A tattoo that may have been from youth
Could be of a religious reference too
How horrific it would feel you would be blue
Torn from your life family country rights refused
Some may accuse you of being in a gang
Yet KKK and Proud Boys are the very same
Not any of them are arrested put in chains
Double standards are free falling like rain
Categories:
deportation, abuse, america, angst, anti
Form: Rhyme
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Keeps me focused
Keeps me grounded
Keeps me present
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Takes me farther and farther away
From everything I have ever known
Chained up like a worthless dog
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Reminds me that rebellion
Always comes at a price
You just have to decide if it’s worth the prize
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Tells me that my fight is far from over
The war not nearly won
Whether I’m protesting from my backyard or someone else’s overseas
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Fills my heart with pity
Pity for a society
Too at peace with being alive but not really living
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Makes my whole body tingle
My life sentence stinging and burning
As we near my new home
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Makes me hope
That the words scribbled on my torso
Inspire others to likewise pick up their pens
I am told it is mightier than the sword
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Places courage in my veins
A man who has lost his freedom
Has no more to lose than himself
The sound of wheels on murram
Tells me we've arrived
Categories:
deportation, longing, symbolism, war,
Form: Free verse
There is no scale that can weigh the power of hope
Winter ICE riding an Alberta Clipper from the new northern state down to the Gulf of America
A Brown wave
No time for Brown waves good bye
A brown wave
Sky ships set sail
Rouge cargo
Stripped, strapped, secure
Refugee - no refuge - Refugee
Loose dirt plowed
Roots shifted, strained
Lumps gathered
Tear watered seeds sewn
In Brown soil that hope
might sprout like a tree
Sky ship sets sail
Bounded cargo
Refugee - no refuge - Refugee
Categories:
deportation, america, angst, betrayal, conflict,
Form: Free verse
Deportation,,,,,,,
A friend or might there be other!
The voice of idea....
Leaving like there is no other
...,. thus-
necessitating numeration
...........in contemplation......... And in fact!
----------
For the sake of mankind.......
Deported to his own resignation
of thoughts' and dreams' and numerated
by deliberation deported by its own id'
Gf
Gary Fields
Poet, author
Categories:
deportation, allusion, anti bullying, birthday,
Form: Bio
.
y'all gotta use
thuh back door
yeah
eve'z been wit me
from
thuh begin'nin
*begin'nin iz my portmanteau;
"first lady" ')
Categories:
deportation, beautiful, character, conflict,
Form: Carpe Diem
the man across the street
walks tenderly
on hallowed soil
he can’t believe
has space
for him.
Every day
the man across the street
dusts off his two dark gray
top-of-the-line-electric-SUVs,
backs them in and out
of his driveway
each day.
Careful be
the man across the street
to always check
with care the behind
fearful he be that
Life the Trickster
lurks in his shadow
in his blind spot
plotting to turn off the lights
on his dream
of living on free soil.
Fearful be
the man across the street
one day he will awaken
sightless impotent
stranded on a defiled
soil of no hope
Spun out and out of gas
back in those shadowed days,
back to where he was before.
Fearful be
the man across the street,
one day he’ll open his eyes
only to find
His cars were but a dream
that he really wasn’t
the man across the street.
Categories:
deportation, fear, immigration,
Form: Free verse
Ahead of pain, we did not cry;
intimating of dreams, crowded;
stranded on issues, reaching nowhere.
Black, a weired hairdo, unfurls a moon
in half-sleep. You can open the door
without sound. The snake writhes under your feet.
A traveler waits for a hymn, holds a green
urn, full of tiny eyes, looks at sky and returns
the darkness for any possibility of light.
The missile whistles down; hushed, gnarled
fingers start the rescue efforts in a lonely
cosmos; goldilocks starts howling.
Terror strikes again in offering, so far
about nothingness; a vague, masked scapegoat
sits in bold greens, to start the beginning of end.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
deportation, art,
Form: ABC
Ahead of pain, we did not cry;
intimating of dreams, crowded;
stranded on issues, reaching nowhere.
Black, a weired hairdo, unfurls a moon
in half-sleep. You can open the door
without sound. The snake writhes under your feet.
A traveler waits for a hymn, holds a green
urn, full of tiny eyes, looks at sky and returns
the darkness for any possibility of light.
The missile whistles down; hushed, gnarled
fingers start the rescue efforts in a lonely
cosmos; goldilocks starts howling.
Terror strikes again in offering, so far
about nothingness; a vague, masked scapegoat
sits in bold greens, to start the beginning of end.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
deportation, art
Form: I do not know?
George's isn't too bad
At least not so far
I like it here better than Campion
And it's much better by far
The only thing missing
Are the extras and the girls
Only tough ones from Alpha
Dare venture into this world
The school is also boring
Because it has no Interact
But becuase there are no girls
Starting one won't change that
I've seen Sophia once
In the back of a grey car
She's become such a skettel
Not even desperate men want her
There's this mongrel indian
Who called her a skettel bam
She says she doesn't know him
I think it was a one-night slam
Categories:
deportation, people, school, teen,
Form: I do not know?