By The Last Boy In Line
Monday, June 29, 2020
Dear George Floyd:
Sincerely,
Monday, June 29, 2020
Dear George Floyd
Dear George Floyd
By The Last Boy In Line
Monday, June 29, 2020
Dear George Floyd:
Sincerely,
By The Last Boy In Line
Monday, June 29, 2020
Dear George Floyd:
Sincerely,
Friday, June 26, 2020
Thursday, June 25, 2020
In George Floyd’s Burial Shroud
In George Floyd’s Burial Shroud
By Beau Beausoleil
June 25, 2020
He rose
from his street grave
as a Prophet
His last words
became our first
words
“I can’t breathe”
And the
feeling is one
of terror
and suffocation
followed
by a rage
filled with history
We have raised
his burial shroud
above our individual lives
like a flag
And each day we
march under it
towards
this country and ourselves
By Beau Beausoleil
June 25, 2020
He rose
from his street grave
as a Prophet
His last words
became our first
words
“I can’t breathe”
And the
feeling is one
of terror
and suffocation
followed
by a rage
filled with history
We have raised
his burial shroud
above our individual lives
like a flag
And each day we
march under it
towards
this country and ourselves
Tuesday, June 23, 2020
George Floyd
George Floyd
By Terrance Hayes
The New Yorker
June 23, 2020
You can be a brother who dyes
his hair Dennis Rodman blue
in the face of the man kneeling in blue
in the face the music of his wrist
watch your mouth is little more
than a door being knocked
out of the ring of fire around
the afternoon came evening’s bell
of the ball and chain around the neck
of the unarmed brother ground down
to gunpowder dirt can be inhaled
like a puff the magic bullet point
of transformation both kills and fires
the life of the party like it’s 1999 bottles
of beer on the wall street people
who sleep in the streets do not sleep
without counting yourself lucky
rabbit’s foot of the mountain
lion do not sleep without
making your bed of the river
boat gambling there will be
no stormy weather on the water
bored to death any means of killing
time is on your side of the bed
of the truck transporting Emmett
till the break of day Emmett till
the river runs dry your face
the music of the spheres
Emmett till the end of time
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/06/22/george-floyd
By Terrance Hayes
The New Yorker
June 23, 2020
You can be a brother who dyes
his hair Dennis Rodman blue
in the face of the man kneeling in blue
in the face the music of his wrist
watch your mouth is little more
than a door being knocked
out of the ring of fire around
the afternoon came evening’s bell
of the ball and chain around the neck
of the unarmed brother ground down
to gunpowder dirt can be inhaled
like a puff the magic bullet point
of transformation both kills and fires
the life of the party like it’s 1999 bottles
of beer on the wall street people
who sleep in the streets do not sleep
without counting yourself lucky
rabbit’s foot of the mountain
lion do not sleep without
making your bed of the river
boat gambling there will be
no stormy weather on the water
bored to death any means of killing
time is on your side of the bed
of the truck transporting Emmett
till the break of day Emmett till
the river runs dry your face
the music of the spheres
Emmett till the end of time
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/06/22/george-floyd
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Dear Father's Day
Dear Father's Day
By The Last Boy In Line
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Dear Father's Day:
Sincerely,
By The Last Boy In Line
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Dear Father's Day:
Sincerely,
Friday, June 19, 2020
Dear Juneteenth
Dear Juneteenth
By The Last Boy In Line
Friday, June 19, 2020
Dear Juneteenth:
Sincerely,
By The Last Boy In Line
Friday, June 19, 2020
Dear Juneteenth:
Sincerely,
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
"Land of the Free"
"Land of the Free"
A Poem On The George Floyd Protests
By Loureen Ayyoub
Spectrum News 1
June 17, 2020
America.
Land of the free,
Home of the brave.
It is time now we listen.
It is time now we save.
Save the sanctity of our precious union.
And it can only start by eliminating the confusion.
America is bleeding,
But only a wound cleansed from the inside can truly heal.
Racism is a problem,
We can no longer conceal.
America is crying,
Tears of grief.
Sick of violence,
Playing on repeat.
We must acknowledge the pain of our black Sisters and Brothers.
The forgotten grief of black Fathers and Mothers.
Can you imagine losing your daddy simply due to the color of his skin?
