	New Hampshire
•	New York
•	New Jersey
•	Massachusetts
•	Pennsylvania
•	Delaware
•	Virginia
•	North Carolina
•	South Carolina
•	Georgia
•	Rhode Island
•	Maryland


Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2014

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Beautiful land

New land with meadows, mountains and ridges,
of sandy golden beaches, waters blue,
over the bay most famous of bridges,
adventures to youthful visions, all new.
The vast land of golden soil, arched beaches,
where the rugged beuaty remains.
Thick forests as far as the eye reaches,
changing to highland, bush and treeless plains.
A virgin land for many, those with dreams,
venture to find in a culture blended,
their place amongst those entering in streams,
to live their lifes in a country splendid.

For the young and spirited to advance
in a beautiful land of vast expanse.

T.J Grén

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015

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Sleeping beauty

Locked in her tower our heroine sleeps alone
This beautiful flower has been kidnapped from her throne
She stares at the moonlight then drifts off to sleep 
To dream of a brave knight scaling the castles keep.
Her flaxen hair frames her delicate ivory skin
Vivid dreams of her hero reveal her beauty within
Steadfast and strong and ready to fight to the death
To rescue this beauty he will forgo his last breath.
Her chivalrous knight enters the abductors domain
Soon she'll taste the sweetness of freedom again.
His shield raised high and broadsword drawn
With every step he takes, for her hope is reborn
Caught off guard with a blow he is swept of his feet
He fights blindly on until his quest is complete
To vanquish the captors is his goal and last wish
Sweep the princess off her feet with a tender kiss
He slashes the ropes that bind her to the bed 
Making passionate love for hours now they are happily wed

19th May 2014
Written By Jan Allison & Darren Watson
~submitted to Dave Wood's Imagination Contest~
Awarded 1st place - am so delighted to have won this with Darren he 
is my inspiration 

Copyright © JADAZZLE UNITED | Year Posted 2014

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At Home

When I am in your home,
I am back to Laos after a lifetime.
I am in a place beyond words:

       Where the steam of the kitchen

       The smell of warm coffee

       The sound of a television

       The taste of a meal made with kindness

All feel like an America where our dreams come true,
Our memories return

And everything lost is found once more
Waiting with a smile, a sabaidee.

Copyright © Bryan Thao Worra | Year Posted 2015

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Come by the thousands

Hungry, desperate, each day

Greece's agony mounts!*


Home lost, new home found

Distant shores opening arms

Tears flooding the seas 

© Demetrios Trifiatis
   17 August 2015 

*Thousands of refugees and illegal immigrants enter Greece 
each day in search of a better future. Greece, despite its economic 
crisis and with an unemployment near 30% and salaries and pensions
 down by 40% helps the best way it can. Europe watches as more than 
two million of these unfortunate people live inside our country of ten million.

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015

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On Election night, twentysixteen
I saw a strange and surreal scene
I looked cross the great harbor at Lady Liberty that night
And I knew right away, something wasn’t right
I saw Lady Liberty and she was crying
Because the America she loved, now was dying

She once welcomed millions to this golden shore
But now they ‘re not welcome here anymore
I thought of Ellis Island, where they once came through the doors
Millions of feet crossing the Great Hall’s floors

They brought their hopes, they brought their dreams 
They brought their plans, they brought their schemes
They brought their laughter, they brought their tears
They brought their love and they brought their fears

They came with their families or came alone
Some names we know, but most unknown

They joined the huddled masses already here
The marginalized, the forgotten, the second-class tier
The wretched refuse that made this land great
Yet met with derision, scorn and hate

the First Peoples of this Mother Earth
forced off the land of their ancestors birth
forced to flee, run and hide
one step ahead of the Genocide

those that suffered from old Jim Crow
pleading for rights, met with a NO
When they were polite and asked with a Please
They were met with a Noose thrown over the trees

Many worked hard and were met with success
Their children grew up to be America’s best
Many here now forget where they came
Their immigrant ancestor, can’t remember the name
Can’t remember the ancestor that came here by boat
Can’t remember the issues or the last vote

