Best Migration Poems
She leads her army up and down,
two sides of Main Street, and is found
companioned by three basset hounds.
They follow, closely, at her heels
like foundlings gathered round
I've often wondered where she goes,
with shopping cart, and dogs in tow.
Tweed on her back, scarves on her hair,
regardless of the temperature
She never speaks, but no one cares.
with eyes like windows, dark and clear.
A friendly clerk will wave hello,
while patrons share a coin or two.
We help her fill her cart with food,
her needs are scant, her wants are few.
When spring arrives, she'll sit and rest
upon the bench, within the shade
to watch daily passing parade
She'll stay awhile, become our friend,
then disappear, as summer ends
Dark hooded eyes have not revealed,
just why she migrates, what compiles
her secret story, or where she goes.
She's a soldier of frenetic times
where clocks tick fast, and seasons change.
She holds the leash like it's her string
to keep the world within her hands
A solemn ritual, we have seen
again, again, where has she been?
And through the seasons, we have grown,
more curious, yet pleased to bend
a little more to understand
She stays until the autumn comes
But winter knows her silent song
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4/29/16
Contest: Second Place Contest
Sponsor Laura Loo
(Based on a real person that we often see on the streets of our small town)
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black
bear state
Alaska
pleasantly cool
protein rich waters, red, green, ripples
ravenous mouths salivating to feast,
hens death spawning
early May
salmon
run
Vanessa flutters by
A painted lady, a butterfly
Wispy wings a delicate design
Polka dots align her spine
Marbled brown with fringe
Warm sienna tints a tinge
Speckled black scales of fancy lace
Easy breezy full of grace
Dainty aerobat’s with olive scent
Classic angle iridescent
Painted white ink spots each wing
A sight for sore eyes in virgin spring
A fancy moth is what some say,
‘til they're taken aback by flair’s array
Milkweed flowers in her garden
Honeydew nectar a feast to regard in
A thousand miles she will fly,
against Fall's tender cool blue sky
Golden rays her solar compass,
to orient her pathways—alas
Her journey comes to an end
Up the coast where time she’ll spend
majestic motion
wingbeats glide to warmer climes ~
silver-arrowed sky
22.05.20
Nature Haiku Poetry Contest- sponsored by Regina Riddle
NO BORDERS!
NO WALL!
NO U.S.A. AT ALL!
THIS IS WHAT THE GLOBALISTS HAVE IN MIND FOR
THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
HUMAN BEINGS ARE BEING FORCED TO LEAVE THEIR NATIONS
AND MAKE THE LONG HIKE TO THE UNITED STATES.
THESE MIGRANTS ARE GIVEN AID AND MONEY ON THEIR JOURNEY.
THE UNITED STATES SOUTHERN BORDER IS BEING INFILTRATED.
WHAT IS GOING ON IS NOT RIGHT.
THE WORLD GOVERNMENT IS BEHIND THIS CHAOS AND ANARCHY.
THE UNITED NATIONS IS PUSHING THIS FORCED MIGRATION.
WE, THE CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES, NEED TO PROTECT
AND SUSTAIN OUR PRECIOUS REPUBLIC.
OUR BORDER IS BEING OVER RUN WITH MIGRANTS, VIOLENT GANGS,
DISEASE AND CHAOS.
THE UNITED STATES DOES NOT NEED TO BE A THIRD WORLD NATION.
WE AS HUMAN BEINGS HAVE NO NEED TO LIVE IN FEAR.
MOST PEOPLE DESIRE A BETTER LIFE IN THE UNITED STATES.
HOWEVER, WE NEED TO PROTECT THE UNITED STATES.
OUR BORDER IS IMPORTANT AND
YES, DIVERSITY, IS ALSO IMPORTANT.
THE UNITED STATES IS EXCEPTIONAL BECAUSE OF ITS
PRESERVATION OF FREEDOM AND INDIVIDUALITY.
LET'S KEEP THIS NATION STRONG AND UNIFIED.
THE RULE OF LAW IS IMPORTANT; LET'S PROTECT OUR BORDERS.
THE REPUBLIC OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IS NOW UNDER SIEGE.
WRITTEN BY, CHADWICK ANDREW VINCENT
MAY 2019
I left with a bag of dreams
and a heart full of hope.
The roads were wide
but none felt like home.
I spoke in borrowed voices
slept under unfamiliar skies.
Smiled through winters
that never thawed my bones.
But something kept pulling
a voice, a scent, a song.
A name I once answered to
still waiting where I belong.
Now I return, not empty
but carrying what I’ve become.
Not to start again
but to finally come home.
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You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today. - Abraham Lincoln
Silence gathers like dust
on the piano lid—unplayed songs folded
into brittle paper wings.
The hummingbird feeder hangs empty,
sunlight glinting off dried nectar.
Each day our hands relearn
the slow syntax of stiffness.
Morning pills rattle accusations
in amber bottles. Who will read
the warning labels when our eyes retreat?
Childless. No daughters to decipher
our fading ink. No sons
to steady the wobble
of ascending stairs. Lincoln’s shadow
lengthens across the porch:
Tomorrow arrives hungry.
You cannot feed it yesterday’s excuses.
We scan horizons for villages
built of shared tremors
where neighbors become
soft euphemistic nouns—caregiver, listener, stayer~
before the light fails completely.