That is the kind of situation we are still in.
Now just because you haven’t experienced,
The crime of police brutality,
Doesn’t mean it’s not a harsh reality.
And just because not every cop has hate in his heart,
Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be doing our part.
To cleanse the system,
From the inside out.
Because one too many threads of hatred,
Is what this is about.
America,
Land of the free.
Home of the brave.
It is time now we listen,
It is time now we save.
Save ourselves from the repeated trauma and stereotypes,
That have led to too many fatal outcomes.
And now we as a nation,
We must hear the drums.
The drums beating, resounding with pain,
A country crying out for something to change.
America,
Land of the free.
Home of the brave.
It is time now we listen,
It is time now we save.
Save ourselves from the sting of silence,
And stand peacefully against the perpetual violence.
Misplaced anger lost in looting,
Creating exchanges of senseless shooting.
Massive crowds risking their lives,
Fueled by passion and pain in their eyes.
Different colors.
Different creeds.
Together chanting,
For the needs.
The needs of justice.
The needs of love.
The need for a nation to rise above.
Conquering racism’s bitter roots.
It is now a time to plant new and fresh fruits.
So that one day, we can proudly and fully be…
The hopeful America
..Land of the free.
Embracing more moments of reconciliation,
Where cops and protesters kneel in humble prostration.
Because Love and Forgiveness will be the only key that works,
Strong enough to change our legal frameworks.
Just because we’ve progressed,
Doesn’t mean we’ve fully healed.
There is more to be done,
In order to shield,
Black lives.
Because simply put,
They matter.
And we can not afford,
Yet another heart to shatter.
So if we want to celebrate our nation’s glory,
It’s time we re-write Americas story.
Land of the free,
Home of the brave,
Only when we let
Love
…Truly lead
The Way.
https://spectrumnews1.com/ca/la-west/community/2020/06
/05/-land-of-the-free----a-poem-on-the-george-floyd-protests
A Poem On The George Floyd Protests
By Loureen Ayyoub
Spectrum News 1
June 17, 2020
America.
Land of the free,
Home of the brave.
It is time now we listen.
It is time now we save.
Save the sanctity of our precious union.
And it can only start by eliminating the confusion.
America is bleeding,
But only a wound cleansed from the inside can truly heal.
Racism is a problem,
We can no longer conceal.
America is crying,
Tears of grief.
Sick of violence,
Playing on repeat.
We must acknowledge the pain of our black Sisters and Brothers.
The forgotten grief of black Fathers and Mothers.
Can you imagine losing your daddy simply due to the color of his skin?
That is the kind of situation we are still in.
Now just because you haven’t experienced,
The crime of police brutality,
Doesn’t mean it’s not a harsh reality.
And just because not every cop has hate in his heart,
Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be doing our part.
To cleanse the system,
From the inside out.
Because one too many threads of hatred,
Is what this is about.
America,
Land of the free.
Home of the brave.
It is time now we listen,
It is time now we save.
Save ourselves from the repeated trauma and stereotypes,
That have led to too many fatal outcomes.
And now we as a nation,
We must hear the drums.
The drums beating, resounding with pain,
A country crying out for something to change.
America,
Land of the free.
Home of the brave.
It is time now we listen,
It is time now we save.
Save ourselves from the sting of silence,
And stand peacefully against the perpetual violence.
Misplaced anger lost in looting,
Creating exchanges of senseless shooting.
Massive crowds risking their lives,
Fueled by passion and pain in their eyes.
Different colors.
Different creeds.
Together chanting,
For the needs.
The needs of justice.
The needs of love.
The need for a nation to rise above.
Conquering racism’s bitter roots.
It is now a time to plant new and fresh fruits.
So that one day, we can proudly and fully be…
The hopeful America
..Land of the free.
Embracing more moments of reconciliation,
Where cops and protesters kneel in humble prostration.
Because Love and Forgiveness will be the only key that works,
Strong enough to change our legal frameworks.
Just because we’ve progressed,
Doesn’t mean we’ve fully healed.
There is more to be done,
In order to shield,
Black lives.
Because simply put,
They matter.
And we can not afford,
Yet another heart to shatter.
So if we want to celebrate our nation’s glory,
It’s time we re-write Americas story.