Once we were great but that’s in the past
Don’t blame us that it didn’t last
Our country is changing from sea to sea
Too many people not like me

The only way is to take it back
go out and stop them, go on the attack
The others are the people that caused our pain
Push them all out,  again we will gain

So he vowed an America, that’s once again great
To get there, he said, America must hate
Hate those others that are not like us
Put them again on the back of the bus
America first! and thats not all
protect ourselves, lets build a wall
We can bring back the greatness of a past day
All we have to do is chant U-S-A

The lamp beside the golden door
Doesn’t seem so bright anymore

It sounds so simple, but it’s really so Grand
An idea we once used to build this land
E Pluribus Unum, Out of Many, One
An idea that that’s Sinking with the Setting Sun

By John Gordon

Copyright © John Gordon | Year Posted 2016

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At the moment
Of my restless teenage run
Your eyes emanated lights of million stars
Many times the size of our Sun.
Frenzy feeling for clinging to you, singularity.
But I was taken aback by sudden bars,
Though I could sense the gravity.
I should keep firing my rocket
Against all odds, unhoped for
Real fact was too much ferine to the prior.
I would eventually lose my goal:
That was my closest buddies'safest bet.
They described you as a black-hole,
They said, " she is not your girl."
They said, "For you, she is evil incarnate."
But, how could I ignore you,
Embodied in such amazing curve and curl?
So, before my eyes you appeared as an Event-horizon.
Yeah, it was you
My teenage beauty-paragon.
Beyond this nothing can escape
Not even light,
I kept travelling towards you,
The universe looked somewhere dim and somewhere bright.
But my clock slowed down
Now, I've to keep my feet on the ground
I feel like, a king without a crown.
To this nostalgic journey my consciousness's been bound.
For a black-hole
There's a whole universe to devour
But I'm absorbed in my amour.
       I did
  A time travel
A story of incompleteness to tell.
  But no need
I've reached a brand-new universe!
       I could never get
My first love, remains insatiate.
I've no regret, it cann't be a curse.
       I can bend
       The story is not end.
I'll not bore anyone with my reminiscence.
But, I've gathered a vast time travel experience.
Here I feel no delight, no pain,
I'm ready to fall in another love once again.

Copyright © PRITHWISH MUKHERJEE | Year Posted 2014

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Cheese monster

I remember 
dancing for joy 
Sitting on an open shelf 
This beautiful maiden 
Strolls into the shop 
As my eyes whistled 
She picked me up 

Holding me in her hands 
Smiling down at me 

Oh I love 
Words had trembling effect 
with this cheese 

Taking me home 
You took a little bite 
A little taste
Out of me 
Lips softly grin
bursts in flavour 
Almost cheesy 
Licking delicious 

Opening a door 
You placed me 
on top shelf 
Felt like royalty 
Lights out wow 

The last face 
I remembered 
Ever so beautiful 
Weeks pass 
Feeling almost 
out of date 
Left in the dark 

A smell started 
Pungent in fungus hair 
Taking over 
almost septic 
Crawling green 
in mildew 

Beautiful maiden 
Awaiting you in dreams 
You open the door 
Squealing out 
frightened in the fridge 

All I done 
was shout cheese 
Smile darling 
I am 
all yours 
Sweet love 

Thrown in a black plastic bag 
Broken hearted suffocating 
with the rubbish 

Shouting walking away 
That's me done 
With cheese 

It was so sad 
The green hairy 
old monster 
Began crying 
Now smile 
for cheese 

As you will not like 
To see the ugly side 
Of the green 
hairy old 
Cheese monster

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2013

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My imagination dipped its pen into the ink of inspiration and put on paper Muse's dictation!

