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Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

Tag Archives: Unity

Border Tension Ends with A.U.

09 Monday Sep 2024

Posted by Bill Watkins in Border, Immigration, Latin America, Love, Poetic Blog

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

America, American Union, Border, Immigration, Joy, Latin America, Love, Mexico, Peace, Racism, United states, Unity

In the United States, there is a large historical force that denigrates people who reside or come from south of our border.  We so often look down our noses, but enlightened thought tells us we do so to our own economic and cultural peril.  So many missed opportunities to connect!  So many lies we tell ourselves to make us feel superior, even though any religious or moral code worth a darn will tell you that all human beings under heaven are one hundred percent equal.  How can the United States overcome its prejudice to see that what this Hemisphere really needs is an American Union?

Anyone who crosses the U.S./Mexico border knows the tension; with the right papers in your car, you might get stuck in a two hour line without a restroom, then get searched if you have packed the wrong kind of banana.  The folks searching are heavily armed.  On both sides.  You feel that if you misstep here, at minimum you will have a costly delay to your trip, at maximum a scary detention.  What’s the difference between crossing this border and the one with Canada or crossing between European countries, where you simply show your passport and move on?  What, if not racial or ethnic prejudice?

Currently, there exists a First to Third World divide between the United States and Latin America akin to a Western Hemisphere Apartheid.  That division, that exclusion… is as responsible for border tensions and immigration demand as anything else.  Instead of whining about our southern border,  the United States government could choose to recognize its unique position to help our Latin American neighbors, extend a hand, and end the economic, racial and cultural divide that inhibits the region, eternally damning it to isolation, tariff and prejudice.

The biggest critics of Mexico and all things South of the Border are often self-proclaimed White Christians, the loudest ones residing in the United States Senate and House of Representatives—folks who don’t seem to know the countries they judge very well, nor their people, nor their own religion.  A real Christian loves their neighbor as themselves, never judges, and even loves their enemies.  A real Christian doesn’t name-call, or look down on people who look different, speak different, think different or pray different.

Could this region get together, form a union in the European style with our neighbors to the south and north, open up trade, exchange culture, ideas, technology and innovation?  Mexico and Third World Latin America could help folks in the United States with humility, religious dedication and keeping the sanctity of marriage, while we help them build better roads, centralize their utilities.  They could teach us how to value elders, keep families close and honor ancient traditions while we lift them to First World levels of trade, commerce and productivity.

We can trade farming tips, while we build roads and train routes across our borders.  Develop an American Currency like Europe’s Euro!  From the Patagonia of Argentina to the highest icy regions of Canada and Alaska, we could be a unified force of countries with unique difference, bonded by proximity and the enlightenment that would surely come with such a positive change.  Borders would be more token, less toxic, its patrollers freed up to keep the peace instead of wasting our time with searches veering dangerously close to fourth amendment violations in every lane.

The only reason suspicion of crime, tensions and migration demand at the border are as high as they are is because of the division itself.  We fear, keep out difference.  We criminalize immigration and travel into regions we judge as worse than ours.  If there is anything worse in other countries, like decentralized gas power and weak electricity grids down south, let’s blame ourselves instead of the immigrants from those countries fighting their way into our First World.  There is a fight because the United States government, like others, hoards land it did not create.

So many people here call ourselves religious or Christian, but instead of loving our neighbors into the First World, we doom them to a Third World lifestyle that pushes them to our doorstep illegally.  Open up, United States of America!  Share! Let’s form an American Union!  Be the Christians we claim to be, watch the benefits to unification roll in, not least among them the absence of border tension.

Espanglish

01 Sunday Dec 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in America, Bilingual, Love, Mexico, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry, USA

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Amor, Bilingual, Borderless, Hermanos, Joy, Juntos, La Tierra, Love, Mentes Abiertas, Open Mind, Open Minds, Paz, Peace, Poem, Poema, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, Sin Fronteras, Unidad, Unity, Verdad

Mexico+USA Flags1

by Óscar Rodríguez
y Bill Watkins
*****************

Esperaba el día en que mis
pupilas te sirvieran de espejo
A mirror to remind us all,
from Trump to the Taj Mahal
Que sirviera de brida a tus
recuerdos para cabalgar hasta
ese viaje que fue el origen de
nuestro inesperado encuentro—
Estoy un poco perdido—
Brida es el freno que se pone
en la boca a los caballos
Okay, I understand now, you
want to go back to our own
personal pasado.  To the time
I jumped on a Guadalajara bus
with you; I watched your students’
play and we met as brothers
Esa noche hablamos largamente,
de nuestras naciones y sus lazos,
sin lugar para los desencuentros,
tú ojos azules y yo ojos castaños,
tú cabello rubio y yo cabello negro,
pero nuestros pechos latiendo en
hermandad naciente dos corazones
igualmente rojos
I Googled that, it’s beautiful:
“That night we talked at length,
about our nations and their ties,
with no place for disagreements,
you blue eyes and I brown eyes,
your blond hair and I black hair,
but our breasts beating in
brotherhood rising two equally
red hearts”

That’s poetry, it’s truth.  It’s
beautiful truth, the brotherhood
of all human beings despite outside
differences from looks to language.
What are national borders next to
love, open minds and Spirit?

