Best Relocated Poems


A Landscape of Her Own

After the funeral,
the town changed its street maps,
old houses were relocated. new shops opened
in long emptied malls.

They had never shared their likes or interests,
they had not even shared an equitable life;
now she understood the changing landscape.

Before his death, the town was seen
through his own lens only;
he was ever determined
to shape her view, make her see things his way.

After this post-mortem revelation,
She recalibrated her car’s GPS:
It takes her now
to the as yet
unseen.
Categories: relocated, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Sea of Dreams

The skies become loud and dark
Raining bombs upon us
May god protect the civilians
Take away the rest in rivers red
Let the devils blood flow far from us

We stare always to the skies
Our own tears falling
Thus we created our own sea of dreams
Here inside our prison city
Laughter is hidden underneath the bed


My pink lip stick and smile
I have only hope to eat
I have only the future to grasp
Because my death shall soon come to be
Death for forgetting the past

All we could do, living in daily fear
Is swim in our sea of dreams
Only to be drowned with our own blood
Here is my Photo, here is my dream
I lie dead, my dream I leave to you



Dedicated to Nisan Ibrahim who reported and wrote under the alias Ruqia Hassan.
She lived in the city of Raqqa in Iraq and was killed by Daesh around July 2015.
Hassan came from a Kurdish family that was originally from the town of Kobane, Syria, on the Turkish border. The family had at some date relocated to Raqqa. 

She was never to find that rest and peace. Maybe she didn't expect to. She wrote the same day: "Our biggest mistake was to swim in a sea of dreams... and we dreamt of the next phase and ignored the current phase... we look at the future and forgot the past... #a mistake we regret."
Categories: relocated, angel, appreciation, arabic, beauty,
Form: Verse

Caliber

CALIBER

The mental quality of spirits is unveiled.
Anne saw them in imagery.
They were in small shapes as a displayed mural.
A bust of lives demised with estate being conveyed as an inhabitant or the occupier.
Their capacity was that of full animation and stream.
Anne watched the mystical images that were once all men.
Their colors came as black, white, and olive.

Attuned to their surroundings, they did not alter their position on the wall.
They desire was to rectify a wrong.
Calibers are competent to their form in which Anne was not afraid of being forewarned.

Anne began to name them the ones that she saw.
The black one was called Magic because he was the leader of them all.
There were two level of white men seated by rows.
Anne named them Parchment because of their lab coats.
The olive one was called Mixed-Blood.

Stature they formed with ability to construct.
The degree of their mental capacity paraded the capability of the physical you being possessed.
Might they enter via an oval of the body?
They haunted this house to influence cognizance.
Anne’s knowledge is such that she may not be aware of their existence from where they exist.
Ignorance is the perception Anne lived in.

Anne and her family moved from this house in her seventh year.
She saw their presence first when she was four.
Once Anne and her family left, she did not see them anymore.

Anne moved on Briesch when she was an infant.
She never spoke of what she saw until she relocated.
Anne’s mother stated that a veil was over her eyes, a pall of despair trying to develop premonition.

Caliber is a degree of mental capacity or moral quality.
Anne cultivated this identity.
_________________________________________|
Penned February 17, 2014!
For Anne Currin Contest Any Poem/Any Subject!
Categories: relocated, character, courage, education, emotions,
Form: Prose Poetry

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Quiet Please

Quiet Please                                                                                                                                                            

I was born and grew up on the relatively quiet side of the planet.                                   Nevertheless, there was a train line right through the heart of town.
And there were also cotton gins, tractors, and lots of farm machinery.
Obviously, we were not exactly 'noise free'; but basically, the noise I heard most were an occasional barking dog, crickets, bull frogs, and rooster crows.

After high school, I relocated to a very large northern city by a great lake.               Suddenly, all my familiar noises of crickets, frogs, and roosters were gone.         
Without warning, the sounds of combines and crop dusting planes disappeared                                       They were replaced by commuter buses, automobile horns, sirens, and garbage trucks.                

In my late 20's, I moved again to a large western city by the Bay and the Pacific. There, for 30 days, my family and I resided in a motel embraced by a street car rail line.  Also there, we were annoyed by rap and rock from loud radios, and more  sirens.  But also there, we slept sweetly by the ocean waves and fog horns; gentler noises.
03082017 PS Contest, The Noises, Shadow Hamilton
Categories: relocated, anxiety, change, family, journey,
Form: Narrative

Another Broken Family

They had to tear down the building
They were cookin up the meth
They had to relocated the children
What a damn shame that it is.

