Poem of the Land

Hello everyone, my name is J.N. and I am a sophomore in the class Poetic Justice. What my class and I do  is that we talk about certain poems that have a political meaning in them. We talk mainly about politics, as well as grammer/poetic devices. We went to such places as Gwendolyn Brooks College Prep, and the Poetry Foundation to learn and relate more to these subjects. What my class and I did for an assignment was that we had to create a poem that was talking about a political subject that was important to us or had relations to us. Multiple people did such things such as mental illness, rape, school structures, and much more. The topic that I talked about was immigration, which I will explain later on why I choose it. Still, what I found hard about this poem was to construct with all the criteria. These include such this as poetic tools/devices, grammar devices, and symbolism. We also had to make it about 4 minutes long. Still, I hope you all read/enjoy my poem.

Now, before we go on, a little background. 95% of the poem that is shown below mainly talks about a girl known as Rosa Maria Hernandez, who immigrated to the US when she was three months old. Apparently, her family needed medical help for their daughter, and there was little to no therapies/medical center for her conditions in Mexico. The family had illegally lived in the US for about ten years until Rosa was taken in an ambulance and sent to a children's hospital at Corpus Christia in Texas. She had surgery for her cerebral palsy in which she had before birth. On her way their, she was stopped by border police. They allowed her and her cousin to get to the hospital, following them all the way to the destination.The surgery was a success, but immediately after  she was taken to Children's Immigration Center in which she is still held their to this day. The reason this was even consider alright with the general police was that this was in the Trump Administration in 2017, in which more than 40% of deportations have grown since his registration.

The reason why I consider this a fellony is that I had seen somewhat of an experience with immigration. Not neccerally directly, but with family members who I can't even say their names without the fear of deportation. My mother, has worked in the Hispanic areas of Chicago and has supported friend/close clients who have immigrated to the US for a better life. What is even worse is how she has even seen(as well as myself) with the effects of deportation, such as an US born child never seeing his mother away do to the fact that she isn't born here. I fondly remember one experience, in which my mother and I went to a friends home, and help with the cooping family members of a parent being deported. I will never forget the face of a good man who I knew, cry right in front of me because heard his spouse was being taken from him by the police. What was worse was that he couldn't do anything about it because of his own unregistration. Even if it is a small impact, I believe this poem is extremely important to who I am, and who my loved ones are.

Poem of the Land - By J.N.

I can tell you stories million to one,
Of how people see and laugh at me for fun
I can give you gifts or tell why “greater good” gave me birth
I can tell you how everybody sees me this earth
I can talk to you of all the things I see wrong, and what I see sad,
I can tell I’m the strongest eagle, and some see it bad

But today, I will tell you all a simple tale,
On how I once thought of promise and love to hail
Of how if you worked like you matter, your life could be less of bitter,
How if you listen to others, there be no true sinners.
The dream I wish, for what it seemed and for those who hoped for me
The dream that courtmen ripped to shreds, to make themselves feel more free.

A family, who wanted this dream,
A family crossed land and could have crossed the creatures of sea.
A family, that came great lengths to me,
A family, who struggled to live happily
They went to a this place,
Where I came to thrive

Blocked by a wall and told this continent it is it’s separate space
Since the orders of 65
They jump through the wall,
Remained unseen,
Knowing for their days, they would be look like insects that crawl
At the eyes of the law it seems.

The heat on their palms and hands,
Sensed like scorpions scavenging on the sand.
As they grew desperately to help
I heard a little angel who cried and yelped

They gained the help, and help was given,
Just like work, it wasn’t hidden
The family handle an ocean of heat
Where in their eyes, it was grey and bleak

But it became cool, as time went by
The girl grew, growing stronger inside.
Yet they knew the child’s hourglass was breaking
Her eyes were dimming, her color was fading.

She was taken into a vehicle with containers/bed seats, side in which she had fear to see.
They kept to hear the sound tick tick, so to hope the machine wouldn’t beep
As the vehicle path was blocked, screeched to a stop
Two guardsmen went to the door knock ,knock

Yet, even at her darkened time when the family was tame and prayed
The people who ancestors were into the same darkened shade
Told this girl she could not be here, for law is order
Yet their blood didn’t come here, and knew their rules were broken

For them, she was an alien, an desecration
A ten year old criminal destined for discrimination
Men of law followed her to the hospital, and went.
the ticking was gone to hold, as if the machines had slept

She was cured with ten medics and small swords
But then she heard knock knock, as if some waited for reward
But it was the guardsmen came, and heard the ticking sound out of touch
The guardsmen took her, like a trophy as such

The girl now waits weary and is wedged as the weary scale weighs on such truths
For one final knock, for what couldn’t be and what could,
They keep her hidden from the eyes out of the wall
Only show to those, the girl never knew at all

Soon people catch her story, fought on what to do
Some couldn’t react, with their ears being blown on why this is true
Other, tried to tell the story about the girl that people were in worry, and were hearing in a dashing hurry.
Headlines screamed; Border agents detain 10-year-old after emergency surgery

Like a hawk, the story flew to it’s pellicle
People were seeing it as despicable
Others argued it’s for the greater good
Law was order, and the way it be it should
They sneered if a snake slithers away, venom would turn true
They believe crows will come as building are splattered with nauseous red dew

In a world today, people hold onto their beliefs,
To the point where they think they cannot be deceived
If that is true, then why don’t you listen to others
If that is true, then why try to take someone away just because it makes you feel safe.

Now, I may ask you, who am I
Am I a hero or villain, for which for you to be upset.
Am I the something to get rid of, so that we go further.
Or am I something, for no things to win




Citations
Merchant, N. “US border agents detained a 10-year-old girl with cerebral palsy..” Oct 26, 2017

Business Insider. businessinsider.com . Web. Dec 3, 2017