Best Illegal Poems
This poem was written after I took a tour of the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Wyoming, the site of Custer's Last Stand.
It was the year eighteen sixty-eight.
The U.S. government signed the Fort Laramie Treaty.
The Black Hills were to be closed to white settlements,
Preserved for the Lakota Indians
Forever, so long as the buffalo roamed.
'Forever' lasted less than eight years.
The eastern railroads needed meat for their track crews,
So professional hunters followed the rails westward.
Men like 'Buffalo Bill' made their living
Killing the buffalo for meat, hides, and sport.
It was the year eighteen seventy-two.
America celebrated its centennial.
Gold was discovered in the Black Hills,
And people in their thousands rushed to the west
Seeking fortunes and living space.
Most of them were immigrants to America
Fleeing depression and prejudice,
And ready to ignore the letter of the treaty law.
Towns quickly sprung up along the immigrant trails.
Towns like Deadwood - an illegal encampment
In the midst of Indian land.
People like Calamity Jane - an illegal immigrant.
Wild Bill Hickok - another illegal.
In the year eighteen seventy-six
The U.S. government sent the army to remove the Indians
From 'their land'.
Almost half of Custer's troops were immigrants themselves
From seventeen different countries
And two marked down as 'unknown'.
You already know the basic story.
The Lakota won the battle
But lost the war and their sacred Black Hills.
General Custer became a legend,
The Indian culture was 'civilized,
And U.S. history moved on.
History is full of ironies.
Custer, a hero for the North side
Winning battles against slavery in the Civil War,
Won greater fame by dying in a war to enslave the Lakota.
What's the lesson we should learn from all this?
Each of us standing here today is an 'illegal immigrant'.
We need to remember.
I climbed over trepidation
poverty's barbed wire night
torn by your prosperity
my one change of clothes
thirsting for a drop of civility
on a deserted desert road
Scorched by hell’s kitchen
fed to death’s desiccate dawn
I swallowed shards of sunshine
pride's perilous knives
for one chance to be an American
to provide for my family’s illegal lives
My eyes staggered with exhaustion
my ruptured lips too foreign to cry
I kissed a picture of my children
the withering smile of my loving wife
wondering if anyone would tell them
I died drinking liberty's light
This poem is a re-post from last year for the situation is worsening daily.
ELEPHANT’S GHOST
I am represented as a trinket on a
Human's wrist.
I was bought from a vendor,
Sometime last September,
I remember the vendor, he was,
Approached by a man in the street,
This man had stepped out of the shadows,
The vendor to meet.
The man from the shadows
Met with two other men
Their march sounded like military feet.
Money was exchanged, someone
Pointed to a truck down a lonely street,
The poachers knew
This deserted, but well known beat,
In the truck were the tusks of us all,
These despicable people had,
Gunned us down, and one by one,
Including me we met our fall.
Our tusks were hacked out,
Some of us not quite dead no doubt!
But I haven’t lost hope,
It isn’t too late,
To stop our bloody, grizzly fate,
Because a trinket made from part of me,
Means that humans can visibly see,
And then ask, for goodness sake,
Can we not try and end this heartache,
This horrible butchery,
With which we can all agree,
That, trinkets made from the tusks of
An elephant like me, never ever be sold,
And become the past, a history,
That will then only be told,
As a fairy story about wicked men
Who killed elephants in scores of ten.
Elephant proudly is my name,
Please stop this greedy killing game,
I chose to have my ghostly say,
And look forward to the day,
When elephant trinkets no more be made,
And for them be paid
In a sleazy vendors store,
Behind drawn curtains and a greasy floor.
I now can rest,
And feel blessed,
I appeal to all who hear,
For I’ve whispered in your ear,
Please be my mouth piece,
Try and make this madness cease,
Let us in unison say,
Poachers go away!
The hour of darkness covers many men.
They enter foreign soil illegally.
En mass invasion time and time again.
The problem is arithmetically
impossible to stop. Deportation
is just an empty word that represents
a losing battle across the nation.
Until we take a tougher stance, miscreants
below the border will invade the north
in droves. We must begin enforcing laws
to curb this exodus and thus set forth
our firm intentions: Stay away because
if caught your stay is brief my deportee
Su clase no se desea aquí!
a few years ago
i was walking from my car
to my apartment.
around the corner, i heard a skateboard
and sure enough, skateboy mcf*ckenstein
comes plowing around the corner.
the kid hit a rock or something and
beefed all over the sidewalk.
i approached him, and stated:
"if you vote for george w. bush,
he will molest your children."
now, almost thirty years later,
i am crouched beneath this mildew
enshrined bungalow,
curdling my teaspoons of
tequila.
if only skateboy mcf*ckenstein
had listened.
i don't think he was even old enough to vote.
such is the cruelty of fate.
