Dubai Poems - Poems about Dubai

Native Americans call me 'Paleface' 'Roundeye' say the Chinese race to a Scot I'm a 'Sassenach' 'Boyo' to those in Wales altho' a 'Limey' in New York I answer to none such hails once a 'Gweilo' in Hong Kong Down Under was a 'Pom' you may give a dog a bad name (and/or a bone) he may even be your (best) 'Pal'...

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oh … how I’ve dreamed of you - sultry mistress to the sun's ire … dappled and coy amid the palms, a-sway your eyes of the gloaming’s vault shimmering with the Milky Way … Luna, red as rouge to blush your cheek of sacred sand - dune drifts, the waves of your golden tresses … you … a flawless gem, shimmering cut and polished with care and...

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Dubai, a marvel nestled between nature's grandeur and technological prowess, enchants with its mesmerizing beauty. Skyscrapers reach for the heavens, their sleek forms kissing the azure sky. Once tranquil fishing villages along the Arabian Gulf, now bustling hubs of life, Dubai boasts floating and soaring structures, embodying modernity's spirit. From the curved grace of the Cayan Tower...

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Dubai is not for the faint-hearted, home of the richest rich. They have outdone themselves in their hotels and buildings Fabulous home of the rich and famous, opulence rules here...

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Of course it would be the notorious Fourth of July Here I am, a tourist, wandering around completely lost in Dubai Waiting for Greek salad which I have always wanted to try Wishing my friend Duno Brown would come past, by and by. The prices of the food here are for the exclusively rich. I fit in more with...

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It's one of those bad days, don't know why Parts need replacing on the furnace, from Dubai Joking of course What could be worse Shipment's on its way arriving sometime next July...

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Dubai nights - 4.11.18 The lights glow over the horizon in a technicolour display of sparkles; a fairyland. An invitation to enter the city, reminds me home, The Arts Centre and the Westgate Bridge at night time with its twinkling Melbourne City below. Its dark, yet the lights play their part across the roof tops. The pool an iridescent blue -...

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The call to the East, a low deep murmur, a tune of sombre dulcet tones plays out - non-invasive, A surreal hum through the air as the crescent moon hangs low A spiritual beacon for the faithful, Prayers, as the day begins, a blessing for all - unknown. The gentle breeze plays its part, a welcoming coolness before the heat arrives. It's warm,...

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Seven hundred and fifty millimeters between worlds- Confined on one side, the enormity of the ocean, a contradiction to the sand on which it sits; artificiality’s extravagance encompassed in a delicate bubble. Just as its maker, Under azure of neon and amongst the life in its technicolor, diverse, rare, immigrated; Its foundation’s fluid is submerged and alloyed into into the ground that...

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I Just Stand Here alone. Factually, A feat, A pinnacle of Engineering at almost A thousand meters high, A colossus, an omnipresence Comparable to God- a man made concept advertised to exhaustion. Amongst concrete caricature cliche’d into postcards and keychains, I am The subject, the focus and distinguished character; an over- exaggerated needle in a haystack. In status of Symbol of City, I am the entirety of the City- Iron...

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* For His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum * oh … how I’ve dreamed of you - sultry mistress to the sun's ire … dappled and coy amid the palms, a-sway your eyes of the gloaming’s vault shimmering with the Milky Way … Luna, red as rouge to blush your cheek of sacred sand dune drifts, the waves of your golden tresses … you...

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I fear the city disappeared it shaped me till today. It helped me fight what I have feared and made me find my way. The music played, I still can hear, it rises and it falls. I sometimes hear the voices near lost in cities malls. You and I with youth and joy, attached to streets as such. You were just a teenage boy and you've...

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My town nicknamed, ‘Mini Dubai’, burgeoned and branched on the bank of Kanoli canal like a tamarind seed. Now the silvered canal sprawls on its death bed. Busy pedestrians walk down an ancient bridge built by the British. As the traffic light has lost its eye balls, a potbellied policeman dances and controls. Jalopies groan, and modern cars whiz. A long whistle:...

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