© Demetrios Trifiatis
      11 August 2017

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2017

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This boat is full
a vessel overflowing
     a shoal 
in bitter mist 

Dream boy, dream—
     drab gloom
          sunlight on your husk;
     damp frazzles
          lightweight trunks
          around your gaunt calves;
     fields of algae
          spacious green meadows,
          chanting larks

You buried memories
with clawing fingers in scarred soil—
     - small hibiscus petals
     rosewater fragrance
     one rippled giggle
     tattered pink of her dress
     small scabs under band aids -
fertilized dust with saline grief

This boat is full
a vessel overflowing
darkness howls


August 8, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

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Make America White Again

"Make America White Again"
Will never make any sense
Despite the tweets of "GENIUS" Trump
Or Republicans like Pence

Brown-skinned people filled this land
From one end to the other 
And though they had their differences
"Eve" is everyone's mother

Though some are prone to cast a stone
Or ridicule their brother
What makes a nation great again
Is love for one another.

Copyright © Rico Leffanta | Year Posted 2018

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Absolute Truth, Judgment and Lies

The Damnable Sin of Self-righteousness.
All of our leaders have their different views of human rights.

Our leader has repeatedly resisted calls to assume the moral leadership that is expected from. Rage, hatred, and bigotry are spreading like a wheat field on fire. Lie after lie, has cemented like and ant hill filled with fire ants. Do we want to live in a country ruled by a ruler with total power over our country; with maybe a result of genocide in our nation? Thousands of children might now become homeless orphans.

sorrow, tide of fury grows
where are the children

His self-righteousness is destroying the future of human lives. People are out of work, which adds up to, no food on the table, no insurance for healthcare, car, or home. Not enough money to pay the house and utility bills. Will they be out on the street joining the thousands of homeless people!

When is this going to end?

I look at my hands
dark brown, green, black, red, yellow
with each heartbeat felt


Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2018

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I wish I was

I wish I was an eagle soaring

With golden wings of light

Incandescently gliding across a moonlit sky

Swooping, diving, rising upwards

Harbouring dreams of a new age

Idyllic is the beauty of the feeling of feathered games

Wondering how the eagle feels soaring high over mountain peaks

Everlasting memories is that not what we all seek

Ruminating on questions about all that eagles see

Everlasting quintessential birds flying on filigree golden wings.

Copyright © fauxcroft wade | Year Posted 2018

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England - gleaming in the distance

  across the doggerland dogged people trudge
  Neanderthals, Heidelbergers...Sapiens, the last ones standing
  hairy mammoths, heavy life bearing down
  the mighty maw of an ice wall crunches, enforcing southward retreat
  remoulding the land for the next migration
  a steady thaw reveals a white-cliffed island, gleaming in the distance

  just visible beyond the sea channel flood
  eyed by shifting continentals, dark haired folk from Iberia
  warrior tribes, an evolving Celtic realm
  chieftains exert loyalty, communal living in changing weather
  mindsets underpinned by natural rhythms
  seaways and rivers become highways, ships delivering destiny

  cohorts occupy a Britannia rump
  civilisation probing northward, agents of a Roman empire
  military encampment, governance
  settlements, forts, roads and villas, the written word, trade all ramping up
  intermingling eastern cults of deity
  christian monotheism layered over polytheistic tendencies

  defensive walls, Scotti raids from Hibernia
  piercing Picts from Caledonia, continuing mainlander incursion
  overstretched, imperial crisis impending
  imperative to save the soon to be vandalised seat of power
  leaving behind a weakened island flank
  waves of germanic tribes... Angles, Saxons and Jutes

  a name takes root, Engla Land
  a tribal ' aenglisc ' language coalescing short of Cymru and Dumnonia
  unifying strength in the face of others
  the usual raiders, now joined by vikings, yet more continentals
  christian footholds confined to the west and north
  written word disappearing, Anglo-Saxon dominion in Engla Land

  seven kingdom heptarchy...Wessex, Sussex
  Essex, Cantia, East Anglia, Mercia and Northumbria
  heart of Engla Land, this sceptred island core
  focus for missionary emissaries of Rome spreading influence
  to the pagan locus or the long way round
  through Hibernia, Dalriata, Scotti lands down to Lindesfarne

  a Danish dominated North Sea empire
  partitioning Engla Land, making war and peace, danegeld everywhere
  danelagh holding sway east of Wattling Street
  vassal kingdoms, viking strongholds from Scandinavia to Russia
  the Irish coast, Isle of Man, Scotland, and Wales
  inexorable drive of Norsemen through the Low Country to Normandy

  much machination and devious interplay
  kings, lords, bishops and monks, armies, coinage and marriage
  priesthood, sainthood and kingship intertwining
  eventual end of Danish rule, three main contenders to ascendency
  an English earl defeats a Norwegian king
  but a Norman duke wins all, succeeding to the throne of England