An Outrageous Case of Illegal Immigration
By Elton Camp
We hear much about invasion from Mexico
But the U.S. northern border is the way to go
Aliens can, and do, cross with greatest ease
For proof, here’s an example of one of these
There is a man who comes and goes at will
He has done it for many years and does it still
Since he acts friendly and is always smiling
So, he is given an exemption from profiling
Though his appearance shows he’s not one of us
Without any doubt, he is some old foreign cuss
His strange clothes, thick beard and too-long hair
Show that he comes from somewhere “over there”
Oh, it’s true that he acts plenty generous enough
Friendship he buys by giving away valuable stuff
The government really should say, “What the heck!”
Since on private lives he makes a thorough check
Arbitrary standards of his own selection he’s set
That determine what, if anything, people will get
Should some foreigner ever be allowed to dictate
His own standards by which Americans he will rate
Should an alien establish what’s wrong and right
And be able to do it without protest or any fight?
Where is the outcry from the media or the press
Why is it this outrage they totally fail to address?
The employment he provides sure isn’t here
That he runs a virtual sweatshop is what I fear
According to what a good many people say
He accords his band of workers little or no pay
Since his manufacturing is done practically free,
To American companies it seems unfair to me
It’s unlikely that any tax this bad man does pay
For his workers, a union has nothing it can say
Worse, it is to our children he directs his appeal
To a foreigner their admiration and love to steal
Who knows just what his ultimate goal might be
Shall we wait passively and hope to finally see?
No! The time to take action is now well overdue
With these illegal border crossings we are through
Since it is well known when Santa Claus usually flies
The government should shoot him out of the skies
Drugs
Pushers
Scum of the earth
God help our youth
Death
old pond calm waters
Wind creates natural waves
stones cause illegal
If six years ago
had been today
...
would I be
the survivor or
the accused?
...
in Alabama state
...
technically
the baby had made
it to eight weeks
...
there had been
a heartbeat
...
if six years ago
had been today
...
after my partner
assaulted me and
the placenta detached
from my uterine wall and
my body wouldn’t give up
on the life dying inside it
...
in Alabama state
...
would there be a trial?
...
would I have to prove
...
it wasn’t my fault
...
he came after me
...
it wasn’t something I wanted
...
as he slammed my belly
against the deck
the table
the couch
...
the window ledge
...
if six years ago
had been today
...
would they
...
take into account
that I screamed
and I fought
as he didn’t stop
...
believe that I
did my best as he
pressed and he
pressed
...
in Alabama state
...
would it matter
that three and a half
weeks later when I
went in to hear it
for the first time
...
I left with my own
ripped in two
...
my breasts still full
senses on high
my entire world still built
on there being a
YOU AND I
...
if six years ago
had been today
...
would they intervene
when I try to deny
...
insist I get the procedure
to preserve my own life
...
in Alabama state
...
would I be given
the help
...
the hope
...
to make it to
six years from today?
Hers was a complete change of personality, moods, and friends
Her joyful happy self, turned rapidly sarcastic, mean, and secretive
Her eating habits changed; she did not need food any more.
Stopped eating with the family, painted her room black.
Threw her flute into the garbage. She had outgrown it.
Scoffed that she had ever been a cheerleader, calling them names.
Her friends stopped coming. She made new ones, they were in and out.
None stayed long. Just a few minutes.
Her family saw glimpses of her unhappiness as she ran in and out
Of her room, slamming doors, playing music, not doing her homework.
Her A’s and B’s nosedived into D’s and F’s, and she laughed about it.
Rapid distrust toward her siblings. Name-calling, which had never happened.
Stopped going to school until it was nigh onto impossible to keep up.
Sneaked out of the house at night; they never knew where she would be.
Left in cars with people she did not know. Parents blamed her friends.
It was their fault, not hers. She was their princess. She was perfect.
Secrecy became the norm. Her laughter became loud and ugly.
Her prettiness was gone; her hair was dingy. She stopped wearing deodorant.
Grandparents wondered where she was at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
They were given many lies from parents and her siblings. Everyone covering.
Not my child! They said when the possible truths were pointed out.
That does not happen in our neighborhood.
We are not that kind of parent.
Our child would never be an alcoholic or a drug addict.
The entire family circled the wagons,
refusing to join neighborhood barbeques.
The children were taught that the people at church
were do-gooders, and look-downers.
The children were taught that the neighbors
they once adored were now the enemy.
