With a Jewish religion and a German Queen,
Who has a clue where the Brits have been?
Mum’s clan were Huguenots,
Dad’s maybe Welsh.
Lots of Africans in our football teams.

Keep out those immigrants many do say,
Even those whose parents came from Bombay.
We’ve lots of patriots from Pakistan:
The younger generation, Brits to a man.

But some are Radicals I hear you say,
We should be sending them on their way,
Back to Asia where they belong,
To the tunes of a UKIP song.

So what is “British” we must ask,
For this is not an easy task.
Justice and Democracy I hear you shout,
Tiny islands with some clout.

Shakespeare, Beatles, Rugby Lions,
Churchill clapping foes in irons.
Let’s be glad that we are free
And settle down to a cuppa tea.
Paul Butters

The border to me
XUAN CARLOS ESPINOZA-CUELLAR·WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2015
  
The border to me is a constant anguish,
A big pause button,
Often in dreams I dream of Mexico as my lover
And he waits for me,
And waits.
The border to me is my grandma’s rosary,
She said she’d hold on until I could go back,
Until she couldn’t.
I recently found out that for years she’d scold my cousins for using my table games “he’s coming back, and he’ll ask for them…”
And she’d save t hem in her old, rusty closet.
The border to me is a big pause button,
I often dream of going back,
Who will I be then, when I hit play?
Who will I speak with to recover my grandmother’s prayers,
To collect 12 years of unclaimed hugs,
All the wrinkles and gray hairs I missed on her hair,
And every step I couldn’t walk by her.
But one day I will cross back,
In the middle of songs and candles I will conjure her spirit,
And I will look in the back of that old closet
Where she saved my table games
And there I will find her love
And her songs, her advice, her songs,
And the little pieces she left for me, hidden for me,
When she envisioned the day
That this pause would be over.

It was a lovely tree
Green like a meadow all around
Bark as thick as pine cones
Ants crawling without a sound
Covered by birds of a feather
Whistling chirping  to each other
The sun and moon overhead
Taking turns from one another
Yes it was a lovely tree
Peaking above white plumes
Always looking for blue skies
And room to grow for its blooms
But it wasn’t long in the life of a tree
That its branches held aloft
Birds that seemed of another sort
Sometime landing not so soft
The air around it was free
But not so much the tree
Though it thought it was
Only the wind could really see
As each new bird took its place
Each tidal pass could only sigh
As storms of horizon shadows gathered
But a bird will perch no matter who may cry
There are only so many leaves
There are only so many ways to live
And as each feather sought its own
The tree wonders how long it can give

Godless men wearing back
sit within blistering sun.
As they carrying their sacred book
soaked in an evil not from any GOD.  
And they some how get
**** **** ****
**** for God.
As they ironically tell the
world that it is
blaspheming.

Come and join us
or be buried alive.
Yes come and join us
Let us brutalize and castrate
your daughter your child.
And give your son a gun while
we go cut of some heads.
As we rip out your heart
with blood and violence.
And ask you to spit on all
love and humanity.
As you stand within your shaking bodies
you look into the eyes of your
wife and only see terror in
her heart.
You know that you must
RUN

Thousands of you are swept
like the dirt into the sea.
Mothers and Fathers crying as
children are lost and drowning.
Someones baby washed up like
drift wood or a log.
Cut all with razor wire
climbing caged out fences.
As a heart cry's I only want a
new family home I will polish
your shoes wash all your loos.
Please they scream we are only
human
Sorry I don't think anyone
is listening.  

Westerners wake up lounging
on their sofa belly's spilling
over their trouser.
Stomachs extended inflated
from just a little to much
extra seconds.
Looking on disconnected
at those who traveled risked
their lives even walked
a thousand miles.
And some how spill out with
their lager down their cheek
thieves  ****** and
lazy freeloaders.

And those who succeed to
find a new home some how
elegantly find a dignity
in being unwanted.
And those who failed their
perilous path trust in God
has left them homeless
As they find the west
also Godless.
As we with a cool glare tell
them go back to your guns
bombs your not welcome
here.
Stone face matter of fact
immigration explained
take your children back.
As we try to through them
back like babies into a dog
or snake pit.
SHAME ON US
for this frosty reception
and cloudy perception
I hold out hope for a
better conclusion.

Are migrants proud Australians?
Our nation based on immigration,
One polyglot meld of humanity,
To Australia show fidelity,
Our nation of peaceful tolerance,
People from Earth's shifting sands,
Living here in our Great Southern Land,
Deployment should not be our dance,
Nothing wrong with loyalty,
Patriotism our children's legacy,
---Great Southern Land,
All welcome to be Australians!

A flag of a distant island
On the wall of a "home"
Made on a compound
An immigrant family
A mother trying hard
To grasp the sands
Slipping through
the hands of time
As the children prides
Themselves
On the fading memory
Of a language spoken
In a far away land...

Poema Code Switching
By Aylin Soto-Aleman, Mercedes Caballero, Jesus Martinez, Marta Silva, Alex Alejandre
16.4.15

El final de una etapa
The end,
The beginning of a new journey
un camino
A un mundo extranjero
Un deseo, un sueño
A dream
Haciendo mi propio path
un camino
rostros nuevos , new failures
historias nuevas , new experiences
a sequel to my story, con hojas rotas
y mojadas    


INMIGRACION

La memoria es un salto
entre continentes
crossing invisible borders
swimming in the rios
corriendo debajo del sol

La memoria es los abuelitos
ancestors cooking arroz y frijoles,
flan, driving through for hamburgers,
popcorn, sipping on horchata
Basilica
No todo lo que brilla es oro
not all rainbows and butterflies,
Clarita y sus cien años
Ruben y sus Tacos del Camino Real
El rancho
Midnight movies
Quiero a quien me quiera
It’s been a long day, without you my friend
Mexicanos al grito de guerra
Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
Tepechitlan, Jerecuaro, Guanajuato
Long Beach, Argentine, KCK,
Chihuahua,
A Distance Between Us
El puente, the bridge.
Three Little Pigs en casa, at home,
don't step out marranitos,
la llorona te va a llevar

Memory is a leap
between continents
Cruzando fronteras invisibles,
Nadando en los rivers
Running under the sun

Born in different places
Pero las mismas intenciones

Nobody heard them, the 900,
But still they lay screaming.
We were much further out than they were,
And not waving but drowning.

Poor migrants, lured to a better life –
Now they’re dead.
It must have been too hot for them
In Gambia, Senegal, Syria, they said,

Oh no no no, it was too hot always,
Still, the stranded ones lay screaming.
We were much further out than they were,
And not waving but drowning.