Yo, mexicano, con olor a tierra
mojada y papel picado de colores
haciendo mariposas sobre mis ideas,
bebiendo el misticismo de una
mezcla de culturas y orgulloso
de mis raíces mestizas.

Yo, sin casa, hijo de Europa,
ladrón de tierra indígena.
I’m sorry, in English—I’m a land
thief without a home, Celtic and
Viking mixed with Roman, tweaked
on violence, conquest and murder.
(My passport says I’m “American”)

Pero esa noche los dos fuimos
ante todo humanos, hijos de una
misma América, respirando un
mismo aire que no respeta las
fronteras, un aire que no paga pasaje,
que no requiere visa, y que en ese
momento de cercanía era un
vínculo invisible, un lazo cósmico
que nos hermanaba.

Verdad.
Lo irónico… the ironic thing being
that we were brought together in
that moment of fraternity and
raceless, borderless friendship
on a trip sponsored by my father,
yes my dad.  No Spanish, no great
care for Mexico or indigenous roots,
just a white man of business,
reaping the benefits of his
own hard work, yes—

But of his race.  We stole land
and had slaves work it, called
that a country.

You met a recovering racist, sexist,
alcoholic land thief in 1995

Yo no ignoraba entonces que mi
nación perdió medio país ante
el suyo por la estupidez de mis
antepasados y la codicia de sus
ancestros, pero en mi universo
no cabe culpar a nadie por los
errores o los pecados de otros,
así que le llamé como quise,
y quise llamarle hermano.

Hermanos!
Brothers whether we say it or not.
Hermanos!
Words fail at times, so do ancestors…
Hermanos!
De la misma semilla,
From the same seed
No matter how many
Buildings built or guns shot,
Walls conceived, fears stoked,
yelling “puto” at the soccer match,
all our sins from fear or ignorance
or both. Hermanos!
To smile or joke, eternal life
in times with friends or brothers
like you, turning “homesick in
Mexico” into an open door, Family,
covering “usos de mamá,” maldichos—
bien dicho?

Te amo, chico—

Hermanos!

Más allá de los muros antiguos
como el que cayó en Berlín, más
allá de los nuevos muros nacidos
del miedo y la ignorancia, más allá
de la segunda enmienda y de las
armas, ahí estamos nosotros que
sabemos quienes somos, que
sabemos que el amor tiene los
ojos y la piel de mil colores y de
ninguno, que sentimos como laten
fuertemente, dentro de nuestros
pechos, dos corazones igualmente
rojos.

Pues, hermanos somos
Brothers are we, forged by
Love and need,
Not the politics of fake scenery,
walls of plastic and stone, metals
that forget the common seed,
neglect the students’ mirror,
our childhood dream to love
and be loved—
Youth inside us all, even Donald
Trump, boys and girls at play on
this Earth, in this life, on this day
Together.

y ahora , ya maduros, con el cabello
rubio y el cabello negro llenándose
de canas igualmente blancas,
más allá de las barras y las estrellas,
de las águilas calvas y las águilas
reales, de las serpientes, de los muros
y las escaleras, más allá del
Thunderbird y de Quetzalcóatl, de
los wendigos y los nahuales, del Día
de Muertos y el Halloween, del
guacamole y las french fries, de
las historias verdaderas y las oficiales,
más allá de todo eso estamos nosotros,
mi amigo, mi hermano, y te amo.

Abrazos para mi,
Abrazos para ti,
En la tierra sin nombre
Que es amor…

y como decía San Juan de la Cruz:
“Donde no hay amor, pon amor,
y encontrarás amor”…

Even on a bus to nowhere,
With an open mind and heart to
love, the child’s path calls us to play.
Family is there, the will of God,
Octavio’s Paz, the peace in making
friends.

y si el tiempo y la distancia
no pudieron apagar la hoguera
que encendimos, si Cronos el impío
no pudo deshacer el nudo que
formamos con nuestros latidos,
Donald y su muro pasarán a la
historia como una curiosidad, como
una anécdota más en el libro de
las vergüenzas de la humanidad.

Donald?  Hah!  A nothing, really.
He is the tip of the racist iceberg,
infected, bedeviled.

Love is the answer, he and his kind,
of which I used to be a member,
need love, but sadly may never
accept it.

It’s the enlightened artist’s job
to share truth,
The enlightened person’s to pray
for others, help the sick. But
should they not want help,
we move on, heal ourselves,
win the fight over our own demons
to shine as a beacon to the
hopeless and homeless.

Los verdaderos artistas no
aceptamos las fronteras ni
compartimos la imbecilidad
de construir murallas, los verdaderos
humanos sabemos que la historia
va a poner a cada quien en su lugar.
Pobre don nadie, su cara va a
quedar junto a las de aquellos
tiranos que dice odiar.

Es fácil odiar a su enemigo…
Pero lo que ayuda mas este
universo es AMAR nuestro enemigo.
Perdonar… Por eso, invito Trump
a Boyle Heights para una horchata
y taco…

Así es!

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