Long Xenophobia Poems
Long Xenophobia Poems. Below are the most popular long Xenophobia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Xenophobia poems by poem length and keyword.
Why Africa
Africa! Africa! Africa!
Once the bosom of unity,
The mother of humanity,
A cradle of human dignity,
A people rooted in integrity.
The world’s mirror of charity,
The true home of hospitality,
Once revered as pillars of morality.
What plague has fallen upon Africa?
Africans killing Africans,
Brothers slaying brothers,
Patriots betraying compatriots.
Mothers and children now seek refuge under bridges,
The old and the weak abandoned to their fates.
Where have we kept our forefathers’ legacies?
They taught us love and oneness,
Trained us to stand for uprightness,
Showed us the meaning of compassion.
Nelson Mandela fought for love, peace, unity, and justice—
He dreamed of African unity, not Afrophobia.
Kwame Nkrumah stood for African freedom;
He never preached African terrorism.
Africans, Africans… where are you?
Rise and lay down your arms.
Drop every weapon of destruction against Africa.
Embrace one another with love.
Unite and end racism and discrimination.
Rise above selfishness; reject xenophobia.
Africans, we are one—
One people, one continent, indivisible.
Together, we can end all xenophobic attacks.
TANGWA LIVINUS ACHA
UNIVERSITY OF YAOUNDE II, SOA
20th April 2015
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, three precious ideals, blinded by the darkness of xenophobia.
The Republic, democracy and human rights are the pillars of a just society, but in the depths of Marianne, their fragility reminds us that nothing can be taken for granted.
Perhaps it will be necessary to decapitate a few heads again on the Place de la Concorde, so that the age-old splendor of revolutionary France can be reborn from its ashes.
Foreigners are constantly discriminated against and treated like cattle, their dignity trampled underfoot.
Illegal immigrants, without a residence permit, live in promiscuity, seeking refuge in a nation that rejects them.
The homeless proletarians, scattered in the streets of the homeland of human rights, are proof that equality is slow to become a reality for all.
Stigmatize Africans by systematically associating them with delinquency and drug trafficking,
It is to ignore the segregationist policies, applied in disadvantaged suburbs,
It is choosing to look elsewhere, faced with the cruelty of France's criminal shenanigans in Africa.
Racists, racialists and nationalist supremacists propagate toxic ideologies that divide rather than unite, creating deep fissures in a France with a legacy of slavery and colonialism.
Negrophobic xenophobes are chained to hatred and intolerance, they despise the salutary values ??of inclusion and the riches of diversity.
Enlightened pan-Africanist sub-Saharan Africans carry a vision of solidarity and continental unity, which advocates the search for the realization of Africa's potential.
Terrorism, capitalism and globalism form an explosive cocktail that disrupts the balance of the contemporary world.
Patriotic fascists, racialist stereotypes and colonial reflexes are infringements which hinder the evolution towards a community attached to egalitarian principles.
Under the lights of the slave trade, amnesia is a medicine for all those who want to forget the past and the horrors of the dark pages of the lugubrious history of sweet France.
The Code Noir gave rise to the transatlantic slave trade, and the Code of the Indigenous was the foundation on which colonization rested.
"Grief is the price we pay for love. "
Queen Elizabeth II
Ache, ache, aching is my soul for those whose,
breathing pulse is no more;
coffin closed their bones decay to dust,
death, oh death you are a thief that comes creeping.
Each night my memories drift, drift, and my
fathomless tears could fill oceans;
grief is a dark cloak I wear,
help me Lord to let go of this sorrow.
Inside me it dwells always, always,
just last night spirits visited me while I slept;
kissing my hair and whispering softly,
Lord, I am weeping, weeping.
My beautiful, my beautiful loved ones I miss you so,
nothing leaves ... for not a single memory do I forget;
oh, my heart is broken and shattered, yet I
put on a mask of happiness and go about my day.
Quietly, I fill my days with art and writing words in forms,
resting the ache inside of me for awhile;
six feet under, six feet under, rest in peace I murmur,
till death unites us in Heaven.
Until we stand hand to hand in the Lord's temple,
visions and hallucinations come to me in the night; and
with fingers weary ... I write, write and do my art,
xenophobia is a fear I hold for losing people.
Yet, to let go of this grief means that all is gone beyond; and
zephyr winds will blow away the love forever.
Fear of the Outsider, the interloper, the alien
Is as old as humanity itself.
Xenophobia doesn’t just apply to someone foreign
And “not like us”,
It applies to anyone who may threaten
Our way of life, the status quo, the norm
And way “it’s always been.”
From local bar to climbing crag, surfing beach,
Ghetto corner, and Union shop floor,
The locals, sometimes multigenerational deep,
Tend to claim their turf
With the worst of human qualities;
Fear and loathing
Sublimated into snide ostracism,
Backstabbing gossip and withering looks
If not fully expressed with seething hate
Slander, bullying and assault.
Meanwhile life goes on for the Xeno
Head down, eyes averted, pathways diverted,
While in their heart
They recognize the love their haters have
For their cherished way of life and ground
Is not exclusive
And no different from their own.
