Short Passport Poems
Short Passport Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Passport by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Passport by length and keyword.
My nostalgia
not allowed
to carry me to you ...
My memoirs
do not have passport
to carry you to me
"PASSPORT"
Passport to Freedom Baby Shooting Star Released
(Lovejoy-Burton/ 2018 Jan)
1.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zA_lhbPVDi4
she is
you are
going to be
the one that
sees me for
the first time
setting foot
on South
American
soil and i
didn't do it
for mankind
but for myself
Form:
I retreat to my hideaway.
Storybooks become the gateway to various fantasylands.
I'm always ready for adventure.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2026
...just got my passport pictures today and as usual my wings are again visible...and so are the hairs on my palms...being an angel is, for the most part unbelievably complicated.
1.NIC Copy.
2.Valid Passport.
3.Visa Application Form.
4.Photographs.
5.Bank Statement 6 months
6.Invitation Letter.
7.FRC or MRC.
8.Covid Vaccine Card.
9.Polio Card.
10.Return Air Ticket.
Your passport to happiness is deep in your soul
Gives passage to HappyLand without any toll
Just smile a big smile
A big ten on the dial
In a bottomless pit of ecstasy you'll roll
Your passport to happiness is deep in your soul
Gives passage to Happy Land without any toll
Just smile a big smile
A big ten on the dial
In a bottomless pit of ecstasy you'll roll
© Jack Ellison 2015
my passport is laying dusty
on the dresser in my room
constantly, reminding me
of my last trip to the sea
I need to squeeze in one more trip
to this place I love
where serenity, engulfs me
and the white noises leave quietly
I was questioned by my former in-laws
When you were taking care of the baby
placing the bathtub over the bathtub
Did you have modesty in your gaze?
I swear by God
I tried with my passport
This led me to autism and dyslexia
Soon to be PTSD too!
3:21 PM
8-5-2024
My soul cries out for shores I cannot reach,
My fragile body bars me from the beach.
I dream of London's chimes from Big Ben's face,
And Rome's old Colosseum, lost to time and space.
The world's a book I yearn to read, my dear,
But all its pages are locked away in fear.
"Whatever happened to Paris?"
she asked
recalling the long ago
promise he'd made
After twenty years
she still did not
possess a passport
"That was important to you?
I never knew," he replied
with a nonchalant shrug
as she picked up her pen
to sign the divorce papers
Two lovers meet in park
The sun dims…not quite dark
She has some life changing news
She gives it to him straight
Tells him she’s nine days late
He gets his flask and downs booze
He says “things will be fine”
Takes her home, time confines
Grabs his passport…leaves no clues
See my sun-
It smiles high;
Defeat becomes fun;
It,I sigh.
Some people vow,
Where your hope?
Before any row,
Solidly I cope!
My passport seized,
Thinking that kills,
So travels stopped,
Building me hills.
God sees me,
I never cheated!
Truth is good:
When coming far.
A place though small enough to write,
still big enough to dream
My pen, a passport out of time,
with phrases to redeem
The North Wind calls, a purple sky,
on wings my ear enchants
And hears but one voice through the clouds
—to make the letters dance
(The New Room: February, 2021)
Everything appearing as nothing..
Obviously the reverse of
Nothing appearing as everything..
In their turn
Each seems to propose a source..
Language seems to have
Source talk embedded..and cannot
Capture the paradox of what is
Unexplainably
Simultaneous..
Poetry may be the passport...
all It takes to become American
a voice and patience
as the guy for the interview never asked me the flag
as I am not here for a driving test
and read your pamphlet ********
just give me the seal and will pay to get a passport
but for sure walk to the statue of liberty to give a bow
as I took allegiance and went to the post office
Bag filled with books
eyes filled with tears
passport full of stamps
soul full of scars
Another journey begins anew
from pieces of heart left with a few hearts
I went to the place where I once knew her
she was with same smiles and joy belonging to someone new
So I turned back home in void of heart
To another journey anew
-Ravi
I am giving you this bead,
An unbroken chain of knowledge,
It is your passport to reach the world.
The soul of a man is a far country,
Impossible to explore by anyone with blood.
When the road seems lock on your journey,
Light up the lamp and see the guiltless smile
On my face; then you can find your way.
(C) John chizoba Vincent
Success is sweet
When you feel the hardest.
The farther you invest
The better the harvest.
The longer you preach
The exciting you teach.
Before it will rain today
You already have a hideaway.
Luck is very sure
Mix a prayer and action pure.
Your good values is your ticket here
Your good works is your passport there.
what I thought was going to last, drains like sand
from the hour glass
did I blink, when that look faded from your eyes?
my ears, not attuned to the sound of your heart's door closing
to the smile, that came more slowly
to the touch, growing cold, before it was withdrawn
to love, that packs its bags and leaves
the passport stamped with yesterday
I’m envious of the clouds
That float happily in the sun -
Changing into colorful shrouds -
Lumping from many into one.
Their most compatible friend -
The wind, admits
They beautify the high heaven -
As nebulosity permits -
Travel without a passport -
Slipping away on a whim
For a day’s length or more -
Then return a denizen.
An English accent helps,
if you’re at least half well dressed
in an American bar.
Your voice maybe a passport
to getting yourself laid
or it may perhaps be an invitation
for some young buck to spoil your night
in a fit of beer rage.
However,
if you leave with the girl,
it was because of your good looking
accent;
and I thank you
Sir Winston Churchill.
A Big bang, the press good news
is here small silky tender young endearing
to morning dew.
Joy laughter sounds of trumpetst
Roses dancing and sing sun stand shinning
brightly.
Warm embrace claiming space prints desending
from a new generation I here a suit voice
of sound that echo through the land.
My passport present working hand in hand with
destine.
Form:
Trotter's words are his deeds
girding the Earth
in great magnetic lines
of universal intent.
In Ward's ritually upraised palm
we see the symbol Coriolis
south draining left
north draining right
Into the realm of Neptune
via the cisterns of Rome
down the ancient river Po
to wicked storms at sea
Into vortices the poet's passport
falls as a man overboard
all its pages torn
one by one.