They were protecting the princess,
who seldom came home, sneaking in and out,
When they were asleep. Not in our family! They said. Not in our family!
The do-gooders and down-lookers were prominent at her funeral.
They had raised children also who had been lured into
the terrifying swallow-up world of drugs and alcohol.
They had so many stories; horrifying real life stories
they had never shared even though they had innumerable
opportunities at church functions and bar-b-ques.
Illegal Dying
On pursuit of greed
On pursuit of fame-
Gambling with precious life
Is no longer funny play.
We don’t guard ourselves
Marmon broke all bounds
Greed, flood gates opened
There’s a deluge
That inundates humanity.
We’re bait in water
Thrown by bungee jump
Into the deeper end
To bait wealth
With a piece meal
From our gullible hearts.
At breakneck speed
We travel, we pine
Barriers on the fiery way
Crumble under foot
That plods with might
Pulverising conscience
Under its deadly stride.
Expediency and experiment
Replace care and kindness
Egotism and hubris
Is a reflection on the mirror
To which we smile
Gloat and graciously spruce
With drab appetite.
We look to another
With an eye that talks
Questioning neighbour
How the hell he did it...
We don’t compliment
We enjoy commiserating
Dirges are our sweet songs
That titillates our hearts
Hymns are a discord
That is so insufferable.
Compassion out of windows
Is flung like a thief-
With a thud it lands
And held hostage
By angels of uncertainty.
JM
19th Nov’ 2013
GO, NO—STAY
Deport those filthy illegals, go call the cops!
But not the brown losers who are picking our crops
We won’t tell them to go
Who else would stoop so low?
And it would cause inflation in our grocery shops
Magical Malediction of Exasperated Want,
Passion Fruit splayed Eyes of the World
Are Cumming
For Christmas Charcoals
And Incinerated House Hold Pets
(Under Trees.)
Have you Gotten your Ticket Yet?
Don’t want to be left out
In the cold cold Ugliness,
Now Would’ ya?
Fragile, So Don’t try and Get away,
I’m Quite sure your legs and Arms and Dainty Bits
Would Chip like Glass and Bullets Dance
Or Truth be Told
And Told in Crass,
You’d m()uck
And m()uck
Your Last ‘n Chance.
“Boys jacking off in school toilets, by sight, know each other as agents of Galaxy X.”
But do you know? And know it slow? Oh Honey face.
Snapped room and strangely Flat,
Mangled inhuman Waiters of poison Smut.
Gather Round
Serving part and rest-stopTrays, Of, Larceny as
The New Citizen.
Violation of the Sanitary Code,
Squealing Certified doorways
Lead to Crack
(But not the Crack you Might think I’m talking of)
The Kind that Hides and Peaks,
The Kind that Speaks and Speaks,
Oh, Of! and About!
Those Long and Magical Maledictions
Of Exasperated Want.
Like Subtle brown Hairs, Revealed in harsh and Unforgiving Fluorescent Light,
And in short,
As you mother might say,
-I am The Hero-
-You Hate-
-thend-
Bluefin Tuna are listed as, endangered
because of illegal fishing, of global fish stocks
as eighty five percent, is unreported and unregulated
Overfishing of our oceans, has to be quickly eliminated
Bluefin are the largest tuna, and can live up to 40 years
and they migrate across oceans, and can dive 40 thousand feet
They are made for speed, and built like torpedoes
and have retractable fins, but they still end up in food tins
They are tremendous predators, that seek schools of fish
like herring, mackerel and even slippery eels
They have the sharpest vision, of any bony fish
but that doesn’t help, as they end up on a human dish
To be truly, fully present
Of consciousness and
answering why we are here,
These studies are a promising field of research
Yet by powerful backlash
research has halted
For severe depression and PTSD
Universities use micro-doses of psylocibin
Derived from mushrooms
It lowers stress and doesn’t
cause hallucinations
Follow up studies show dramatic improvement
of conditions not previously responsive
to conventional medications and therapies
This chemical is still widely banned
Except for a few controlled studies
Underway at accredited, renowned medical
and psychiatric departments
at major universities
When popular conventional
therapies prove ineffective
the 60’s and 70’s proved a fertile ground
for those seeking help
New age treatment called Primal Therapy,
When religious cults such as love Guru’s
Hare`Krishna mantras, Buddhist chants
of Nam-Myoho-renge-kio or being shakabukued
or Hollywood fix its— for anxiety’s
mental illness failed,
Came the psychotherapists
and the latest Primal Scream Therapy
new and experimental, so-called Hollywood therapists
took it to levels unimaginable and a bit too far
and should have never been licensed!