Masai Mara Migration
When Mother Nature calls
A wildebeest then recalls
Yonder, to migrate en mass
In search of Greener Grass.
Great a Hand that beckons
Utopia is yonder he reckons
Perfect is the Clock of Time
Telling of the right clime.
Behold, the forest on horns
Jutting like stirring thorns
Lank calf on mother’s tow
Alert not to lose the cow.
Bliss is calling I can hear
Who would not brave fear
To ford the River of Death
To the calling Land of Mirth;
Survivors of the long trek
Or, Croc’ menacing wreck
And prowlers in couchant
Intend for an easy hunt....
Verdant Land that waves
Leaves on trek many graves:
To gain a thing though small
You stoop to give your all!
** An epitome of the Diaspora and Africa’s Forward March into Liberty and Economic Emancipation.
JM
04th Nov’ 2013
Despite the climate challenge with traffic congestion on the road,
there’s still a driving urge to go out and celebrate the Eucharist;
it’s a great deal of commitment to God who’s the source of life,
his language connotes an embodiment of love for our salvation.
Braving the difficulties in coping with the details of missionary life,
such as culture, language, climate, food and many others in foreign lands;
our faith gets tested, our humility gets challenged, and our identity revealed
and these comprise the foundation of being a missionary to other people.
In places where we learned to love the people of different cultures,
the need to adopt, acculturate, and realign to the mysteries of being a migrant,
continues to witness the movements and other signs of the times;
a world replete with endless search drawn from different human experiences.
It’s pretty common as a pervading theme across the passages in the bible;
the word migration that has a powerful connotation and rich in literature,
oh, as the holy scriptures say: “you shall not oppress an alien; you well know
how it feels to be an alien, since you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.”
The advent of a wide range of issues about the struggles in today’s migration,
with varying reactions characterized by principles, ethnic and religious devotion;
a certain perspective is formed according to Christian beliefs and aspirations
that migrants no matter who they are, deserve respect and societal insertion.
Lured by the promise of work and better opportunities that await somewhere,
people across the globe try their luck and take the risk to cross the land,
it’s viewed with deeper reflections like those of mostly Catholic Irish who came by,
their large influx in this country of America during the height of potato blight.
True to form, this parallels the new waves of Hispanic immigration
along with Asians, Africans, and other migrant groups with their history and cultures
truly, it’s a cycle that brings out the commonality of human quest and ambition;
with assimilation and determination to maintain and improve their life situations.
You come like a song on the breeze
Unique notes gliding in harmony
Unison perfected with such ease
Dancing to your own melody
I stand in awe of your grace
This composed whirlwind of flight
Round and round, tips interlocked as fine lace
Pearls, strung against blue skies - white
Among auburn sunset painted and living
You settle, gathered clouds floating
On a ribbon of river so blue
Challenging morning skies lovely hew
Rest now under stars blanket of light
Dream as I, of another day
For tomorrow nature claims her right
To continue her arial ballet
Calling, morning's golden rays crest and tease
You leave like a song on the breeze
©Donna Jones
do or die migration
Every one see that sea
From North Africa
Close to Europe
Every one see that sea
Close to Australia
Ever one see the little boat
Jam parked like a can of sadden
Full of people called immigrant
Where are they from ????????
Do or die migration
Let see if we know this people
Just like a reality tale
In some places
Are set of people living like
They got no help nor care
Like a hell on earth
This people have a government
This people have leaders
Hello does this ring a bell
Yet the fire of poverty keep
Burning
So frustration drive them to
The little boat jam park of sadden
Where and what is this place
Called ????????
Do or die migration
Let see if we know this place
This place this immigrant comes from
In some parts of this world
An empire show the power from
Above
In trying to create their identity
They devalue human
Devour innocent souls
The survivor now try's to migrate
Rushing to the little boat
Jam park like a sadden
What part of the world are they
From ????????
Do or die migration
I know every big shark
Will love to live in this
Part if the sea
Where day by day
Night by night
Souls drawn while
On a journey of survival
On a run to safety
What can make a human
Take this risk
Leaves me with a ???????
Question mark
Note
With a humble heart I dedicate this
Poem to the souls lost on the sea while trying to migrate to the land of safety mostly to my lost friend from Nigeria wale tunde!
through clouds burning gold
move masses of water fowl
arrows pointing south
twilight reflections
of brilliant crimson on blue
shadows in dark skies
cooling breeze whispers
as birds fly and summer skies
fall into Autumn
08/24/15
The Great Migration
Millions of shoeless feet stomping across Europe
an unstoppable horde of the rootless and hungry
humanity mostly from Africa.
the human wave is a tsunami no wall however
tall can withstand it and Europe will change from
white to brown and there will be a synthesis of
cultures both exciting and frightening.
Great books will be written by those not yet born but
will represent the new Europe and make sense of it.
I will not be there, but I think Europe will prevail.
When only snow is white the new people will overcome
the barriers of the race purists who tried to stop them
shades of gray journey
aspiration food- nesting
recurring winter
1/23/2017
- A Love Story -
*Unpredictable enigma with a pony tail of willows
**An exiled from deserts by the Despotic Thirst
***Deadly in her games yet playing with prisms
****Humans longing, chanting, reciting her name...
*****I am still her lover - wandering man who can't cry
******She sneaked in my heart and stole all my tears
********My ship has her name engraved by a thunder
*********I' m the eternal migrant looking for... RAIN...
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iolanda scripca