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LiLMiSSHoTRoD Oct 2019
We fell like the leaves
I blew away with the wind
a warm heart only believes
that love will never end

i should have known
there would come a day
when winds would blow
and birds would fly away

a bare branch heaves
swinging in the wind
indian summer deceives
the cold is setting in
It felt like crossing      
all things cross, right?

It has been many years since we have walked through that tunnel
and into this land
where the hands of spirits became the wings of ancestors over us
and the quiet inner gust became an orator of truth  

Truthteller could you tell me again my name
They have given me so many on the northern journey,
disguised me to be one of the multiple
flickering pixels on a television screen

eyes darker than their own
but who has darker eyes

She is the barefoot daughter of the Pachamama
womxn of many tongues
womxn whose tongue was not cut off
so you hear her sing when the sun comes up
and sway with the blades of grass
onward in the direction of the voices and the wind
and all the things that cry and laugh out loud  

They made you cross, too
and at the same time
But they made you forget
about the birds,
the wind,
your name- our name
and the alphabet
silence is the alphabet used to speak truth  

They made you forget your name.
Ask them your name as you look up at the sky
cloudy or clear
as  children lay silently next to demarcation lines
housed in steel bars
gloomy and lost
ask and listen
to be humbled by your name  

The spirits call again
can you hear them now?

back through the tunnel of innocence,
they whisper your name.
Zywa Sep 2019
The brains above my mouth
make me eat on time
two extensions detect
food and that's how

it got out of hand

The eyes made the hands go
to the inedible world
made them build extra rooms
to store things

I too went
and from time to time
I migrated back to the past
my friends and family

where my itch started
to make cartwheels
to another world, away
from the table at home

where I had eaten enough
and was looking into the distance
where I hoped to be touched
by a new love
Collection “The migration”
Mark Sep 2019
Why do dictators like to finger the globe?
Shoot the ******* dead, before they become world known.
Should we strangle the gangster and forget about a police probe?
Now in Ferguson, it's happening daily and getting full blown.

Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.

What sort of human can make another's jaw drop and body flop?
Get in the ring, put on your gloves and see who comes out on top.
Will the man on the moon ever show us his dark side?
Maybe the little green men have got something to hide.

Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.

Do clowns sometimes cry and does their eyeliner run?
Maybe there black or white and some might even carry a gun.
Do prison girls like the jail uniform stripe?
Surely they wish for a pink blouse, but never gripe.

Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.

Why do banks, shareholders and politicians always have money in reserve?
While the workers, pensioners and babies don't get what they deserve.
Since when should new immigrants be able to paddle to shore?
When skilled workers from afar and new brides are drowned in red tape, for sure.

So just think about how others live?
Also look at all others in society and give.
Zywa Aug 2019
Falcons do not grab footwear
for their nest, not the slipper
that the Pharaoh gets served on his lap

.....He looks up and everyone
.....looks with him the falcon in the sky

It must be a sign
an assignment from heaven
and the search begins

.....The welfare of the entire nation at stake, the question to find or to fall

The court moves from cottage to cottage
to see the women and the girls
all over the wide delta

.....The heavenly slipper fits at the foot
.....of the foreign Pale Face
.....the slave who is different

She had put it to dry
after washing clothes in the river
and shows the other one
For Taoufik Didouh

Ahmose I expelled the Hyksos from the Nile Delta and then became Pharaoh in Thebes (from 1550 BC). From 1540 he controlled the whole of Egypt.

Rhodopis ("Pink Face", "Pale Face") will undoubtedly have been bullied with worse abusive words than her nickname, but Strabo (Amaseia 64 BC - AD 24) has omitted them when he recorded the story under the title Rhodopis.

Collection “The migration”
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
I just watched a news report:
A father and 3 year old daughter
lay dead
half-submerged in the Rio-Grande river
over which they tried to cross
from Mexico into USA,
fleeing from poverty
and violence
in their central American country of origin.

I was left wondering:
Is there something we can do
to relieve poverty
and achieve prosperity,
and stop violence
and achieve peace
in central American countries?
Zywa Jul 2019
Since mankind exists

we go in all directions:

people are migrants.
"Grand Hotel Europa" (2018, Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer)

Collection "Passage Passion"
Krish R Jul 2019
I will be free, Papa said.
No more tummy growls, Mama said.
I won't be sick often, Papa said.

I can dream, Mama said.
School I can go, Papa said.
Stars I can reach, Mama said.

Land of plenty, Papa said,
Cats have toys, Mama said.
Dogs sleep on beds, Papa said.

Don’t drag my Papa, I begged.
Don’t take my Mama, I cried .
Inside a cage my tears dried.
Family seperation at border
JP Jul 2019
My family has always moved west;
our brethren.

Now that we've hit the Pacific,
where to next?
and they escaped the weight of darkness peering over their shoulders
where do these people go,
what belongings do they pack
is there a limit on the heaviness of ones' soul

Can they bring love as parting gift? Hide it in their handkerchiefs, and then go
People are people. No amount of physical, cultural, or ****** preferences  diminishes  the sacredness of someone’s life. Nothing excuses turning a blind eye on the ill treatment of others.  

We must strive to see others as ourselves or we lose our chance to truly manifest the energy and compassion needed to work across nations and tackle the problems we face globally.  It’s on each of us to realize that a fundamental shift in attitude and culture must occur.

The subject of my poem are immigrants. The U. S Mexican border and the inhuman conditions people are facing.
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