Emigrate Poems | Examples

Mind The Gap

One woman's glass ceiling is another man's wood floor
but there's no such thing for a second-class citizen
of a third world country
as
there's no moving up gender is against her
sexual orientation too considered 'half a witness'
in testimony
with
neither voice nor choice can't vote
or
leave home alone
unless
with consent
can't emigrate (passport permission required)
and
as for caste if she were a Dalit
(lowest of the low)
there's nowhere to go
so
between me and you, flee, be a refugee,
what's a poor girl to do?

My Brother's Book

My brother’s book deserves a look
And not just for the time it took,
But for the family tree he shook
To show the need to strive.

His characters are loosely based
On relatives whose lives he traced
From foreign lands ‘til they embraced
New homes when they’d arrive.

The story’s universal, though,
For as they settle and they grow,
We realize how much we don’t know
Of how they did survive.

Most families who did emigrate
Shared hardships and the hand of fate
And often, we learn much too late
What pushed or helped them thrive.

My brother’s book may bring acclaim
And might or might not garner fame,
But if you read From Where We Came*,
His story stays alive.

by Burt Rashbaum

Basel

I am walking around Basel
The city not the herb
I’m not doing a Basel
Because Basel is not a verb

The streets spew tongue twisters
From mouths of many shapes
Beautiful river vistas
With succulent seedless grapes.

In a few hours I wish to emigrate
Set up my life in this efficient city
After a while I understand
It’s not that good, it’s a pity

I’m leaving this multi-lingual haven
Flying to a single language home
knowing the food in the railway station
will satisfy the fussiest gastronome.

David Cox 24/07/24

Old Grand Ewe

Behold sequestered by the sea,
not whale, nor seal, nor small sand-flea.

This is the face of old grand Ewe,
whom from the cliffs, has come to view.

Though slit-eyed stare, gazes at the ocean,
watching it move in glorious motion.

And then slowly moves across the land,
as trotters deep in arduous sand.

But none the less, the ewe finds the rock,
somewhere steady, to rest her flock.

And signals up with baas of glee,
as sheep come down, all primed for tea.

Yet when the waves do come to shore,
Ewe is perplexed by fish galore.

It flaps its tail, and moves its fin,
yet gasps for air with frightful grin!

For no chud nor chard to eat but bark,
blown in from prior stormy dark.

Ewe signals to the nearby scene,
and struts upon its golfing green.

And takes a bite and likes the taste,
and soon the whole flock emigrate.

Yet by the morn, when putters come,
the grass is gone, all in Ewe's tum.

And so sequestered by put and club,
Ewe takes her flock all way back up.

To grassy cliff, to rocky hills,
away from modern-day, beach side thrills.

But never will the Ewe forget,
The escapade, with no regret.


03.17.2024

DD Sheehan

Raised in North Cork
A man who received widespread adulation
It’s D.D Sheehan, B.L
Of the Irish Land & Labour Association

A poet and wordsmith
Who build the branch network from scratch
To protect those tenants burnt out
From cottages of thatch

Charles Tanner’s death
Left a hole in Mid-Cork
Then up stepped D.D
Which gave political breadth

One great achievement
Was the Act of 1911
Model homes around Blarney
Brought workers closer to heaven

For Home Rule, he tried
To give the poor Irish their governance
Despite a role in the Great War
He found that the Crown had defied

Off to South England he went
To re-assess his fate
A forerunner to Attlee he served
Worthwhile to emigrate?

Autumnal Angst

autumn's palette colours fauna and flora - amber and brown shades spread

golden flames too timid to enkindle - last rose turns rusty from red

tears of mercy bleed from heaven's garden - dewdrops drip on naked thorns

clouds compose in charcoal clumps of miserable gloom - chill in the air

in the silence of mute birds - flock of feathers emigrate - meadows sleep 

moon shivers in lonesome polluted horizons - darkness veils daylight

morning frost shrouds evergreen foliage - icicles and iced cobwebs

inhale arctic zephyrs from blustery breeze - breathe out white bitter breaths

gently nature expires leaving a trail of decay - kingdom of death

When I Am Young, I Shall Stick Out My Tongue Once Again

When I am young
     I shall stick out my tongue
   Stick out my tongue once again ...

   When I am ten
     I shall teach Zen
   Now and then  

   When I am eight
     I shall emigrate
   At eight, just you wait

   When I am six
     I'll use chopsticks
   Just for kicks

   When I am four
     I'll own a Labrador      
   Who eats off our floor

   When I am two
     I'll master kung fu
   When I am but two

   When I am young
     I shall stick out my tongue
   Stick out my tongue once again ...

