#refugee
A host country: like
a sober hotel, fine, but --
without my story.
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 3:13 AM UTC
For years, refugees
have to stay in the waiting --
area of hope.
Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 3:27 AM UTC
Decision to leave
Permission to enter
Right to remain
Hope for peace
Sep 8, 2024
Sep 8, 2024 at 3:52 PM UTC
Your despair against
my hope, nose to nose, only --
a door in between.
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 8:44 AM UTC
Here too, policemen
coming to deport me to --
a death of torture.
May 24, 2023
May 24, 2023 at 4:12 AM UTC
Flight fantasies, vacation
'Mind your step'
Security procedures, waiting at the gate
I close my eyes
my thoughts take the autowalk
to destinations with a runway
The lock of the jetway fails
one meter before the cabin door
'Mind your step'
.....Flight fantasies, security
.....'Tomorrow I'll get there'
.....Security procedures, waiting at the fence
.....I close my eyes
.....my thoughts take a high flight
.....to a future on the other side
.....I land in a camp again
.....at a higher fence, a closed gate
.....'Tomorrow I'll get there'
Jan 20, 2023
Jan 20, 2023 at 3:30 AM UTC
In the new country
I follow a friend, stepping --
within his footprints.
Nov 7, 2022
Nov 7, 2022 at 3:55 AM UTC
"Only the wearer knows
where the shoe pinches"
Unfortunately
the self-centred societies
don't care about them
Consequently
their sufferings are being unnoticed
The increasing rate of refugees
is aggravated by violence.
Nov 22, 2021
Nov 22, 2021 at 8:47 PM UTC
Walk in familiar slippers
Walk when walking’s spent
Walk on hollow highway
Walk in a birthday dress
Walk under frigid stars
Walk with ancestral song
Walk with right
Walk with wrong
Walk in spite
Walk in pity
Walk in the backstreets
Walk in the news
Walk in borrowed city
Home is leaving
Home is a journey
Home is coloured pencils
For a distant classroom
Home is a wilderness
Home is an army
Home is inquisition
Home is another way
Home is a haven
Home is a promise
Home is a rose bed
Home is tomorrow
Home is hard
Home is good
Simon Piesse
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 5:11 PM UTC
Look at me,
I am desperately
trying to get you
to see my humanity.
I deserve dignity.
My struggles
do not diminish me.
Traveling, running,
drowning, falling,
hope is still calling
so, I move on.
Being a refugee
does not make me wrong.
Have you ever been
as strong as the heat
and desert winds?
Do you know
the kind of fear
that turns the slightest rumble
into another bomb,
or the nightmare
of knowing
most strangers
won’t bother showing
a single particle of compassion?
I am just an atom
blowing in the air,
here and gone
before you ever
noticed I was there.
I know life is not fair,
but why don’t you care?
How about a little grace
and an ounce of decency,
to highlight your supposed
superior morality?
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 10:21 AM UTC
on these waves, quiet crawls
war, with fish, plays; stillness laughs
since you, no more, do.
it's not fair, Aylan.
why'd you leave mother again?
for that heartless land
Ghalib weeps in sleep
says you went to see baba.
Aylan, why'd you go?
out the sea’s warm arms?
—that shore is cold as people
people cold as ice
sleep on Aylan— they
can hear now; you, your people.
Syria and you.
you've sparked up a flame
but don't you see? they love flames—
smokes, blasts and rubbles
can't you read the winds?
say they, stay far from humans
say they, please come back
wont you please come back?
to these safe waters, Aylan.
we're calling for you.
we're calling for you.
you who the fireflies await
we're calling for you.
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 12:59 PM UTC
my mind may have layers
stairs and levels
twisting
and turning
halls and rooms
but don't be fooled
my mind is not
a building
my mind is not
a home
in fact
my mind
is where i get
lost the most
I can't find refuge
not even in my own head
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 10:17 AM UTC
With every word
The rush of night waves lapping across my mind
turn quiet
Your light enters the dark room of my soul
And I am redeemed
A low hum turns into a roar
whispers become chants
thunder drums beat into the heart
of all that needs telling
In a slow
carefully woven tale
An old moss-ridden porch
longs for company
in a deserted neighbourhood
A refugee
has found
Home
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 7:37 AM UTC
The sound of children suffering from some far off shore in my ear
The tears of first light shed a certain sadness as I listen for a sparse hope
But all that transmits is an echo of fear...
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 10:56 PM UTC
When the sun rolls her eyes
A soft whisper reminds him
You’re home free once you lay inside
Barbed wires and lilac thieves
He's cloaked from head to toe
The Promised Land saws at his knees
Raising her head, she cries
Only not for stars or dreams
But to fill as though she is ten, not five
It’s the destination, not the journey they say
Preaching as though you don’t have soil to stay
Listening into the black and white picture screen
Ripples draped in red
They are not called she, he, only thing
Stripped of
Care
Consideration
Left less than animals
Tell me again why you believe this man covered in cloth
Is any less than the man who hides behind a rock
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 11:45 PM UTC
A blue boat
in the Mediterranean,
seven hundred balance,
broken, silent,
an unchosen arc,
rocking hearts dulled
by a slender chance
at survival.
Bitter dread grips
those not in boats,
greeted by the unexpected,
fumbling the knot of wrongdoing.
Surprised faces
bob in peaks and troughs.
Somewhere
between the
abandonment of hope
and the next breath
lies arrival.
A remembrance of
a buoyancy,
a slender space
of kindness,
holds all refugee stories
breathing freely
wave after wave.
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 9:02 AM UTC
Teary eyes with heavy heart,
Moving towards a new land
A place where I will be called a refugee
Which is far away from my home
For which my heartbeat forever.
Other's can feel the same
But cannot match the pain
I am the one who is alien
Why this is happening
Greed for money and power
Change my heaven into the fire
Leaving my motherland to other's land,
Do they accept me as their own
I don't know what will happen
But will keep praying, one day I will
be at my motherland
And the tag will become only a word.
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 12:29 AM UTC
I have spoken with young men,
who were forced to up and run.
Seen the wounds they carry,
from the barrel of someones gun.
I have Spoken with women,
women with tears in eyes that burn.
As they relate what was done,
because they wanted just to learn.
Ive seen teenage girls running,
in fear for their own lives.
Because someone has told them,
they must become someones wives.
I sat with the old men,
whose spirit would not yield.
And heard how rains of bombs,
were dropped upon their field.
I have heard the many stories,
of families torn apart.
Heard of those still missing,
and the pain in fragmented heart.
I've heard of persecutions,
because of the differing of views.
The scores of people disappeared,
without even making evening news.
I met with many others,
and watched and heard them pray.
Running in fear because for them,
it means death to live your life as gay.
I have talked with the children,
all facing life alone.
Parents not seen,
since the houses all got blown.
These most horrible of all things,
most of you will never see.
But someone needs to tell you
these are the lives lived for many a refugee.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 12:22 PM UTC