Copyright © Ian Love | Year Posted 2018

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Absorbing England

  the wealth of norman England is poised to grow
  towns enlarge, markets exchange, a fresh fertilising sprinkled culture
  kingdoms extend with numbers reducing
  old and new empires jostle, reshaping across continents and islands
  what of England's exploited common people ?
  thirty odd years, grinding lifespan under yoke of nature and powerful men

  some twenty-eight thousand slaves, their chains recast
  submerging in land of toil, one and a half million serfs, feudal tenure
  serving hierarchical masters and lords
  means to ends of ambitious persons, kingly and ecclesiastical
  bodies supplied for food, battle and pleasure
  social systems of necessity, fear and status, capital and labour

  promises promises, marriage, ambition
  martial opportunistic rulers from the Duchy of Normandy
  norsemen upon norsemen, top-down history
  veneer of eight thousand foreigners over anglo-saxon England
  old nobility orders quelled and subsumed
  a new imposing franko-viking and gallo-roman aristocracy

  military prowess with a pious bent
  royal administrative structures, replacement earls, abbots and bishops
  cross-channel semi-absentee supplanted rule
  building castles, installing garrisons, subduing rebellion, gaining land
  more danegeld placation, writs and charters
  latin records, elite gallo-romance... anglo-norman arising

  divine and earthly rule by monarchs supreme
  constrained by wily popes playing alternative papal legate games
  competing families claim crown succession
  the identity of England deepens, widening, diversifying
  churches built with magnificent sturdy presence
  protected forests, monastic revival, canon and common law

  high birth, elevating spires, merchants and courts
  spreading french as a second and intermediate, infiltrating language
  determining social level through schools and trade
  dynamics blending ancient germanic tongue and roman parlance
  fluidity, precision, layers of meaning
  short notes in the wind, longer softer melodies, the sounds of England

  expanding country, alert and on its toes
  conflict with royal Scotland, pushing into Wales, eventually Ireland
  acquiring half of France, managing civil war
  assertive, devious, treacherous, conniving, alliance and attack
  seeking reward, endeavour beyond the shore
  positive feedback seeping down, common people absorbing England

  foundations of a becoming English state
  will of higher authorities, church encouraging folk to bend the knee
  earthly wages, compensation in heaven
  commoner before the throne, the cross and military lordly commanders
  the trumpet of victory and time passing
  a mighty other-worldly purpose aligned with king, god and England 

Copyright © Ian Love | Year Posted 2018

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The Diamond Of Diversity

Diversity shines its light upon wisdom; it’s a sage sharing both world and eternity’s knowledge. While cultures are facet of this diamond sage; each other displays knowledge; old and new building on the eternal book of wisdom; it must not be negated. Millennia old worlds raise children of many colors, species, shapes and sizes; the gifts given to them by God are never exclusive to them but, to be shared by all. When we teach one another, our wisdom and ways, we are sharing the gifts of diversity. What humans learn and share with one another, is yet another facet but, the same holds true for diversity of species. We learn the value of play; respite from the daily grind; from cats and from dogs; even the tiny ants loyalty. The value of preparation for harder times from squirrels and that size doesn’t matter; from the elephants. Work ethic from the horses; endurance from the camels. From the trees, we learn to not stand alone; together we are much stronger, when weathering life’s storms. From the flowers, we learn of beauty and that we’re all vulnerable to loss. But, it’s the human species that’s capable of sharing the most. Human imagination, creativity, ingenuity and fortitude; ensures that we are survivors in our world. Cultural diversity enhances our lives’; it’s how we play, rest, appreciate and celebrate our very existence. It’s the magical catalyst to a potential utopia. Failure to open our eyes ears and hearts; obliterates the magic. As the beavers teach us; we must work together, to achieve that utopian end; that last facet on a perfect diamond; diversity’s light.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2018