They had to take the adults
down to the county jail
they had to take all the children
To a cps kind of hell

Another broken family
Another broken life
Damn I hate this broken world
I wish we could do right

They had a bad deal go wrong
a bad drug deal four people gone
hear the shots come through the walls
and blood everywhere down the halls

they had a drug overdose in the complex
too much herion and too much meth
too many thugs rollin drugs for sale
and it leads to so many deaths
Categories: relocated, abuse, grief, sick, drug,
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Seventy-Sixers

When Philadelphians wanted to see a basketball game,
the “Warriors” was their first team’s name.
They had several players achieving great fame.
Familiar names included Joe Fulks and Paul Arizin.
They were joined by Tom Gola and Wilt Chamberlain.
However, it was in the year of 1962
when the NBA franchise packed up and bid adieu.
The only professional team Philadelphia would know,
moved their operations to San Francisco.

Therefore, Philadelphia was without a team for a year.
However, the Syracuse Nationals relocated here.
In the City of Brotherly Love, they took a new name.
The “Seventy-Sixers” were now playing the game.
They traded to bring Wilt Chamberlain back.
The offense sported a formidable attack.
Among the big names that were playing here,
were Chet Walker, Luke Jackson, and Hal Greer.
The city’s basketball fans were in seventh heaven
when their team became world champions in 1967.
Categories: relocated, history, sports, basketball,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member I Am Corruption

I am corruption
A citizen of all Nations
The UN calls me complex social, cultural and economic phenomenon
Nevertheless, I do not mind
Countries of the world detest me publicly
However, they romance me secretly
So I relocated to Africa
To become a citizen of many African countries
Where I thrive with impunity
I am embezzlement of public fund
I am the looting of public treasury
I am economic crimes
I am bribery and receipt of illegal proceeds
Some call me theft and privatization of public resources
While others shamelessly refer to me as extortion, clientelism and patronage
However, I do not care about that
I manifest myself boldly as illegal appropriation or forgery and falsification
I am also blessed with quadruplets: abuse of state funds, waste, nepotism and favoritism
To maintain my citizenship I employ abuse of power(intimidation) and election falsification
I steal the continent’s wealth and fritter it to foreign countries
I live in slums of Africa
I live in cities of Africa
I am as ubiquitous as I am powerful
I have caused so much pain to Africa
I am the most powerful agent of African impoverishment
As you fight against me
I fight back with venom
Most African leaders love me so much
They cannot do without me
All religions worship me
The military is powerless before me
I hold the Executive to ransom
The Judiciary is my familiar abode
I am the permanent occupant of the Legislature
In me, there is no separation of power
I corrupt independently and collectively
I am a citizen in whom most African leaders are well pleased
As you can see I am well entrenched in my adopted continent
To eliminate me requires efforts
To diminish me is herculean
To tolerate me is dangerous
However I must die so that Africa can live!
Categories: relocated, africa, anger, corruption, evil,
Form: Free verse

Robert Frost

Born on March 26th 1874 in San Francisco
Where the streets are filled with dining alfresco 
At age eleven his father passed 
Then relocated to Lawrence Mass.
From the hills and the pastures blowing free
His words ran so deep and scrupulously dreamy
In the 1900’s he began forward to Derry New Hampshire
Where the broken apple limbs made fair bushfire
 Sweet fields swayed and the autumn sighed
Robert was devoted to nature and the great outside 
Blooming vivid colors in the musty breeze
Burnt amber firewood rests in columns and is seized 
Frozen grounds and lanterns aglow
Heaps of clad earth dancing around the spruce in a row
Where impulsive minds were left to wander 
A glorious view of the silvery birch around yonder
There a hunger grew like no other, and emerged 
In the myths of his seclusion inspiration ran with an urge
So there he traveled the courses
On posed dapple-grey horses 
Spent time in his teaching
Always in hopes of reaching
Though suffered many a personal tragedy in succession 
He later settled in Ripton Vermont and continued his profession 
Frost received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry four times in his life 
Having succeeding many children and a wife 
Robert Frost died on January 29, 1963, having had four children
And six grandchildren, and eleven great-grandchildren
He is and will always be regarded a master-poet and writer 
Leaving piles of verse for all to read thus making life brighter
Categories: relocated, dedication, history, on writing
Form: Narrative

Ma,Am

Ma’am
By
Jude Kyrie

I remember the first time I met her
It was at the orphanage.
I was going through rehabilitation
after running away for what
turned out to be last of many times
I was a lifer.
Who wants to adopts fourteen
year old boys?
Apparently no one.

