Long Foreigners Poems
Long Foreigners Poems. Below are the most popular long Foreigners by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Foreigners poems by poem length and keyword.
Everybody knows the spot of the nose
It sits facing lighthouses, look up
Some guide ships, and stays lit
While the nose sniffs everything.
Have you seen anatomical perfection
On someone you know
Good spine, great waistline.
Looking downstairs
Nothing there, seem out of place
Some nose have wooed, wine and dine
Foreigners, even stars.
Never mind few nose have peculiarities
All else is fair
Or handsome, as with English dandy.
To add to the joy of the nose
Give it a job
Then again, the nose have been boss
Regardless of its class
Thank God, credentials rule.
If I could change something of my making
Lord knows, it would first be my nose
But the great aunt once said it suits my face
You decide. I'm on facebook, and poetry soup page.
Have you seen certain nose from around the globe?
Some will look you up and down
While others soon learn to look heaven bound.
*
Slavery is not the end of atrocities
Suffered by minority communities
The every day systematic sway
Of bricks piled against you like
A wall of pain
So many bricks
The millions murdered for simply being
Who they were born to be black brown red
But of these I speak of what I know firsthand
The professional personal political assassination
of the collective black character is so deep
It is astonishing ingrained and denied to be a thing
For instance because there was a black president
In this racist country people say there you have equality
Nope
A system built on the back of blacks
That promotes hate of anything black
Saving a few teachers pets
Does not save the souls of those
Still being oppressed stressed and put to death
Schools are the battleground as well
We are not even teaching the truth freely
Jim Crow is alive and well look it up
The systems of government are used and abused
To keep people from getting the American Dream
The poor displaced and disgraced
Taxed to the max
While the rich enjoy perks less tax relax
When I walk in a store I am sized up and categorized
followed by security I may get service
But only if I look affluent enough and
Sometimes not even then
Depending on the store and area
When my brother walks down the street
Do you clutch your purse
No really
If he doesn’t style himself just so
Is he perceived as less than
When he goes to the bank for a loan
How often will he be denied
Or unfairly penalized
It’s deeper than slavery
We are still here suffering despite being
Called American we are treated
Not even as well as foreigners
Who seek asylum
Where is that for the brown red black people
It’s not being able to fairly compete for jobs
When corporate snobs want degrees and experience
But how do you get one before the other
When you don’t qualify for loans
Or go in so much debt for college
That the dream is deferred
Or you get the job but the pay
Is poor because you can’t afford the degree
Never mind you are doing the job perfectly
So you must get multiple jobs to eat
I’m so sick of saying that marginalized
Systematic racism in America is more than what happened then it is what is happening today now
And by the looks of it what the future holds
As the systems of old have not been replaced!
Going Towards the Unknown
Zabra, a Spanish vessel sailing around Africa to
Yemen by the Red Sea. A sense of
xenophilia was felt among the mainland Yemen people on our arrival. They are
worlds apart in lifestyle from ours, they live in mud homes. Our charter
voyage takes us back home to the fond memories of living there. We have easy sailing
under the right conditions if the tides and wind permit. We’ll stop at
Tanzania and pick up supplies and head back to our homeland, the
Spanish sun of Spain.
Retreating down the companionway to my stateroom and a tranquil
quiet night. Sweet is the night air as the Zabra, rocks and lulls our tired bodies to sleep.
Passing of so many days and nights,
our thoughts are when will this voyage ever end.
Not until we sight shore will our
mind’s forget the terror of being forever
lost at sea.
Knowledge of skillful sailing assures us of a safe voyage.
Just pull the sails up and fill them with wind.
I gaze upon the sea and smell and feel the tease of a cool, crisp breeze against my face.
High tide and we’re off with a full moon navigating by the stars
guiding us into the horizon all the way home
filling us with pride.
Early morning radiant sunrise, shows us a
dealbation heaven opening to the cloud full sky.
Catching the wind in our sails,
beckons me on to embrace
a life of sailing journeys.
10/15/2015
Contest Name: first ever Z Y X contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
zabra : a sailing vessel resembling a small frigate and used chiefly by the Spanish in the 16th and 17th centuries
Xenophily or xenophilia means an affection for unknown/foreign objects or people. xenophilia love of foreigners
dealbation --bleaching; whitening.
She is just like Jericho
Walls of stone so hard and cold.
Protecting her from all that might have been.
And all the things she won’t show,
Sights so wondrous to behold,
Are buried somewhere deep beneath her skin.
She has built her garden walls
A thousand miles wide and tall
And there is no way over or around.
So, I stand here, looking small
To sing my song beside her wall
And hope that she might somehow hear the sound.
I have tried to catch her eye
To see all that she would deny
Beyond the lies she says that she believes.
There are hints that would imply
The tears she’d never ever cry,
She’s too afraid of foreigners and thieves.
Someday I may find the key
To repeat ancient history
But until then I wander ‘round her town.
She may look, she may see,
That tiny voice belongs to me,
A hopeful man who stands here on the ground.
How I long to find the song
To heal her hurts, to right the wrongs.
How I wish to free the love she’s bound.
I dream that I could make my voice
A trumpet blast, a heav’nly noise.