Land of the free,
Home of the brave,
Only when we let
Love
…Truly lead
The Way.
https://spectrumnews1.com/ca/la-west/community/2020/06
/05/-land-of-the-free----a-poem-on-the-george-floyd-protests
Monday, June 15, 2020
Dear Black Lives Matter
Dear Black Lives Matter
By The Last Boy In Line
Monday, June 15, 2020
Dear Black Lives Matter:
Sincerely,
By The Last Boy In Line
Monday, June 15, 2020
Dear Black Lives Matter:
Sincerely,
Friday, June 12, 2020
B for Breathe
B for Breathe
By Olive Senior
Pandemic Poems
June 12, 2020
It takes one's breath away: a man dying during a pandemic that
takes away one's breath, no ventilator, but one brave spectator,
recording
his last breathe, his need, "Please"
"Somebody"
taking a knee on the neck from men who from birth breathed in
tainted air, imbibed a foul history, burning crosses, still smoldering
"I can't breathe"
like the hot breathe of anger consuming the cities
that inhaled this before
this white heat
this burning sensation in the throats of
the numerous ones held down and
"Mama"
"Mama"
"I can't"
Come on, George Floyd, breathe in the timeless rhythm of Mother
Earth waiting for you, for all of her lost children, for justice
"I'm through"
"I'm through"
By Olive Senior
Pandemic Poems
June 12, 2020
It takes one's breath away: a man dying during a pandemic that
takes away one's breath, no ventilator, but one brave spectator,
recording
his last breathe, his need, "Please"
"Somebody"
taking a knee on the neck from men who from birth breathed in
tainted air, imbibed a foul history, burning crosses, still smoldering
"I can't breathe"
like the hot breathe of anger consuming the cities
that inhaled this before
this white heat
this burning sensation in the throats of
the numerous ones held down and
"Mama"
"Mama"
"I can't"
Come on, George Floyd, breathe in the timeless rhythm of Mother
Earth waiting for you, for all of her lost children, for justice
"I'm through"
"I'm through"
Tuesday, June 9, 2020
George Floyd's Last Words
George Floyd's Last Words
By The Last Boy In Line
Tuesday, June 9, 2020
"Please"
"Please"
"I can't breathe"
"Please man"
"Please somebody"
"Please man"
"I can't breathe"
"I can't breathe"
"Please"
"Man I can't breathe"
"My face"
"I can't breathe"
"Please"
"Your knee on my neck"
"I can't breathe"
"Shit"
"I can't move"
"Mama"
"Mama"
"I can't"
"My neck"
"My neck"
"My neck"
"I'm through"
"I'm through"
"I'm claustrophobic"
"My stomach hurts"
"My neck hurts"
"Everything hurts"
"I need some water or something"
"Please"
"Please"
"Please I can't breathe officer"
"Don't kill me"
"They're going to kill me man"
"Come on man"
"I can't breathe"
"I can't breathe"
"They're going to kill me"
"They're going to kill me"
"I can't breathe"
"I can't breathe"
"Please sir"
"Please"
"Please"
"Please I can't breathe"
By The Last Boy In Line
Tuesday, June 9, 2020
"Please"
"Please"
"I can't breathe"
"Please man"
"Please somebody"
"Please man"
"I can't breathe"
"I can't breathe"
"Please"
"Man I can't breathe"
"My face"
"I can't breathe"
"Please"
"Your knee on my neck"
"I can't breathe"
"Shit"
"I can't move"
"Mama"
"Mama"
"I can't"
"My neck"
"My neck"
"My neck"
"I'm through"
"I'm through"
"I'm claustrophobic"
"My stomach hurts"
"My neck hurts"
"Everything hurts"
"I need some water or something"
"Please"
"Please"
"Please I can't breathe officer"
"Don't kill me"
"They're going to kill me man"
"Come on man"
"I can't breathe"
"I can't breathe"
"They're going to kill me"
"They're going to kill me"
"I can't breathe"
"I can't breathe"
"Please sir"
"Please"
"Please"
"Please I can't breathe"
Friday, June 5, 2020
Dear Minneapolis
Dear Minneapolis
By The Last Boy In Line
Friday, June 5, 2020
Dear Minneapolis:
Sincerely,
By The Last Boy In Line
Friday, June 5, 2020
Dear Minneapolis:
Sincerely,