Expatriate Poems - Poems about Expatriate

Voyage

Quote: "“They have no idea what it is like to lose home at the risk of never finding home again, have your entire life split between two lands and become the bridge between two countries.” –unknown
 
Amidst the whispers of the waves, I sail,
An expatriate adrift in memories pale.
Through years that roll like distant tides,
I've

International Airport

International Airport

This nowhere, a contrived freedom
expatriate as air,
demonstrates our mastery
of what we meet or leave behind.

Each precise beginning
finds an ending imprecise,
as we fly to where or whom we wish
only to find them somehow less.

The conquered distance
returns within ourselves
as all that's joined grows relative
becomes a nowhere too. 

Until the town seems smaller
the loving eyes less absolute.

Expatriate Grief

inferno! raze all over 
fire, fire everywhere
not a while living in fair
leaders unity jabber
refugee gets destroyer 



-December 06, 2018 Chattogram

Expatriate

I scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In early years we settled down,
Republic versus Queen and Crown,
three thousand

Expatriate

I scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In early years we settled down,
Republic versus Queen and Crown,
three thousand

Expatriate

...inspired by 'With a Photograph to Zell'
   by Hart Crane.  


We scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
confidantes, a melting

Expatriate

I scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In early years we settled down,
Republic versus Queen and Crown,
three thousand

Expatriate

EXPATRIATE…
     (Apropos Soon Come)

Heard the chichi budo singing
in the banana walk; heard
the burro braying; and
the mongoose roaming the coop;
smelled the aroma of roast breadfruit,
ackee and salt fish; and
felt the icy cold air tease
the warmness of my body.

Then came the off-beat
pitter patter of raindrops falling
on the roof top, drowning away the dream:
washing

Expatriate

I scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In early years we settled down,
Republic versus Queen and Crown,
three thousand

Nostalgia-Song of the Expatriate

(I'm 
an 
Indian 
lassie, 
was 
born 
in 
West 
Africa, 
(Nigeria), 
Grew 
up 
in 
South 
Africa 
(Swaziland) 
and 
currently 
live 
in 
East 
Africa. 
(Tanzania). 
So 
I 
live 
in 
Daresalam, 
near 
the 
Indian 
Ocean.)


I 
might 
be 
like 
any 
other 
expatriate, 
desirous 
of 
their 
homeland
Upon 
my 
country's 
soil 
fervently 
wishing 
to 
stand.
I 
can't 
help 
feeling 
profusely 
foreigner
in 
this

Expatriate

We scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In early years we settled down,
Republic versus Queen and Crown,
three thousand

American Expatriate

America should have a society of peace,
Of handsome peace,
And a land of exuberant compassion
Where the dusk
Is a breast pocket handkerchief
Of ebony and yellow,
And not this land that is death’s grin.

America should have a land of opportunity,
Of infinite opportunities
Accompanied with sound wages
Prolific as Father Time,
And not this land where blotted bones reside

Oh, America should have a

Expatriate

...inspired by 'With a Photograph to Zell' by Hart Crane
 

We scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
we simmer in a melting pot.
In

Expatriate

...inspired by 'With a Photograph to Zell'
   by Hart Crane.  


We scan the skies as vapor sails,
made wide by distance, destinations
guessed at, criss-cross trails
of global peregrinations;
two of thousands flying high
'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. 

Time and separation matter not,
our spirits meld where'er we land,
cities mysterious and grand,
confidantes, a melting

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