That I could make the walls come tumbling down.
why are our tax dollars being spent on crippled
and paralyzed drug hoods?
why are we supporting teenage girl having babies
and not trying to do any good?
how Is It possible for foreigners
to get supplemental security income?
and where Is all the money supposedly coming from?
yet, when we the American citizens
who have worked and struggled all our lives
attempt to get any assistance from the government
we only get a lot of bull and some jive
what in the world could the politicians
have been thinking about?
when we have families right here in America
having to do without
Is It political policy
over social responsibility?
the American Government aspires
to be the world's police force
by deploying our young men and women into war zones
without any recourse
but who Is to blame for making all these
life altering decisions?
It's not those who don't vote
for they have no voice nor position
now Is the time for all Americans
to step up to the plate
make your voice and choice be known
before It's too late
we need to stop this madness
and unnecessary spending
call the politicians on to the carpet
and bring about some ending
Is It political corruption
versus social reconstruction?
so just get out and vote
and make your choice be known
put who you want in positions of power
with ideals like your own
It's time to take a stance
and get back our power
be more socially and politically conscious
at the voting hour
Decaphobia – fear of number 10, perhaps because the Roman numeral X is 10
Xinoaxphobia – fear of the letter X not to be confused with xenophobia
Xenophobia - fear of strangers or foreigners often confounded with
Xenonosocomiophobia – fear of foreign pickpockets sometimes correlated with
Xanthophobia – fear of yellow, word or colour, but distinct from word phobias
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia - the fear of long words especially
Gerascophobia - the fear of getting old often associated with
Athazagoraphobia – a fear of something or other, I’ve forgotten what leading to
Pantophobia - which is basically a widespread fear of everything, but remember
Apocalypse anxiety is a real thing, but it’s not the end of the world.
Of all the things that I have lost
Perhaps what hurts the most
Is that I can no longer go
to where I once called home...
I cannot roam with childish glee
Down through the leafy grove
Nor play with snowballs, dance in snow
Then thaw beside the stove
I cannot use pink muhlberries
To paint my childish lips
I cannot eat the greens I've picked
Right down to soily tip
I cannot brown my little legs
Beneath the blazing sun
Or slpash in cold and icy pool
Until the day is done
I cannot play my hide and seek
With gateman's little kids
Nor drink the flavored Persian tea
Chase dreams through drooping lids
I cannot rub the walnut skins
And stain my fingers black
I cannot gorge on cherries sweet
I can't bring one day back
I cannot pick blubell flowers
Or swing from walnut tree
I cannot gorge on luscious fruit
Those mountains, I can't see
I cannot run through fresh green grass
Nor bask on asphlat walk
I cannot run through classroom halls
Or relish childish talk
I cannot show off gardened home
To foreigners and say,
"This place is really paradise
That none can steal away"...
I had a dream last night that I was back in my childhood home in Tehran, Iran. We lived in a walled, gated compoud that was the property of our church. My father was a school principal and the administration building and dorms were on our campus. We were situated in Shemran, at the foot of the ELBRUS mountain range. The compund was green.....beautiful. We'd swim in the icy cold pool then lie on asphalted walks to warm up. We had a cherry orchard, walnut, apple, apricot, plum, muhlberry, and almond trees. It would snow in winter, and My brothers would jump off the roof of our house into the snow. I can't describe the ache in my heart at not being able to go back. It was an enchanting childhood and no one can steal my memories. After the revolution in 1979, the government took over the property....but they can't take My dreams. I've shared this....painstakingly written on my phone because my dream was so vivid. I needed to share...
On the far edge of the world there are
fanatics of many minds and religions.
They have uninteresting histories,
jejune existences, and distorted ideas of nature.
Some are belligerent, felony-friendly foreigners.
I’ve never given them a single thought,
because they are nothing to me.
They’re insignificant—living curiosities
and I grant them no more sympathy
than I would a flock of wild birds.
Of course, I’d never wish to harm wild birds
unless they had the wherewithal to attack me,
in inimitable, Hitchcock style.
.
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Songs for this:
Kashmir by by Toni Jevicky
Bring Me to Silence (Audiotree Live) by Fievel Is Glauque
.
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felony-friendly = terrorist or crime adjacent
Incheon 2016
I live in Incheon
Part of the 3 million people who live here
Mostly Koreans
90,000 foreigners though live here too
My apartment is next to a park
And I walk almost daily in the mountains
Loosing myself in the hills
Overlooking the airport
The town has lots of restaurants
Places too go
Things to do
And the airport is next door
Soon there will be a casino complex opening up
As they turn this quite suburban village
Into a Mini-Las Vegas
Complete with a strip
Can’t wait
Going to Seoul is a snap
50 minutes on the train
And I am there
Wherever I want to be
Korea is turning out to be
A good place too live
So much better
Than it was when I first arrived in 1979
And it was grim back then
Now it is the toast of Asia
And for that I am glad
Incheon 2016
I live in Incheon
Part of the 3 million people who live here
Mostly Koreans
90,000 foreigners though live here too
My apartment is next to a park
And I walk almost daily in the mountains
Loosing myself in the hills
Overlooking the airport
The town has lots of restaurants
Places too go
Things to do
And the airport is next door
Soon there will be a casino complex opening up
As they turn this quite suburban village
Into a Mini-Las Vegas
Complete with a strip
Can’t wait
Going to Seoul is a snap
50 minutes on the train
And I am there
Wherever I want to be
Korea is turning out to be
A good place too live
So much better
Than it was when I first arrived in 1979
And it was grim back then
Now it is the toast of Asia
And for that I am glad