The Poetic Political
Fumings of a Feisty Feminist
Making waves of change, one poem at a time.
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We refuse your tired and poor,
And those who yearn to be free. Discard your wretched refuse, And hopeful wannabes The homeless won’t find a home. Our lamp has lost its glow. The golden door is locked, With a sign that says, "We're closed." Her words have been forsaken, And ideals have now been lost. Suspicion, fear, and hatred, Transcend the tempest-tossed. Recently, Ken Cuccinelli, a top Trump immigration officer remarked, “Give me your tired and your poor who can stand on their own two feet, and who will not become a public charge." That evening, he said the Statue of Liberty poem referred to “people coming from Europe.”
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Thousands of people
Travel thousands of miles Seeking refuge. By train By foot Across deserts And rivers Dodging death. The flashlight of freedom Shines in their eyes As they are greeted By barbed wire And guns At the border entry. Put their name On La Lista Told to wait And wait And wait In Mexico For months Years Less than 100 Allowed in Each day To request asylum. Backed up Back log Back track Back home Back. Starving Scared Stuck Between life and death. https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/immigration/trump-restricted-flow-border-more-migrants-trying-sneak-through-undetected-n976356 Clutched within his arms
A father holds his daughter. A family seeking help Left to drown within the water. We turn our heads, We look away, We failed both of them. We did not see Their humanity. Oh, what have we become? https://www.cnn.com/2019/06/26/politics/mexico-father-daughter-dead-rio-grande-wednesday/index.html We’ve become the idiots
We’ve become the fools Do we really think it wise To let him make the rules? We fear one day our government May rise against its people Oligarchical oppression ‘Cuz it’s dangerous and evil. Our government spends billions On weapons every year Yet we think our guns will save us From political mutineer But our guns won’t do a thing To stop these massive weapons A feeble, foolish hope Towards governments’ transgressions. Yet we cheer on this same leader To build a bigger wall That traps us and contains us We’re the biggest fools of all. For if we ever need To flee this domination The wall would be our fall And end to our salvation. In more ways than one
The journey is dangerous Even more so for women and children. If she survives the train… And starvation… The heat… The cold… The rivers… And wild animals, Only to be greeted Into the arms Of a sexual predator. Hunted And Harmed By the Coyotes The Sheriff’s The Border Agents She is torn apart From the inside. In search of refuge She found hell. Women and children who try to immigrate to the US often find themselves victims of horrid sexual abuse/trauma. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/27/us/immigrant-children-sexual-abuse.html?module=inline Tired
Hungry Scared Walking. Captured And detained. Frozen from fear Held in the ICEbox Waiting for months. Wondering. Tired. Hungry. Scared. Trapped. Cold. Sick. Dead. ICE detention centers are called the ICEbox because they are kept so cold. Six children have died in border custody. This is “unpresidented”. https://www.businessinsider.com/migrants-detained-at-border-kept-in-freezing-cells-nicknamed-iceboxes-2018-12 https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-48375144 Their journey begins. One so dire, They risk their lives. Travel by foot and bus Until they reach “La Bestia” Clinging for their lives Starving for nourishment Dreaming of promises. They’re “invisible illegals In life and in death” Their tormented trail to triumph Is a “graveyard for lost souls” Only to become a mark, On a map, Of death. As we spend billions On a wall Instead of on people. Keep them out Keep us in. A contiguous cage of contempt. As I read the book, "Tell Me How it Ends" and watched the documentary "Who is Dayani Cristal" I learned about:
"The Migrant's Prayer": The journey towards you Lord, is life. To set off, is to die a little. To arrive is never to arrive, until one is at rest with you. You, Lord, experienced migration. You brought it upon all men who know what it is to live; who seek safe passage to the gates of heaven. You drove Abraham from his land, father of all believers. You shall remember the paths leading to you, the prophets and the apostles. You yourself became a migrant from heaven to earth. https://vimeo.com/136622440. Documentary “Who is Dayani Cristal?” La Bestia is deadly
A route the desperate take The thousand mile journey As they put their lives at stake To remain is not an option Death is at their door “The Train of the Unknown” When life is so obscure. “Go in alive Come out a mummy.” Is what the children are told Ride the train Hide in vain In hopes to avoid patrol. Forsaking their loved homeland Their families and their friends Survival is their goal The border is where it ends. As I was reading the book, “Tell Me How It Ends; An Essay in 40 Questions” by Valeria Luiselli, she spoke of “La Bestia”. As I began to research it further... a poem emerged. What have we become
Wishing death to those in need Then laugh as they lay dying Can’t you hear their haunting pleas? You say that you’re a Christian You say that you’re Pro-life Yet you cheer their deathly demise With passion that is rife. Humanity is buried ‘Neath your partisan politics You shout your hateful words As you hold your crucifix. I recently read an article about a Trump Rally where the audience cheered as someone shouted to shoot the immigrants at the border. I couldn't help but ask myself, "What have we become?" https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2019/05/09/shoot-them-trump-laughs-off-supporters-demand-violence-against-migrants/?utm_term=.7e407a9ff480 We’re shutting down on Christmas
We’re closing all our doors We’re building a big wall Built by our Army corps. Immigrants are banned Leave and go back home We don’t want you to pollute Our perfect white genome. Drugs, crime, and rapists Are all that you will bring Scream the red-faced yelling men From the panicked far right-wing. Mothers and their babies Are radical guerrillas Trained in special ops To be murderers and killers Absurd, you say? I thought so too But oh how wrong we are For the political paranoia Has gotten quite bizarre Tis the reason for the season To send those in need away We’ll call you names And throw you back Then sit at home and pray. "Build the Wall!”
We hear them call Eager enthrall A wall to install Lack wherewithal Ladder protocol Orange neanderthal Political overhaul I need alcohol. The faithful are the ones
Who abolished civil rights The President confirmed it This really should suffice. From separating children And locking them in cages Ensuring inequality For women and their wages. For those who seek our help We’ll build a bigger wall And if you are a Muslim There’s no entering at all The Bible touts forgiveness And loving one another But also stoning children If they disrespect their mother I guess it all comes down To which verse they choose to cite To guide us and our principles As they abolish civil rights. https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2019/02/07/trump-lauded-abolition-civil-rights-his-gaffe-did-not-go-unnoticed/?utm_term=.7c52cebb161e Melania is special We’ve known it from the start Eligible ‘cuz she’s pretty But not because she’s smart She earned her EB1 Visa From her talented ability To smile for the camera For all the world to see “Distinguished" magazines She posed for in the nude Gave her unique citizenship So deportation she’d elude. It’s quite a superpower. It’s a special force indeed When a 36, 24, 36 Is really all you need To get your citizenship And never have to wait Like the millions of others Who try to immigrate. Beauty has its privilege It comes with a big cup size And a fold out poster spread That appeals to all the guys. Fotografías de Melania para la revista GQ.
I mourn for democracy that has been wrought with presidential lies.
I mourn for my country that was once led with truth, justice, and reason. I mourn for my children who will grow up in the land of the caged and afraid. I mourn for my fellow countrymen, as we become torn apart by hatred and bigotry. I mourn as the “American Dream” has become a nightmare for too many. Tonight I mourn. Tomorrow, I fight.
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Poetry by: AsherahAlthough she was selectively edited out of the Bible two thousand years ago, she raises her voice for women today in hopes of a better tomorrow, as she makes waves of change, one poem at a time. Archives
May 2020
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