Short Birthplace Poems
Short Birthplace Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Birthplace by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Birthplace by length and keyword.
In my happy place:
Island that is my birthplace.
Joining the rat race
As a temporary face
In my store at my own pace.
My mother was
my first room
birthplace and address...
After there, I came to
the world...
Where is the birthplace
Of the unholy and corrupt
The place of the lost
Where evil stems and harbors
Final home of the undead
Russell Sivey
There once was a place called Acirema
A ways from the sands of Ipanema
The birthplace of Squanto
The home of brave Tonto
Backwards. it fought at Iwo Jima
Nashville Tennessee quite the destination.
Historical birthplace of so many illustrious careers.
Phenomenal live concerts and museums.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2026
Birthplace
I’m raised
Big part
My heart
God’s gift
Hate drifts
Less strains
Love reigns
I long
Belong
Strong bond
Faith mound
Dreams’ core
Hope soars
I rest
The Best!
Were not exiled from your birthplace my soul you would not have to endure life's pains!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 March 2017
* Dedicated to a dear friend going through difficult times.
I Will Be,
On The Lead!
Scoring's Effort,
Wakes Our Dreams!
To Field's Where Hope Is Shown;
The Strength Our Voices, .... Roll!
_______________________
Birthplace, .... Rolla Missouri
Back in my birthplace, though it has no dazzle
Jays still fly gracefully by its castle
By the olden hill it stands
As the mill in the hinterlands
Is turning in the wind
Like a tough rhino's skin
Earthen fortress, tough front wall
Yield? Never! I am a barrier tall
Our childhood homes gone and all their effects,
brand-new highway fills that space.
School replaced by a government complex.
But… the graveyard remains in place,
our playground on the way to school.
Log cabin monument, way cool -
staunch marker where memories rule.
The pathways we follow
are too oft chosen for us
Our birthplace or breeding
as to flowers their seeding
Schools and society too have their way
framing whatever they want us to say
Hearts need to express their deepest yearnings
toward the pathways our feet someday will be turning
The world is black if you see it from earth
The world is white if you stand upon it
This world is the power
of the creatures of night
and it's king has the power
to lessen it's might...
This is the entry to the history of Lore:
the planet that give earth it's night.
and the birthplace of NightHeart.
I have no complain
I am not alone
Loneliness never touch me
I am alone in crowded
But into myself I am and me- the duet echo,
All through several echo of me and my inside,
A ritual form of corpse- soul and I am
No, never I was alone
from womb to birthplace
within love-
love of myself,
my echo!
Bas’ video of Africa really inspired me
Just riding on the Nile river Casually
He got me thinking bout my life, my family
My roots, my ancestors, my legacy
The real eastside--cradle of humanity
The birthplace of knowledge & reality
What’d you think, happen magically?
Kings & queens, put on a boat, tragically
I have traveled to and fro
To know that there is no place
Like home Sweet home
Charity begins at home because
You're a strange native to other
Natives home Sweet home
Home is an asset so a man
Without a good home is a
Grown stranger to his people
Your home is your origin
Your birthplace is a turning point
Home Sweet home
In our country home beneath the moonlit sky
The hearth burns brightly with ardent flames.
Our wealth is scant and pockets dry.
However, our spirits soar untamed
A patch of earth where dreams are sown
Symbolic of our hope's embrace
With hands we toil, and seeds are grown.
We are rich in love at this birthplace.
Bizarre world
With bizarre people
Dwelling with pseudo reality
To "go with the flow"
Unborn dreams
Unspecified dreams
Die down
Perish 'n lay down
in the birthplace itself
or stay hidden forever
in the deep heart's core
To live your pseudo reality
you question others' ill-doings
How about questioning your own sanity?
Invisible yet powerful
The wind is, of course, the most respected
Of the elements
But what about water?
With multiple personalities
The seas rage
Then there is fire
Strong and beautiful and majestic
Topping them all- but remember the Earth
The foundation
The birthplace of all plant life on this planet
Maybe they're all important.
The Elements
Appears a mysterious land from far,
Dream of vermilion sky at mystic dawn
Prayers heard from boats on holy river,
Mythical chants floating in consciousness.
My birthplace - ancient city reminding
Of vedas and epics, saints and hermits,
A land of literature, poetry,
Music, art, picturesque architecture...
For thousands of years verses flow in air
land of Kalidasa and Valmiki.
‘Up The Mountains’
‘Down The Shore’
Street Vernacular
Philly Pure
Cheesesteak Heaven
‘Wit Or Witout’
South Street Pretzels
Twist And Shout
Frankie And Bobby
Fabian’s Luck
Chubby singing
The Hucklebuck
Jerry Blavat
Dick Clark’s Dawn
Comcast Center
City Throngs
Dovel’s Stomping
Hall And Oats
Bell Of Freedom
— Philly Note
(Freedom’s Birthplace: June, 2026)
Parade in the streets, eat corned beef,
And let the darkness flow.
St. James’s Gate is the birthplace.
Let the darkness flow.
Grand day for grazing, life’s amazing.
So let the darkness flow.
Jump in a reel or fiddle a jig.
Then let the darkness flow.
Drive out the snakes, embrace the blarney.
Letting the darkness flow.
It may be the day for wearing the green,
But let the darkness flow!
Often greatness comes from humble roots
Where none-expected talents lay hidden
Beneath veneers of undeveloped yearning,
Hiding like gemstones in hard rough slate
Until the master discovers facets that glisten.
written January 1, 2020
[while visiting the birthplace of
Elvis Presley in Tupelo, Mississippi]
Entered "Bite Size Poetry No. 32" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Some say “East or West home is best”. They regard
their birthplace like Mecca to Muslims, or Jerusalem to Jews.
Food tastes better, air is much more refreshing, people friendlier,
wines warmer…. Life outside their homes is less than they expect,
like training yourself to take tea with less sugar.
For me, I think Home is where the heart belongs. A place you can feel
free to be who you really are.
Water milk warm
Honey sand so light
The breeze so soothing
Misty air sunshine filled
And your smile is more than just sweet
I am with myself
With seagulls near me
Lost sailors whispering
The sound of waves very calming
And pine trees pivoting in the sea
An escape of a thought
In this domain of freedom
Then crushed by thunder
A rainfall forced rainbow
And this story is salty air carried
A blank sheet of stationary
lays speechless beside a keyboard.
Scores of single letters and marks-
Inert symbols invented years
Lost to man’s recent memory.
Instruments of mental fury
And human eventemperedness.
What does fate hold in store for it?
Will it be a fiery paper
With memorable rhetoric
Or the birthplace of a poem?
Both are conceivable concepts
Yet the unsullied cellulose
Is mute waiting to be unmasked.