A Sestina
by Lucille Gang Shulklapper
Dreams die in the blood of children,
embryos born from the seeds of sorrow,
the milk of starvation, the torture
of chains and broken bones, the searching
of scorched earth; of survival as the “other.”
Mother and child, deported, disappear.
A cancer-ridden toddler and his mother disappear.
The video follows the mother, struggling to free her child
from the chains that bind them to “others,”
to the brutal and inhumane soldiers, deaf to sorrow,
prodding them toward a military plane, after searching
naked bodies with naked hatred as prodding guns torture
the nameless, bent and broken, then pack them in tortured
positions, until the engines roar, the plane lifts, and America disappears.
Activists march in the streets, carrying signs of protest, searching,
their eyes and ears alert to the danger of their neighbors. Children
and strangers in their midst, yet unaware of pain and sorrow,
might be kidnapped, handcuffed, and thrown into cars with “others.”
As if on cue, masked men swoop down upon “others,”
targets of skin and color, a mother and three daughters, tortured
by HSI in their own home, left with smashed lives of fear and sorrow,
shivering in their underwear, in the rain, until the men with guns disappear,
leaving terror, and trauma cut with razor blades, on the backs of children
looking for meaning in sleep, and awaken to desperate searching.
Is there no end to a life whose desperate searching
leaves scars and barriers to block all “others,”
grieving as ICE hunts men, women, and children.?
The loss of deported loved ones enduring torture
affects human beings who mourn their disappearance,
and pursue justice in community and legal searches.?
Today, a Vermont man was not deported. Released from sorrow,
returning to his community which made, rehearsed, and researched
plans to release him, they acted to assure his reappearance.
Hope returns with him, to all of us in helping “others”
escape the lawlessness of criminals in their acts of torturing
“Illegal aliens”, the name given to adults and innocent children.
How much longer can children endure grief, sorrow, and torture?
Who will name these children? Why are they the “others”? Has justice disappeared?
The video follows the mother, struggling to free her child
from the chains that bind them to “others,”
to the brutal and inhumane soldiers, deaf to sorrow,
prodding them toward a military plane, after searching
naked bodies with naked hatred as prodding guns torture
the nameless, bent and broken, then pack them in tortured
positions, until the engines roar, the plane lifts, and America disappears.
Activists march in the streets, carrying signs of protest, searching,
their eyes and ears alert to the danger of their neighbors. Children
and strangers in their midst, yet unaware of pain and sorrow,
might be kidnapped, handcuffed, and thrown into cars with “others.”
As if on cue, masked men swoop down upon “others,”
targets of skin and color, a mother and three daughters, tortured
by HSI in their own home, left with smashed lives of fear and sorrow,
shivering in their underwear, in the rain, until the men with guns disappear,
leaving terror, and trauma cut with razor blades, on the backs of children
looking for meaning in sleep, and awaken to desperate searching.
Is there no end to a life whose desperate searching
leaves scars and barriers to block all “others,”
grieving as ICE hunts men, women, and children.?
The loss of deported loved ones enduring torture
affects human beings who mourn their disappearance,
and pursue justice in community and legal searches.?
Today, a Vermont man was not deported. Released from sorrow,
returning to his community which made, rehearsed, and researched
plans to release him, they acted to assure his reappearance.
Hope returns with him, to all of us in helping “others”
escape the lawlessness of criminals in their acts of torturing
“Illegal aliens”, the name given to adults and innocent children.
How much longer can children endure grief, sorrow, and torture?
Who will name these children? Why are they the “others”? Has justice disappeared?
Lucille Gang Shulklapper is the published author of five chapbooks of poetry, short stories, and picture books. Her work appears in journals, magazines, and online. She has taught reading from K-college, made recordings for the blind, and led workshops for The Florida Center for the Book, and others. Though she wrote from the age of six, she was never published until the age of 60. Three decades later, she has started an Open Mic Poetry Program for her residential, and assisted living fellow retirees. She lives in Boca Raton, Florida.
