Breathing while black

Is not something

I would wish on anybody.

Especially since we attack

Yet at the same time cling

To the idea we are equal and free.

We’re not.

Not when the knee

Of a white cop

Presses on the neck

Of a black man who beck-

Ons Him to stop,

That he simply went to shop

With his last twenty

From his lack of plenty

That the bill wasn’t a fake.

And, please, help me momma, for God’s sake!

God I get. Man I don’t.

He wants us to love all

But for some reason we won’t

We’d rather on all fours crawl

Fueled by the vitriol of hate

Than stand upright on two straight.

When will we learn

To our higher selves turn,

Look each other in the I

And see

That we

Are all the same,

That we all too, all too soon, will die?

That isn’t a pity. It is our shame.

You think he’s not your equal.

You think he should not be free.

Yet another black and white sequel

Where the victim takes a knee.


9 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Only Connect

The smell of onions on my forefinger, Faint, yet as strong as the cord uniting Mother with child, severed upon entrance Into this world, disconnecting us From the spiritual source of matter, Conjures

A Breath of Air

Imagine if our current President Took something immaterial for a change Like a retreat To a Buddhist boot camp Where he could not talk, Could not access electronics, Or anything Hollywood, Could not t

Quite Bluntly

I saw his visage reflected in rear view as he drove driving a chill over my entire being. His face was my own, the hair, cheekbones, eyes exactly the same but his alone as another image mirrored, meld