"Remember, I am with you always to the end of the age" (Mt 28:20)


"The Brave Last Stand": Face That Launched A Thousand Protests

And then there was George Floyd the brave last stand
Face down on pavement, hands behind back, cuffed
Witness, aghast, 'What's your fellow man done?'
Armed and a pack but forgot they have heart
One kneels on his neck like it's there to nest
Bones writhe, mouth gape open in throttled breath
Deep guttural harmless cries neatly tucked
'Ecce homo', God not one more less plucked
Harsh and alone, groans, whimpers to one's own
Hoping one kindly soul would hear, listen
To poor man's soul pressing, begging, crying
'Am I so wrong so they can have the right?'


*

No one can imagine, it's happening
But contemplate being George. Who is he?
A man who bleeds or weeps like you and me
The child, a mother's love once had smothered
Eyes, throat, lungs, shin bones... feel them, do they hurt?
Brutal, vicious to pretend unbothered
‘I cannot breathe, please, Mama, please,' he prays
She that bore him once in a womb's embrace
Body prays, stiff unbridles surrenders
Earth's tender gut hugs deep to her bosom
Air, blood choke to hush... free like a Blackbird's
Song bellows out of this cage... pitch-black night.














by Fr. JM Manzano, SJ (Style mimics Poet Seamus Heaney's St. Kevin and The Blackbird)























THE FACE THAT LAUNCHED A THOUSAND PROTESTS (source: https://8thworker.blogspot.com) And then there was George Floyd the brave last stand Face down on pavement, hands behind back, cuffed Witness, aghast, 'What's the poor fellow done?' Armed and a pack but forgot they have heart One kneels on his neck like it's there to nest Bones writhe, mouth gape open in throttled breath Deep guttural harmless cries neatly tucked 'Ecce homo', God not one more less plucked Harsh and alone, whimpers to one's own, 'Breathe' Hoping one kindly soul would hear, listen To poor man's soul pressing, begging, crying 'Am I so wrong so one can have the right?' * No one can imagine, it's happening But contemplate being George. Who is he? A man who bleeds or weeps like you and me The child, a mother's love once had smothered Feel his eyes, throat, lungs, shin bones... Do they hurt? Brutal, vicious to pretend unbothered ‘I CANNOT BREATHE, PLEASE, MAMA, PLEASE,' he prays She that bore him once in a womb's embrace Body prays, stiff, surrenders entirely Earth's tender gut hugs deep to her bosom Air, blood choke to hush... free like a Blackbird's Song... bellows out of this cage... pitch-black night. /By Fr. JM Manzano, SJ (Style mimics Poet Seamus Heaney's St. Kevin and The Blackbird)
A post shared by Hail Mary Full of Grace (@world_record_saint) on

Comments

BACK TO TOP