By Fong Tran

Featuring Nam-An Hoang Dinh

August 19, 2011

Once upon a Vietnam War
single mother of three
left rice paddles and fabric patches
for dream escapes to land of golden arches
with babies on her back
she left on Oregon trails with no reset buttons
as she trekked through miles of
flooded land mine terrain
hidden camflouage of blackness in the midnight
she quietly evades the silhouettes of moons
and the ears of communist scouts
she dodges sky blotting dropped bombs

and circus flying gun fire from every direction

she finally have
reached oil rekey fish boats
that stuffed people under decks like stuffed sardines
marinated in salt water, urine and
tears of grown men
lost out at sea till the endlessness of oceans
starvation would eat at her body

water rationed to two cups a day
sickness would plague her children red
and hearts would implode
as she watched her youngest baby almost die
in her own arms

[Nam-An hook: Out here, in the open sea
The endless sky reminds me
Of what its like to be free
Through all the promises we made
To move forward and be brave
Through the tears
We’ll say our temporary farewells
And through the fear
We write all of the stories we’ll tell]

left landed and stranded on unmarked
Bataan refugee camp territories in the Philippines
made listen robotic English teaching earphones
that was more robot the teaching
made push medical syringes that we syringe
than medical
made shallow rice porridge that was
more poor than rice
8 months were never so long

but she finally
made it to America
ship wrecked in one room apartment cramped
with another family of seven
her 3 kids, her 80 dollars and her 1 hope

would be just enough for her to
make in these new alien lands
and 1 year later this woman
this mother
would have me as a son

her second generation son

[Nam-An hook: Misplaced, in unfamiliar sights
Lost but holding on
For everything that’s right
All the distance that we feel
Through losing sight of all that’s real
Finding faith
Wading through the tears of the past
Moving on     
Despite all of the endless contrasts ]

you see these stories
are one of many

that have slipped the

tongues of our ancestors

people that have struggled and suffered
political persecution push and refugee scattered
warfare bloodshed shot and splatter
Vietnamese people diaspora dispersed
Children of 2^nd generation lost unimmersed

we were given the privilege to walk the gold rich grounds of the America’s, Australia and Europe
we must come together to create social change in Vietnam
and we must not let up
our identities sometimes lost, conflicted, wavered unsure
but we must find foundation in our families hxtories
only then can we find ourselves

most pure

the legends of our people must not end
with the blood trail of parent’s sacrifices
but will flourish with the voices of the young
Ha long bay shores will the power of our movement

in their uptide
when we create solidarity across 5 continents in our digital uprise

so I ask you
when do we want
voice for the voiceless
power for our people

the little liberties that we take for grated
in our 2^nd homes

our first world lands

So I ask you now
Access now!!