Calcination
With a stroke of my hand I open the dawn of a new world
The magnificent towers of our future is afire with truth
I want the wide American earth for my people
We are there, we are there
You cannot drive us away from our land with your hate and disease
Dissolution
Search for a plaque or a stain of blood—
The long walk to the Immigration booth
From San Francisco or L.A. on your nape
As you board a Golden or Metro taxi cab
With barbed-wire hiding the luxury homes
Separation
A border patrol runs through the middle
My tongue is divided into two
Drowning in a language that lives, jumps, translates
Words jumping out of my mouth
English of the funny sounds
Conjunction
It all cut me in several places
Living among blue-eyed dyed blond bombshells
Christened, Confirmed, Cathechismized
Understood, undenied, sacrificed to at any price
For first and second generation immigrants
Fermentation
People have been trying to kill me since I was born
The language inside you, says the man
You’re always inside me, a woman answered,
And me, confused about the flesh and soul,
At peace with the soul’s disregard
Distillation
Too late—these worlds already shrapnel in your brain
What’s wrong with me, Doc? There must be a pill for this.
Our sorrow Midas-touched. Napalm with a rainbow afterglow
I can say it was beautiful now, my harm, because it belonged to no one else
Because everyone knows yellow pain, pressed into American letters, turns to gold
Coagulation
I lift my lamp beside the golden door
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Glows world-wide welcome, her mild eyes command
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
A Note: This cento, or “found poem,” features works from mainly immigrant authors or authors of immigrant descent. The one exception is the last work I used, written by American-born Emma Lazarus.featured on the Statue of Liberty, which has historically been known as a beacon of hope for immigrants. I included two Filipino-American poets as a nod to my own Filipino heritage. I wanted to create a literal melting pot of culture and immigrant experience compiled into one poem and highlight immigrant voices at a time when xenophobia runs rampant.
For Calcination, meaning to burn and/or reduce to ashes, I used lines from “I Want the Wide American Earth” by Carlos Bulosan, a Filipino-American poet.
For Dissolution, meaning to dilute parts in fluid, I used lines from Filipino-American poet, Nick Carbó, and his poem “The Bronze Dove.”
For Separation, which gathers the thoughts and emotions of dissolution, I used lines from Salvadoran-American Quique Avilés’s poem, “My tongue is divided into two.”
For Conjunction, which is to find balance through new combinations, I used lines from Angela C. Trudell Vasquez, a Mexican-American, who wrote “Identity.”
For Fermentation, to reanimate the soul, I used lines from “Immigrant Blues,” a poem by Chinese-American Li-Young Lee.
For Distillation, to increase purity by boiling, I used lines from the poem “Not Even This,” by Ocean Vuong, who is Vietnamese-American.
And last, for Coagulation, which results in the “perfect” substance or elevated self, I used lines from “The New Colossus,” by American Emma Lazarus.