She was assigned as my counselor
I don't think I have
ever seen anyone as beautiful as her.
That lovely angelic face.
Oh! her smile,
it was like sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind
Her heart was full of kindness
I was hooked.

I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend I had.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
That confusing rite of passage
from Boyhood to Manhood
left me dazed and confused.
Or perhaps I just needed
someone to love.

I have never seen
as much kindness
before or since.
It flowed from her
like honey.

She stopped me
from running away again,
and taught me
how to read books
great books
by important authors.

To learn poetry
and to talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew
for sure I loved her.
She took me to
the mission where
the homeless lived
and we served
in the free kitchen.
I would have followed
her to the moon
or anywhere.

She was relocated
after a couple of years.
To a mission in Africa.
I was desolate
Begging to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.

But she explained gently
to my young heart
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.
She whispered see
I am a bride of Christ.

She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming
It was a bout of malaria
that took her.

Now when I feel
alone or sad.
I open an old shoe box
that I kept from
the orphanage
And I re-read her
stacks of letters.

one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again.
© Jude Kyrie  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: relocated, beautiful, best friend, blessing,
Form: Free verse

The House That Jack Built 3

The House That Jack Built 3
Frequently we youngest four gathered bottles that were strewn in ditches,
 And along the railroad track,
Then glide our feet over well-worn steel rails on the journey back.
 We'd exchange empties for jaw-breakers and bubble-gum at Rose’s General Store,
 And whenever I agreed to sing them a song,
 We’d be given ice-cream cones for the deed that was far from a chore.
 On the way home we’d pluck dandelions, buttercups, and daisies,
 To present Ma with a colorful bouquet,
 I’d add to it a rose or two if a certain neighbor was away.
 If walls of home had open eyes and listening ears of course they’d witness and hear,
 The muttered complaints and landing though faint of many a fallen tear.
 Still, there was no television to carry us to places no child should go,
 No boob-tube attempting to make us believe in all that just wasn't so.
 We’d no telephone enslaving us in idle prattle-prat,
 There was no couch-potatoing, no pigging out and getting fat.
 We weren’t saints and some of our shenanigans surely caused the structure to tilt,
 Yet we somehow felt all safe and secure in The House They Say Jack Built.
 Then one day city slickers arrived at our door,
 Said soon we would be living in Farran's Point no more,
 The house where Ma had birthed nine,
 Our Haven of Liberty that rested amid Willow, Maple and Pine,
 Was part of some Seaway Power Project and Jack's House would be torn down,
 And we were forced to relocate , to leave our delightful riverside town.
 Gone would be the tall, proud trees, wild berries , rolling hills, winding creek and close friend,
 Gone the canal that ships sailed through never would I cheerfully view again.
 Gone the long tall grass we'd run through barefoot ,
 After a swim in the River we cherished dear,
 Gone the smiles from the faces of the Lost Villagers as eyes tried to hold back each tear. 

 by Joan Donnelly Ellis

Note: Farran's Point Ontario, Canada  was a small riverside village. It was one of nine villages relocated before USA & Canada flooded the area in 1958 (St. Lawrence Seaway Power Project)
Categories: relocated, growing up, home, memory,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Justice In America

Justice In America 
    by Edmund Siejka                                                                                                                                     

Sam, the lawyer
Needed a real job
Short on cash
And unable to find work
He did what he knew best
He sued the government.

The job he wanted
Held promises of security and a steady check
But it required knowledge of government regulations 
And fluency in Spanish
Sam had neither.

Much to his dismay
He was not selected for the job
Infuriated 
Sam filed a request for a hearing.

Over his strenuous objections 
An Administrative Law Judge 
Found that Sam did not have the combination of specialized experience
To help him do the job well
And denied his claim.

Brooding over a long, cold winter 
Sam decided on a plan
In early Spring
He filed an appeal before the full Commission 
Complaining that the Agency’s reason for not selecting him
Was merely a pretext for discrimination.

Sam further argued that he could have easily learned how to perform the job  
Because his was an attorney 
With credentials clearly superior to the other candidates. 

In a rather short three page decision
The Commission
Concluded that Sam’s legal education was not so exceptional  
As to undermine the Agency’s decision not to hire him.