The Failed Revolution

The failed Revolution

In my childhood´s town, there was a blue neon sign
On top of a five-level building, “Jesus Saves”.
I asked my mother what “saves mean.
Souls, she said without looking up as she was reading
the communist manifesto dreamed of the day when workers would take over the factories
and throw the obese capitalists into prison.
She tried to emigrate to the Soviet Union. but she was turned down
she had no skills other than putting sardines into tins.
Mother made gruel that day, and I was allowed to scrape the brown sticky residue in the pot.
A famous over-rich capitalist sits in jail in Siberia
He has the internet and can talk to his friends. I wonder what
my mother would have thought of this.
He had been found guilty of stealing his oil
to avoid taxation. 
No, not, the revolution mother was dreaming of.

Nomadic Indians

People are becoming a tribe of nomadic
Who emigrate and become fanatic,
Hoping they will get a peaceful haven,
They have become completely raven,

Wishing for a cozy Lifestyle and future,
And a mere supreme and good exposure,
Which is quite subtle and miniature,
They forgot their own great culture,

The people go through the immigration,
Either for job, business or education
Hope they foresee the goodness of our nation
And make this their lifelong destination.

The Magician and the Mermaid

We approach boundaries of reality,
Where illusion and fantasy often reside.
When the mind seeks to vacation,
Testing the waters, and sometimes hide.

These borders can be open, or seldom
Seen, by those needing to emigrate.
While crossing may encounter new citizens,
Some to love, yet some to hate.

These lands may appear wasted,
Like vast deserts, without water or mirage.
Only to bring along new visions . . .
Those dreams of magic to massage.

Every Four Years Or So

My wife is unhappy
  What did I do
Nothing, my darling
  It's not about you

But dear, you're so sad
  It eats away at me
I like seeing you glad
  It's how you should be

Oh, Freedom just died here
  And that's why I came
If I'd have foreseen Joe Biden
  I'd have stayed in Ukraine

Gosh dear, this perhaps sounds cliched:
  'Cos things may look bleak today
But Biden won't always get his way
  It won't be all black and white
    There'll be shades of gray

Darling, you really don't get it
  Ruin the USA is what socialism will do
Just wait 'til Comrades Biden and Harris
  Start to tighten the screws

    ... Stone Cold Silence ...

What can I say, honey
  You know better than me
Better pack your bags and emigrate
  Democracy's too messy for you, I see

Land of Opportunity

I take my hat off for the flag
  I stand up straight; let others sag
I get all weepy for Old Glory
  thinking of my family's story

They came from Russia with naught but hope
  with just their wits to help them cope
No language skills or education either
  Money or living quarters, they had neither

But they scraped and scrimped, and just kept going
  Gramps peddled junk, grams did the sewing
And with the help of God, it all worked out
  Hard work and faith -- their kids did sprout

My father an attorney, my uncle a physician
  All due to gram and gramps' prescient intuition
To emigrate alone, part of no community
  to an unknown land of opportunity

Morning Meditation

Here at the coffee shop 
I discuss capitalism vs. socialism with the young barista 
I don't want to get shot for writing a poem 
So I do not intend to emigrate to North Korea anytime soon 
Have not travelled much as I would like to 
But I have been to Israel where they just had a bruising election 
which the USA will have soon 
Poetry is much nicer than politics - for the most aprt 
Old Abe Lincoln wrote verse as did Eugene Mc Carthy 
Maybe we of the "soup" should form a politcal party 
our platform will be more readings for all 
Peace. power and love 
shoudl be our slogan!!

Gangsters Paradise

GANGSTERS PARADISE

South Africa has a high rate of crime, anything is probable,
Keeping out determined criminals is impossible!
This is the house that my parents built 40 years ago that we 
We live in,
This is the house that we built a palisade fence around that
We live in,
This is the electric fence on top of the palisade fence of the house
That we live in,
This is the remote to get into the property of the house 
That we live in	
This is the security gate in front of the door of the house that
We live in	
This is the thick wooden door with two dead locks in the house
That we live in
When it gets dark, we activate our CCTV 16 camera system in the
House, that we live in.
Finally when we go to bed, we lock two inside security gates, cutting off the  
Sleeping area, from the rest of the house that we live in.
Many South Africans have emigrated
To Australia, America, New Zealand,
Japan, Europe and even Thailand
Only then, to have to face a terrorist attack,
Tsunamis, Earthquakes, or a stab in the back!

Good Girl Bad Girl

I saw you like a wax to constantly melt. 
They told you, you're bad
Because you got the only man, 
you wanted whole heartedly. 
They just told you, '*****'. 
Actually, they wanted  
a strong touch of your blue vein. 

I saw you constantly flowing
like the solitary river, Tungabhadra
They told you, 'emigrate'. 
Because you heard a single man
continuously ... Byron, Shelly, 
Keats and Wordsworth. 
In fact, they wanted to feel
the glory of the western love. 

I saw you like a disobedient
distracted in an untimely rain. 
Yes, you did a wrong job, 
You believed in a traitor for a long time. 
Those who says, you are bad, 
they don't know that love is belief. 
They don't know that up to the horizon, 
you are the one good girl.

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