Short Foreigners Poems
Short Foreigners Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Foreigners by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Foreigners by length and keyword.
FAR
Away, distant
Outlying, seeing, reaching,
Countries, foreigners, timely, relatives
Appearing, landing, coming
Close, handy
NEAR
written April 9, 2022
The old cave was inhabited
But no one knows who
They never knew that the inhabitants
Were foreigners different from you
They could have looked different
What they have made was a single dent
Che cosa strangieri (what do you want foreigners?)
What you want of me is to be your slave.
A mind of knowledge works for the team and not for a tyrant.
So no I say & addio (goodbye forever)
The Chinese are not physically taller than any foreigners
But their statures are mystically long
The Foreigners link their hearts to mouths using steel pipes
While the Chinese do so by fitting coil springs on
what did I say
they never heard
not foreigners
if who knows me
that is not bad
they said I didn't say
what did I do
they never see
not blind
they irrelevant from me
that is not bad
they said nothing
Pharaoh’s was the first pyramid scheme
A ruler who sure knew how to dream
Thousands of foreigners died: 'collateral damage'
The first project a CEO ~ ever mismanaged
As seeds, of a cold windswept hand
Now rooted in your land
What, growing up as wildflowers
Were, too, called foreigners.
Displaced themselves, are not these
For road-blown refugees
Not worth that time-budding chance
Cultured landscapes enhance?
a little argument in Portugal
at the pharmacy
a man tried to get in front of me
I would have none of it
We had words.
But something he said
Stuck in my mind;
We don´t like you (foreigners)
We only tolerate you.
The people at the pharmacy
Fell silent.
I had the sense they agreed with him.
Where there is fog
That's where I'm from
Where Summer is not hot
Where it's expensive to live in
San Francisco
Where the famous singers left their heart
Where the famous bridge is from the Golden Gate
Where happiness is never ends
The tourist spot for foreigners
San Francisco
Oh how I love thee
All Broken, Cracked, Dead,
Everything Frail. Gory Hell I
Just Keep Landlocked Making
No Optimism. Preachers Quote
Relentlessly Suspending Time
Underground. Villains With
Xenophobe Yearning Zen.
Xenophobe- one who fears,
mistrusts, and dislikes
foreigners or what is strange or
foreign.
Xenophobia in Trump’s America
Black and brown foreigners, believes our blond superman,
Are taking our jobs, a racist approach, his Muslin ban
And support for building this xenophobic wall,
Have cost America Millions, let it fall,
Sad for a president to have more foe than fan!
My third limerick in my trilogy
T&T Carnival that is Soca Bacchanal
Blue skies half-naked people
Steel pan lots of bands, foreigners everywhere
Crowded street
Sweet melodies
Friendly people
Loud voices
Cheerful laughter
Calm winds
Cool breeze
Watchful eyes
Bright sun
Rainbow colours
Dancing children
Different cultures that is what we call
T&T Carnival
They look like us,
On the outside,
Only just younger.
They walk upright,
Can speak English;
No, not foreigners.
We nourish them,
Provide for them;
Help Them grow stronger.
They sprout gadgets,
To interface
One with another.
Prefer online
To face to face.
Virtual lover?
Will they survive,
Even evolve,
To become human
20160330
Form:
On a little desk in a dusty room
I sat and dreamed things strange
flying as birds did around school
talking as parrots with foreigners
capturing images with cakes and bread
eating worms cooked, served in plates
talking using cockroaches tied to wires
tying my neck with gold- colored ropes
working in anthills built with glasses
I think I saw it while in Primary School
Let me sing a foreign song
To the hears of my foreign friend
Let me dance with foreign moves
To the beat of my foreign art
She said she believed a foreign friend
That came far from a foreign land
She speaks calm to the foreign quest
And two foreigners look like a regular
Sing to me and hear a foreign melody
Save me from been a toreador
Fighting for love in a strange land
Call me my name and sing my pedigree
Samuel Wamuel, Pirate Cat with a Yo Ho Ho Ho
Steered his ship through the island of Want a Go Go
With salty western winds on his lip, and his heart full of woe
He traveled the Seven Seas as some of us foreigners know.
Other pirate ships would spot us and yell “oh, no! No!”
Samuel Wamuel’s reputation was not a bit slow.
He’s not all that bad said his child, name of Chloe.
Oh, yes, he is said his brother, a bad boy named Joe.
In lands where olive trees were once tended with care
echoes of laughter from the indigenous ones
beneath a sky where foreigners cast their lies
Where dreams were lost and all hope died
children's eyes opened wide with fear
memories of peace now blurred and unclear
Horrors whispered in the dark of night
Zionists crimes of plunder and plight
fields once fertile now stolen by knife
In the name of the mafia they've taken my child's life
Many palace and temple
walls carry my images;
My subjects chant my name,
whenever I am at their sight
or not; Foreigners spread
my name and status throughout
the world
After thousands of wheat
harvests, I wonder whether
my images on palace and temple
walls will still be seen, to boast
memories of my royal status;
I wonder whether this land of Isis,
will still be chanting my name;
I wonder whether the sands of time,
will have buried my legacy or not...
my peers have forgotten what it is that brings honor
and the right hour
that we were supposed to take over
and turn things around
they are sinking deeper into corruption
they fight for higher positions
so they can steal
and enrich themselves
selling our land to foreigners
i pray unto God
to raise us a nation
that's going to hate corruption
and despise all the acts related to it
we lack vision and confidence
and really ignore
what it is that brings honor.
Stay away from them, he told me. They are foreigners.
I too am a foreigner.
This is America, after all.
Anyone who is not a Native American is a foreigner.
We Europeans ran over here and land-grabbed land from people
Who thought land was to be shared, not owned.
I am born here, and I still feel like a foreigner.
I am not Native American, after all.
So, yes, I am a foreigner.
It would make no sense for me to stay away from other foreigners.
But I shall stay away from him.
It is time for pest control the cowboy way
There is no need for chemical spray
Put on those boots with the pointed toes
To destroy those pestilent foes
Smash the cockroaches as they scamper to the corners
Those death and disease carrying foreigners
Chase the vermin to the brink of their hiding places
Just before they enter the safety of their breeding spaces
The last vision they will see is the shadow of the western boot
Because sandals are not worn by the cowboy sort of brute
Foreigners in our humid country pray*
To smite heat with triumphant icy tray
Savoring popsicle sticks
Midst constant cold water-licks
As they are fired-up by bright Summer ray.
*Philippians 4:6 Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
August 1, 2024
4th place, "A funny Summer Limerick" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin; judged on 8/18/2024