(9/6/25)
Seems as a country full of saints and carriers of purity
as all crimes are interestingly attributed to outsiders
tagging them the influential teachers of immorality
yet such crime lovers show the capability of posing a threat
through the embarrassment caused on locals due to their industrious nature
Understanding the half-hearted privileges such a partial acceptance offers,
settlers become more creative, hardworking and productive
with limbs running on entrepreneurship, trade and commerce
while citizens comfort themselves
in the exaggerated pride of their home soil
which results in a war without cause or reason
The government ought to be a job creator
but how ironic, internationals are paying dearly for it.
It is claimed that foreigners are the thrombus in the channel of employment.
Yet these hated people
are self employed with shops, businesses and service centers
which are destroyed as a form of remittance of some sin
Every nation has her share of international mixture
yet a lot do not debase them as foreigners or aliens
the one down south of the dark island of all countries should be the least,
considering the continent’s role in its history,
irrespective of what her excuse may be
Look inwards if strangers are preferred in the national work force,
to find some answers- you angry mob
Examine your home, if passers-by enjoy more of the milk it produces.
Why target and shoot at the tree
when the bird is left alone to dine and sing?
Policemen catch fun while a soul converts to black coal,
humans lynched like a left over meal from vultures,
businesses ransacked and turned into forceful philanthropy,
these are evidences of character built on a very low budget.
If those responsible do nothing about social development,
With or without these ‘aliens’, the economic problems will still prevail
Every evening, I could witness, in my childhood,
Beggars, going from home to home, for daily food;
Fear filtered into my heart, as though from fountains,
I could see, within me, many terror mountains...!
Visits of soothsayers, snake charmers, and vendors,
Magic, jugglery, witchcraft, and comic blenders;
Each one was considered a guest and was well-homed,
Each, as though members, wherever they wanted, roamed...!
Foreign visitors, often those with skins milk-white,
Made my heart pump very fast, increasing my fright;
Men sent on the query of a vivacious kind,
Set blaze, like volcanoes, firing fears in my mind...!
All these, yet, I feel now, had shot up like mushrooms,
Age and experience swept these away like brooms;
Xenophobia is a phase of growth, I learn,
Some humans, yet, in this urn, eternally burn...!!!
28 April 2023
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Why brother, but why?
Why do you cause me
So much heartache, rigor and pain?
Why the Xenophobia and hate?
Why brother?
When I approach you,
With contrition, you retreat like a stranded snail
When I smile at you
You sneer at me
When I laugh With You
You sneer, jeer at me
Why brother?
When I look in your eyes
I capture; see hate, anger,
Disdain, dread and Xenophobia
When your lips move
I hear you hiss, curse and swear
When I pat you on your shoulder
I see you shrug
Why brother, but why?
When we hug
I feel your arrhythmia, repulse
When you sing
I hear your agony
When you dance, I see your nakedness, helplessness and powerlessness
Why brother, but why?
Sometimes in Virginia when the scorching madness of xenophobia conspires
with a fragile, violent countenance, I fall to the darkest, bitter poison.
And in that carnage, a nation learns of impending destruction.
But the sounds of heaven like an unstoppable flood, poor over New Orleans and
comfort forlorn victims of embedded justice.
I am men, putting women in cages for birds, beautiful yet bound, loved but
unappreciated.
I am women, forsaking my sisters as they struggle to understand my privilege.
I tell you I am a paradoxical reflection of power and fear, love and vengeance.
And I am unstable.
And when the weight of unpaid wages reaches the precipice of doubt in young
impressionable prisoners of comparison, husbands shoot their children and run
to the abyss.
But I tell you there is a sound of redemption in Jill Scott prophecy and Bell Hooks’
gentle wisdom.
I tell you there is a sound of heaven that leaves me fearless, come what may.
Today, I went swimming with my daughter with a final exam the next day.
And in that moment, I knew that this crucible, does not rule me, bind me, or
define me.
Whatever this is, this unstable suffering of paradoxical reflection.
It does not rule me.
For I am an image of a sacrifice so sublime, that the gates of hell, pain,
conquest, or corporate idolatry cannot stand against it.
And in the end, I know peace forever.
An insect preserved in amber
Frozen at one point in time
Never changing,always the same,
Trapped in a living death
Through an accident of place,
It has its grim beauty,it pays the price.
We too are like such insects
But nature provides moments
When we can break free
To broaden our horizons.
It is fear that drives us deeper
Into our alma mater's embrace
To choke by culture confined
To drown by doctrine defined.
If we could just cross boundaries,
If we would tear down our taboos,
We might yet see that we live
On one planet,under one sky ,with but one God.
If only we would tear ourselves free
From the fatal amber cocooning you and me.
the orchestra played full volume in the theatre of her mind
thoughts and emotions vied for undisturbed attention but
her misplaced applause failed to settle restless blind screens
decoupages tapestries and fabrications of her imagination
whole movies and symphonies arranged on fast auto replay
spooled forward and backward until vision blurred into one
epic film tear of overload exhaustion and impenetrable void
hungry children
uncivil wars
deforestation
xenophobia
fission bombs
subjugation oppression marginalization genocides homophobic attacks
power money greed opulence decadence and seeming banality of evil
for the charade that life was she needed to close plenty of curtains
unveil at the same time what had been hidden behind a solid façade
when the cacophony climaxed in crescendo staccato and discord
she knew that her voice of conscience would lead her the way
03rd June 2021