By Ashok Bhargava

 Imagine a man named George Floyd pinned down onto the roadside curve by a hefty police officer sitting directly on his neck while he is begging for his life. This grown man asking for his mom, for water, for mercy once he realized he was slowly fading, being killed. 

His nose bled and he lost control of his bladder. Yet he remained trapped under the weight of the officer’s knee. In handcuffs crying because he could not breathe. Onlookers tried to intervene only to be threatened with pepper spray. Then he lost consciousness. The weight of that knee stayed firm while a first responder demanded they check for a pulse. They refused. The weight stayed on his neck. One of the onlookers, an off duty medical personnel begged for the officer to get up. They were watching a man being killed for almost nine agonizing minutes. Imagine dying that way. I think there is no crime that warrants this punishment, there is no justification for this death.

I feel sad and angry when I see another senseless loss of life at the hands of a police officer.  It’s time we standup for personal safety, respect and kindness for everyone. We must never give up to fight hate and evil with love. Remember the words of Dr. Martin Luther King: "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." I dedicate this poem to George Floyd.

Elegy to George Floyd

George Floyd, a 46-year-old man who died as a US police officer pinned him down, kneeling on his neck for almost nine minutes: 

  1.     I Can’t Breathe

my mind wanders to places

where a man is free to breathe

but here

under the color of my skin

 

‘I can’t breathe’

my neck pinned 

to a roadside curve

beg for life

under the knee of injustice 

 

‘I can’t breathe’

strange, how a moment can make

you utter

a thousand prayers

all at once, helplessly 

 

‘I can’t breathe’

lungs gasping for oxygen

I am fading, I am breaking

without dignity

squeezed by hatred 

‘I can’t breathe’

 

your force could not keep me

under your knee

life let me go

I am free

I am free to breathe

  1.     Aftermath … Fury and Frustration

whole night long

tempers flare

pain, hurt and anger 

flow with blood

protesters clash

fires rage

riots erupt

looters loot

rubber bullets fly

teargases explode

 

sirens shriek 

then morning comes

moans reverberate 

on the t.v. screens

‘I can’t breathe’ so    

do the victims of riots cry

‘we can’t breathe either’

Ashok Bhargava is a poet, writer and inspirational speaker. He is the founder of Writers International Network, Canada.