Take 5ive : Themed Issue - The Plight of Refugees
The Plight of Refugees
The plight of refugees is an incredibly complex and multifaceted issue that demands urgent attention from the international community. These individuals, who have been forcibly displaced from their homes due to persecution, conflict, or natural disasters, face a myriad of challenges that often go unnoticed by those far removed from the situation. From the moment they are uprooted from their familiar surroundings, refugees encounter obstacles such as limited access to basic necessities such as food, shelter, and healthcare. Furthermore, they endure physical and emotional trauma that can result in long-term psychological consequences. The uncertainty of their future also weighs heavily on them, as they grapple with lost opportunities for education and employment while navigating unfamiliar legal systems in search of protection. The plights of refugee populations are diverse and ever-evolving; therefore it is crucial for governments, NGOs, and global citizens alike to collaborate effectively in order to address their unique needs and provide sustainable solutions for these vulnerable communities seeking safety and stability.
Nani Mariani
forced to flee
for safety
tears …
If possible
be drinking water
without a father figure
kids grow
no light
Mama…
when do we go home
Neena Singh
mountain upon mountain
of summer clouds
cover the pine …
he sits on the garden bench
dreaming of his native sky
waves roll
crash against rocks
then return to the shore
the heartache of the refugee
stays with him forever
hordes of geese
honk by the lake
a refugee couple
walk together in silence
their thoughts far away
Tuyet Van Do
cramming
like sardines
they
head out to sea
searching for freedom
crisp cold winter
in summer clothes
they reach foreign land
a place
they now call home
Rupa Anand
the days get longer
as a family digs through
debris & mud
tattered bed sheets as walls
and a tarpaulin roof . . .
after the war storm
a calm summer night
fireflies light up
the table with bowls
of borscht and smetana
[Ukrainian beet soup with sour cream]
Christina Chin
the man hastily
bundles up his family
boards the junk
—rucksacks
and working tools
tired out
longing for land
extreme fatigue
exhausted by heat
falls asleep
waking up
to a sudden bump
the boat hits
the sandbar
rough landing
Nitu Yumnam
leaving
for homeland
my empty backpack
full of gunshots
and bombings
cursing destiny
throwing stones...
in the ripples
a thud
why me?
conversation with dad
about difficulties...
through his voice
the strength he seeds
to soothe the storm
Lorelyn De la Cruz Arevalo
sharing
a cramped space
with strangers
now the only family
they have
the drums of fear
inside their chests
louder and louder
than their growling
empty stomachs
lost
in a crowd
of lost adults
the little girl comforts
her doll
Randy Brooks
so many newborns
didn’t make it
through the night
one donkey slips
into Egypt
empty cans of beer
along the shore
a father and daughter
face down
in the Rio Grande
locked up with all
the others
a little girl dies
lacking
a glass of water
Bonnie J Scherer
paying dearly
for a ride to freedom
turbulent waters
tumble the hopes
and capsize the dreams
women and children
relegated
to the boat’s hold …
batten down
the hatches
packed tighter
than a can
of unsalted sardines
the tinny vessel
springs a leak
Jennifer Gurney
There are refugees
From both the Ukraine and Russia
At my food bank now
I wonder what would happen
If they met each other here
Fleeing Europe from
The Nazi invasion and
Extermination
Jews turned to America –
Only to be turned away
Internment camps where
Japanese refugees on
American soil
Held hostage during a war
Not of their making
Debbie Strange
refugees
try to cross the border . . .
this tree well
lined with frozen bits
of moss and rabbit fur
Ram Chandran
treading in this new land...
vanished
into thin air
all those flowery paths
I have traveled thus far
as I watch helplessly
her boat drifts away...
on the shore
winds echo her words
'won't you come with me'...
every day
when I wake up
and look through camp window
a lone maple
holding a bit of hope for me
Kathleen Trocmet
mother changes
the doll's bandage . . .
wiping war from
her daughter's
face
war debris
dusts her hair . . .
she primes the pump
with the last of
their water
in a dimming twilight
mother lies still
under broken glass . . .
a string of whys
unanswered
Jerome Berglund
fluttering low
the sparrow
weaves
through narrow space
between the houses
where
are we going
little girl shouts
as father leads them
through traffic crossing street
glances left
glances right
on foot
not being run down
becomes full-time job
Roberta Beach Jacobson
collecting
socks and hats for the kids
all they want
is a new teddy bear
and maybe a hug
fires of war
surround the village
soon
residents must hike through rain
to reach a cluster of tents
his last
chunk of crusty bread
he hands it
to his crying sister
without being asked
Keitha Keyes
dangerous journeys …
too many refugees crammed
into leaky boats
destined for somewhere
where they won’t be welcome
joy in the eyes
of a teenage refugee
learning to play …
a carefree childhood
denied him in the past
easy prey
for people smugglers
refugees
risk their lives
in seas of desperation
Marilyn Humbert
no entry
says the government officer
how to prove
my name, my status...
lost when the bombs fell
detained
helpless to prevent
deportation
my error filling in
our visa application
in raucous chorus
the cockatoo flock wheels
into sun rise
how I envy their freedom
no one hears a refugee's voice
Chen-ou Liu
the cries
of wild geese north bound...
on both sides
of this winding border river
men and women with backpacks
rows of tents
behind chain-link fencing
and razor wire--
the boy flies a paper plane
into his sky of dreams
a roar
of the moonlit surf
men and women
in an inflatable boat
crying, AllahGodJesus ..
