Incomers Poems - Poems about Incomers

...Restless is Portugal There is mayhem in Paradise the citizens of Lisbon are tired of the bother and street fighting, where knives are used by migrants Gang fights, robbery, and shop theft is......

Continue reading...

...What is clear (riot) I saw the working-class riot on TV it was there when workers attacked the police who are working class themselves, or was  angrily demonstrated against the influx of Mosle......

Continue reading...

...Morning Thoughts Sunday morning, heavy mist clings to the building the bay of Cascais is shrouded as a grief-striking widow inaudibly her sigh, but her eyes are still sea green Ten days ago, ......

Continue reading...

...Incomers From the middle east and Africa, people seek European shores dispossessed and poverty struck, they seek, a better life a promised life of democracy and work for everyone Many, when rea......

Continue reading...

...tribes What is said is said and cannot be undone the white people take a perverse delight in denigrating themselves as it should be a fearful badge of honour (Do we detect a certain pride?) ......

Continue reading...

...There’s still a Church and Chapel A pub, but no longer a school For there on the council Childless incomers rule. There are houses on allotments, Pastures where cows would graze Have asph......

Continue reading...

...they disturb, deep behind my sleeping eyes ...... retune my tautened strings, replay my frets vignette movies spin reels of dreams discovering fresh slants on shadowy delight the foreb......

Continue reading...

...What is the purpose of your visit young man? I heard that you have the best marmalade in the world Well we do import oranges but you look a bit foreign to us I am a seasoned voyage......

Continue reading...

...skinny island rump highway seas churning the horizon under turbulent skies entity England migration waves still grounding along the continental shelf monarchs, priests and lords relaun......

Continue reading...

...chieftains trade their loyalty behind the clouds high mountain king Carrantouhil commanding his Macgillycuddy Reeks men of begotten rank, scheming skulduggery secrets hide out of sight, Come......

Continue reading...

...Tasmania Wool of the sheep in Tasmania is full of soot a fire has destroyed the farms they belonged to. They have gone feral now grazing where there is any grass left… In a country where insensi......

Continue reading...

...Time for Clearance I was in Norway once, the paradise of social democracy, I saw many beggars, mostly Roma people who the inhabitant wanted to get rid of or send them out of town in the wood......

Continue reading...