An Irony Grabbed Me

Preface to Poetry: I wrote this poem several years ago when the injustice of immigration laws hit home. The irony of being a "citizen" of the United States of America is that all are foreigners or foreign born except Native Americans. They and only they have the right to ask anyone to go home.

As the new wrangling continues about immigration reforms, I went into my "portmanteau" and pulled out this poem that makes a mockery of "citizens" (what I call residents) harrasing those who are deemed not to be. America is a melting pot for a reason. Mitt Romney (whose great-great grandfather was an immigrant) stated that foreigners will be sent back to their countries of origin. Sean Hannity (whose grandparents--both maternal and paternal--were immigrants) is allowing himself to take stock of his ancestry. Republicans (who are still first generation, second generation, third generation, or fourth generation Americans) are finally agreeing that something has to change regarding immigration because Romney lost them the election. They are allowing common sense to prevail.
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An irony grabbed me

Rolled me on the floor

I kicked out, kicked out
The hilariousness of it all
Rolled me on the floor
I kicked out, kicked out

My eyes beheld a man

A first-generation American
Handcuffing the foreign born
Accusing the foreign born
Harassing the foreign born

An irony grabbed me
Rolled me on the floor
I kicked out, kicked out
The ludicrousness of it all
Your parents you are arresting
Did you know, did you know?

A second-generation American

Chasing foreign-born people
Demanding citizenship proof
Your grandparents you’re chasing
Did you know, did you know?

A third-generation American
Deporting foreign-born people
Demanding immigration papers
Your great-grandparents you’re deporting
Did you know, did you know?

A fourth-generation American

Instituted tough immigration laws
Passed merciless decrees, mandates
Enacting anti-immigration laws
To keep out those foreigners

An irony grabbed me
Rolled me on the floor
I kicked out, kicked out
The selfishness of it all
Rolled me on the floor
I kicked out, kicked out
The ignorance of it all

American residents pontificating

Had your parents been sent back
You’d not be here today pontificating
Had your grandparents
Been sent back years ago
You’d not be here pontificating
Had your great-grandparents
Been sent back years ago
You’d not be here pontificating
How far back would you like to go?

Ignorance and greed blind

The bridge you have crossed
On your way into America
You've demolished now that bridge
Future immigrants dare not come
For you have made it through
Into these United States

This land is not your land

This land is not my land
By any name you calll HIM
This land is God’s land
For all to fetch milk and honey
All lands are nature's lands
Greed erected borders and inhumanity
After crossing bridges and oceans

An irony grabbed me
Rolled me on the floor
I kicked out, kicked out
The avarice of it all

All are comers from other lands
All are usurpers in this land
This land is not your land

This land is not my land

By any name you calll HIM
This land is God’s land
All lands are nature's lands
Nature shall remain forever
When humanity is gone forever

--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.