Recognizing that discretion was the better part of valor
And realizing that his money was better spent 
On the basic necessities of life
Sam left the State of New York
And relocated to Florida
Where he now sells used cars
To elderly widows.
Categories: relocated, life,
Form: Narrative

Shining City On a Hill

Republicans keep talking about a Shining City on a Hill, 

Problem is to get in you need a Million Dollar bill, 

They kicked out all the Middle Class and Poor people from the area, and relocated them to a Landfill, 

While everybody,s starving, they up there cooking filet-mignon on the grill, 

wondering what all the fuss is about a little old BP oil spill, 

Excuse me for not enjoying the sight of their Metropolis glowing in the Night!,

 I,m locked out the gate, 

Struggling to survive daily, seems my fate, 

and to top it all off, They do not care of my plight 

and it,s my taxes

 that,s paying for all that Goddamned Light!!!!
Categories: relocated, funny, political, satire, social,
Form:

A Glasgow Blow-Up

Six blocks of flats were detonated yesterday in Glasgow, 
But only four fell down and tumbled to the ground:
The Red Road tower blocks, once the tallest in Europe,
Were the place where 5000 lived without a sound. 

Five were to be demolished as part of the Opening Ceremony, 
Of the 2014 Commonwealth Games, 
But the real living worth and sentimental value of the homes, 
Prevented the Council from airing their redevelopment aims. 
 
The Glasgow Housing Association had to be sensitive, 
To what the development and building of new flats meant, 
That many would have to be evicted and relocated, 
From the homes in which they relaxed and dreamt. 

So now, in October 2015, the Association cleared the area, 
For a more private demolition to take place without television, 
But only two-thirds of the job was done as two flats still teetered,
So there’s an independent review with a look rather beleaguered.    


12th of October 2015

See Scotsman news article 
http://www.scotsman.com/news/scotland/top-stories/red-road-flats-2-500-return-home-after-failed-demolition-1-3913725#axzz3oLT4Dlw1
Categories: relocated, community, home, house, life,
Form: Rhyme

The Hunt Not For Contest

Our guns were pregnant with bullet
Bullet pregnant with desire to eat bush meat
Our hunting dogs roamed up and down
Pregnant with desire to eat bush meat

We went as a group we were three and a half
Three strong men and me the half
I handed a cutlass and a bag
What need of me, but with them I did surf

I was so small then
At times, me, they did shun
But many a day the oldest of them said
the boy be shunned none

After a long walk we reached a fearful bush
Our hunting dogs soon spread, a marathon in the bush
What animal caused this run? None knew
But sure, our hunting dogs were smart, no trash

In a farther distance the bush was shaking
We crouched with gun poised; it is coming
Appeared dogs chasing a beaver; hissss
Bellow expectation, well, after its, our legs was running

Run and run and run, the beaver was stubborn
Our bones were weary, the beaver was stubborn
It went into a hole; we dug and dug and dug
For the day, all efforts were barren

Our hearts wore agbada of gloom
Our mouths said no world nor hum
The audience birds gave a mockery smile
As we made our way back home

In a farther distance along the way
We were almost reached home, our stay
Appeared a gad grasscutter
With fury all hunters gave it a slay

Easier to kill beneath our full force for 
Killing; then, downed to us the work of the creator
Achieving a goal is not by one's ability
We went off, the days joy was sure


This was a real life story. It happened when we first relocated to our house in Ifeoluwa Fiwasaye area. The area was busy then, and hardly a complete building in our surroundings. For we, my parents were first to build house there.
Six months after, we had a companion, but the people in the house were hunters. So I did follow them.
Our effort on that day was immense to somewhat, we hardly walked home. However.... 

Agbada is big cloth, commonly wear during occasion. It is a Yoruba word.
Categories: relocated, addiction,
Form: Rubaiyat

Premium Member Feral Cat Options

CE - Capture/Exterminate
Not only is this inhumane, it doesn't work at any rate.
A "vacuum effect" is all that will create,
vacuuming outside ferals into a territory already great
for food, shelter and to repopulate.
Within a few months the very same problem you'll have to face.

CR - Capture/Relocate
Again, the "vacuum effect" is all that will create.
Outside ferals will move in after the others relocate.
Relocated ferals often live harsher lives before dying a harsh fate.
It doesn't work, and again is very inhumane at any rate.

TNR - Trap/Neuter/Return
The most humane and most effective solution,
for maintaining and controlling feral cat overpopulation.
A surgically fixed and healthy feral cat colony,
is beneficial to any and every human community.
They'll keep outside intact feral cats out of "their" territory.
Fights for mating rites will greatly decrease,
no more unwanted litters of kittens being born regularly,
all while keeping our community vermin free.
TNR feral cats provide a service for our community,
and in return all they ask from anybody, 
is that we make their lives as comfortable as can possibly be.

There Is Only One
true feral cat option.
Categories: relocated, cat,
Form: Rhyme
Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter