Black Lives Matters

Mamos Media

Alagi Yorro Jallow
George Floyd, the knee on his neck,
The groans, the begging to breathe. He died.
America, the land of paradox, land of opportunity,
A Land of threat where back lives do not matter
Where racism and political tribalism entrenched
The troubling obsession with political tribalism
The Constitution threatened by political tribalism
Where police bestiality
Police brutality is institutionalized
Where racism and race realism is on the rise again
And White Supremacy and political tribalism
War against blacks by White Supremacist
Genocide or ethnic cleansing of sorts.
Where blacks are falsely-Incarcerated
Racism against blacks. For one, it’s institutional.
In Minneapolis, the savagery of their claws
Are still profoundly felt in the blighted pores
Of negroes and all peoples of color
Long dead may be racial segregation laws
But lives, their ghosts still haunt and devour
All over America intact still is the ugly picture
Of a police system so racially flawed.
The latest victim was George Floyd
Intercepted for trying to forge
Crudely out of his car brought
He was from behind handcuffed
And to the ground pinned with force
Thus restrained already he was
To passerby that was so obvious
Arrest should have been the recourse
Were the killer’s law-abiding cops
But no, to death was George floored
His nose was on the cold tar rubbed
His face, against hard surface brushed
His neck, knee-pinned as he coughed
“I can’t breathe” he yelled to all
“My neck…stomach…everything hurts”.
He desperately sobbed and urged
Chauvinist Derek Chauvin refused to budge
Brandishing a grin implacably murderous
Tou Thao, one of the four killer-cops
Short in build, of Asian-American Blood
Kept a pacing watch, in sadistic pleasure
As George, “a lesser being” on the ladder of color
Was being of his humanity and life robbed
For help dying George Floyd called
As he struggled very hard to talk
Thirsty for water, he faintly called
Just like Jesus Christ did on the Cross
But the unyielding, applied knee force
In the end, he broke his larynx and vocal cords
Mouth silent, eyes closed, consciousness lost
He was pitilessly stretchered out of the world
The promise of equal treatment of all by law
Is a cruel joke, tragic farce or just plain false
A caged “black monkey” under police lock
Is a beast to be beaten, maimed and crushed
For this is the often forgotten historical lot
Of people of George’s race and status
In the hands of uniformed brutes and wolves
Posing as humane servants of the law
And though repealed maybe Jim Crow law.
Blacks are citizens who have equally helped build America.
With their sweat and blood
But laws have always been made
Whether as explicitly as slavery
And Jim Crow or implicitly to alienate
Degrade, dehumanize and Diminish them.
When black Americans were being gunned down or being Disproportionately imprisoned
Institutionalized police bestiality police brutality
Justifying a penchant for petty crime
This desperation is just painfully embarrassing.
Sometimes I feel to be black in America.
Is akin to a woman, in an arranged marriage
With an abusive husband.
With full knowledge that it is not true love
That formed the union.
But a forced facade of togetherness.
Never knowing when the abuse will come,
But always prepared for the inevitable smackdown
Acting surprised when the violence surfaces
while understanding
The relationship was built on violence.
I admit, I see, and am a product of it.
A land of opportunity where you can make billions
And be a billionaire, shooting a ball,
Singing a song, creating a business
A land of paradox, a land of threat,
Where you can get shot
Playing outside, wearing a hoodie,
Selling a cig, jogging in the park
As America’s reputation sinks
Lower in the exposure of its rot.

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