Long Expatriate Poems

LETTER to RON" Diary Notes : Lament at Dawn - A Year Ago Yet Now No Change "
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
8/19/2018

"Quite a lament! The state of Paris at dawn. Just the thought of sewage seeping...

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(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...

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Words may come and words may go, and there are some we’ll never know.  But 
the secret lies in the letters you C, for they control the mystery of what we will B.

In the...

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In the region of a French king's kingdom introspecting his sheepish, forlorn verdict. The decision he made was to excommunicate the son of his spirit and expatriate him from his manor. His son had attempted...

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land is  threw you

And was laid on pavilion of a poem

It may not mislead characters ... Who are you?

A homeland on the door of hell though it appeared

your is emigration was to merit

 did...

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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.”...

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The scent of oceans, a certain coolness
of wind over water wanders these city streets
where oleander blooms wickedly 
in the ruby assignation of the heart.
An occosional grayed gull, bonded to the Seine,

grown fat with pigeons and...

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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...

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...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...

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...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...

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Looking through the window up to the sky,
Full moon solely glows without twinkling stars,
The breeze has blown away the clouds,
Serene moon paints the sky in a heaven scene.

Unique full moon decorates gentle sky.
Far away from...

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...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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

Read More

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...

Read More

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...

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In the evenings
was the rooftop,
swisher sweets and sometimes
something in particular.

say we were young
say we both knew better
play the saint, its O.K.
say that you felt it too

Was it not
the grooviest thing;
our outrageously shameless,
fist-shaking dream for two?

say...

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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...

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What do you see in an 'Ex' when 
Experienced?
An Ex-perience not to be Ex-humed,
An Ex-creted entity not to be Ex-amined,
An Ex-planation for an extra Ex-pectation.
An Ex-plicit emblem of empty Ex-it.
An Ex-pression of Ex-tinction.
An Expatriate of...

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