What poem will you wear, when first we meet?

How will I recognition-you,
when you transverse my land?
Unknown our faces, our voices,
Only silent words electronic exchanged

Will lantern, it be: one, if by land, two, if by sea?
Will your ID badge, passport stamped and state,
Your chest bear a witness-sign?

The Arrivals Board flashes:
                    une poétesse est arrivé
                    eine Dichterin ist angekomme
                    a poetess has arrived
                    una poetisa ha llegado

Will there be a haiku in your hair,
A limerick exposed by raucous grin,
Or just ten words
allotted for your entire visit?

Desperate to locate
Urgent to sensate
Matters I take
Into two cupped hands,
On the shoeshine stand
Climb and recite-shout

Know me by my words,
Know me by the lilt lyrical
Of my American accented,
Canadian Tongue of my mother

Know me by my words,
Carved by time on my forehead,
Poetry is the blood of this fool's soul,
Hear me, find me, look upon me slamming

Poems are the thorns in my palms,
See me crucified, bleeding stanzas
Upon my shoeshine stand cross
Recitation resuscitation welcoming:

Benedicting Gloria, Gloria, Gloria

But if this should fail your attention to secure,
Or the TSA unappreciate my second coming,
Look for the crowd gathered round,
A man of moderate height, in a tall hat,
Beard scraggly, looking sorrowful
Reciting the Gettysburg Address

Either way,
Should be easy peasy to find me,
Grab your bag, off to short-term parking

This is how an Americana poet meets n' greets
Arriving poetess from a foreign land

Is there any other way?
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Postscipt
Alas, five years on and I know in my heart
that you are not coming...

and if we aver meet,
there will be moments,
i will look at you,
without any reason,
yet with a meaning,
i would love to see,
how you move your hands,
in space while talking,
how that pretty smile of yours,
spread on your pretty face,
and i would you to,
shake my hand,
and,
ask me whether i am listening to you........
-memoona kazmi

I overdosed on my cupid's arrow
I trip and fall
at that first
different
"hello"

Moon in the east
Sun in the west
makes me want to sleep,
a chest onto rest.

it's illogical that in the -
morning you'll see my Moon,
and later on you'll see my Sun
one that gives me light, one that gives
my everything shine.

oh heavenly beauty
of my Moon and my Sun
'tis the look of what
make my heart run

oh weirdly meeting
of my Moon and my Sun -
it is beautifully shocking
made me love more, these two,
of my Moon and my Sun.

oh, a rendezvous, cool -
of my Moon and my Sun
made me more than a fool,
made my heart break more
of my Moon and my Sun.

why thou ?
i'll tell you two, the Moon and the Sun

the Moon,
my Moon -
whom i love
but doesn't love me back

and the Sun
my Sun -
whom i love
that doesn't love me back

and with that
the meeting of my Moon and my Sun
made me hurt more
knowing that i have two beauties whom i love
that doesn't love me back.