Richard L. Matta
the asylum camp
with kids’ drawings…
inside tents
a dad, mom or sibling
missing
refugee kids
scavenging for meals
their father
a professional once
wipes his tears
her painting
in a refugee camp…
the palette colors
in shades of
yellow and blue
Giuliana Ravaglia
ultimo treno
raccontando ancora
il profumo di casa
nei giardini deserti
il silenzio delle rose
last train
still telling
the scent of home
in deserted gardens
the silence of the roses
girasoli...
non guardano più
verso Est
fra curve di fango
mille profughi soli
sunflowers...
they no longer look
towards East
between curves of mud
a thousand refugees alone
Jon Hare
songbirds
leave the forest
homes upturned
and torn asunder
will they ever return
migrating
to an unknown country
unwelcoming
uncompromising
and uncaring
children
unaccompanied
preyed upon
working hard to make
our damned lives easier
Kathabela Wilson
sanctuary
for refugees
my mother's heart
all she ever wanted was
to build a peace center
Mother of Exiles
I always knew
it was my mom --inviting
strangers to our dinner table
nourished by her heart
Statue of Liberty
on the ferry 'cross the bay
I memorized the poem
where I learned the power
of what poetry could do
Siggi Saradunn
escape from terror
looking for asylum in Maine
no easy task
medivac flies low to land
she cringes in fear
young man of twelve
born the year the war started
joins his dad in Maine
life is different here
war time school goes on
refugees
sent to Maine
no accomodations
tired, hungry, confused
citizens rally to help
Timothy Daly
they give me
a new job
and
deny her
a visa
she cries
because her mum
is stuck in traffic
on the way to hospital
back in Bogotá
Sarah Das Gupta
Crammed into leaky boats
Dangerous currents
sudden fierce storms
hostile coast guards
watery graves.
Barbed wire barriers
great stone walls
fast flowing rivers
snowbound passes
No foreigners wanted
Children play in filthy mud
women wash clothes in dirty water
old men squat in squalor
girls face daily abuse
no chance of greater expectations.
Tracy Davidson
frightened children
cheered by Mickey Mouse
until...
the government full
of Disney villains
no welcome wave
to carry them home
survivors
swap unfriendly seas
for unfriendly shores
seeking asylum
unsmiling officials
with their rubber stamps...
the old man remembers
ones with rubber hoses
Antara
Heavy rains,
our one room refugee camp is a boat now,
and in my dreams
I sail
right up to our old door
Peter Larsen
war over,
living skeletons breathe
families gone
in camps without barbed wire
waiting for new homes
we leave Lodh
with suitcases, pots and pans
carrying our babies…
the soldiers tell us
there’s a camp near Jericho
go home, you say
where drug gang guns rule
maize dies standing
I’ve dragged my roots here
help me dig a hole for them
Mircea Moldovan
a little girl
and her wooden doll
count the stars...
in the camp fence
a dead sparrow
I'm a refugee too
says the grandfather
on a starless night
an unknown butterfly
shakes wind chimes
Tyson West
moonless night
rio grande crossing
pink plastic pool floats
our toddler’s princess tee shirt
flutters in cross currents
refugee center
speaks smiles but no pashtoon
our english sketchy
the pressing need to find
familiar spices
C.X. Turner
in my head
the sound of rain
silencing
a flight of birds
moving in the dark
dandelion
seedheads at sunset
wind-blown
all the wishes
she keeps to herself
we catch
falling leaves
along a path of echoes
leaving desolation
far behind
Genevieve S. Aguinaldo
countries discuss
the soundness
of escape plans
a child weeps
for his lost puppy
their last goodnight...
he keeps her ring
close to his chest
she writes his initials
on his water bottle
A.J. Anwar
tuning
retuning and retuning
that voice
an echo of foreign calls
of a robin I don’t know
an old exile
thanking with tears
at folk event
truly, even far away
home where hearts be
Buffy Aakaash
Not So Gingerly
these bold blossoms march
raising hairs on reddened necks
bearing truth of plunder
the fires of our forefathers
tall unbending heads ablaze
Arroyo
that chasm between us
formed by heavy storms
those seasoned passions
meant to be ours stolen
to open this divide
Mona Bedi
young mother
at a loss of words ...
what should
she tell her son
who his father was
refugee camp--
unbridled laughter from
the children’s tent
resounds in the aftermath
of the peace treaty
lonely in a crowd
lost without a map
a refugee...
his journey entangled
in the rubbles of war
Douglas j Lanzo
the wail of a loon
pierces through the moonlit mist
with unrequited calls
refugee camps haunted
by loved ones claimed by war
fading with sunset
a line of refugees
blends into next day
their humanity ignored
until the morning light
city’s last songbird
questions its loneliness
in the fog of war
between claps of thunder
civilians streaking away
Lakshmi Iyer
autumn leaves
the war strikes
once again
the refugees
homeless and landless
within
the boundary walls
in the refugees camp
a starlit sky
and some space to breathe
spring
autumn and now winter
even the seasons
leave no choice
but to strive and suffer
Hifsa Ashraf
the point where
I am left alone
river bends
and I move away
from my origin
train window
a refugee child wipes
the night fog
that blocked his view
of the stars
swirl around
the hollow trunk
autumn leaves
this urge to get settled
after displacement
Barbara Anna Gaiardoni
migrants
at the mercy
of the sea
it's more sadness
than guilt
It's where
you make the big trip
across the ocean
Sometimes I see pieces
of the future
Steve Wilkinson
fishermen
from Tunisia..
along
with the seabass
they catch corpses
boys
playing in the sea
off Tunisia's coast..
the ball they play with
lands by a floating baby
"no one cares,"
the echo of migrants voices..
in a refugee camp
a dead Syrian lies in the tent
unlamented and discarded
