on july 13th, 2013: George Zimmerman
a florida native with a history of violence
was found not guilty for the ****** of unarmed 17 year old African American boy Trayvon Martin claiming self defense

on may 8th, 2012 African American, Marissa Alexander:
a florida native with no history of violence
was sentenced to 20 years in prison for discharging a warning shot out of self defense from the wrath of her abusive ex- husband

marissa,
i often wonder how you felt on july 13th when you heard the Trayvon Martin verdict
did you feel the heaviness of invisible shackles weighing your hands and feet down like you had stepped into the 1600s?
did you feel a surge of anger burn through your throat like i did for you?

did you ask yourself if you should’ve continued letting your husband play picasso on you?
Letting your body be his work of art as he splattered blotches of black and blue making a tie-dyed canvas out of you?
because the jury treated the bruises you wore as if they were the plague
saying beware of a black woman who protects herself
it takes 20 years of solitary confinement to cure her of this disease

marissa,
are you afraid of the skin of bullseyes your two children were born into
knowing that society will use them for target practice every day like they did for you?

can you not sleep at night out of fear anytime your child pulls a hood over his head
that he is marking himself as sacrifical lambs to our legal system?

did you tell your mother the next day to burn your babies black hoodies
because on July 13th it was made known
being black and wearing a hood means danger
that being black and wearing a hood means you have a hunger for ******
that being black and wearing a hood means you have cosigned to a persecution?
and yet…we all seem to forget the ones in white that fit the same description

marissa,
i hope you’re starting to see America has OCD
wanting to color within the same lines, with the same two colors
segregating black and white
neglecting to realize that blood and blood shed never bleed out in the same two colors
just look at the crime scenes of Trayvon Martin and your ex-husband

marissa,
from now on when you bite your tongue while eating
don’t spit the blood out
leave it, let it settle, then swallow
and let it be a reminder of all the trayvon martins, all the emmett tills, all the james birds, and all the little black boys who died for standing their ground like you tried to

marissa,
i know you feel like god abadoned you
as if he stabbed you into the back and sent you on a suicide mission
but please
know you are my symbol of hope
you are my hero
the woman i wish to emulate and be
you are the one i pray for at sunday night dinners while holding the one hand of my black mother and the other hand of my white father
hoping one day america can sing free at last and actually mean that
hoping one day america can be blended and still be considered alright
hoping america will stop painting pictures in only black and white

My father.
Old sailor.
Old farmer.
Old carpenter.
Old interpreter.
Old archive of facts
And history. He knows
Our ancestory by heart down
To the 1600s. Born 1946, 68 years
Old today. Bought me my first pen,
My first book, taught me English
From the age of five. Told me I
Had the gift of language and
Expression. And that I was
A stronger boy than any
Anyone had ever seen
By the time I began  
To learn English.
I owe him credit
For every word
I have written.
Weak now
With age and
Bad lungs, I still
See him as a giant
Handling a chainsaw,
Smelling of forestry and
Gasoline and winter, smiling
At me with eyes deep blue from
Seeing more ocean and sky than I
Ever will know with my own.
His name to me is pappa.
After a few pints of his homemade
Wine, I sometimes let him beat me at Armwrestling. Then we laugh like
Old friends, remembering how
The roles were different back
Then. I am glad I stopped by
For a cuppa on this day. He
Would never ask me to.
Happy Birthday, pappa.

I'd cut a decade from my lifetime
To add a single year
To yours.

The Plague Wall system in
Provence was devised by
the local aristocrats in an
attempt to halt the virus
spreading from Marseille
where it began, northwards.
Despite not knowing exactly
what was causing it, these
stone constructions, many of
which are still visible, did
actually halt the epidemic.
That occurred circa 1600s.

                 <>
Poliomyelitis or Polio as it
is commonly known, was a
1950's epidemic in Ireland.
Back then, before a vaccine
was discovered, it devastated
the country and again, as the
plague, nobody knew what
was causing it. In hindsight it
is know known that the spread
was due to flushing of toilets
directly on to railway tracks,
hence permitting it to travel
from town to town.

                   <>

Today as I was engrossed in
Ulysses, an out of the box
thought occurred to me when
I heard the metal flap on our
door recoil with a loud clink.
What if, (was my deduction)
our postman was a carrier of
Covid - 19, Corona Post ?
With his ungloved hands and
runny nose on these frosty
mornings, he or she, could be
one of the main contributors
to this current pandemic.

Ps.

For example, I had to go to our
local Garda Station to have a
paper from the French Pension
office signed and stamped, to
prove that I was a living entity
for eligibility. Social distancing
at the barracks, was in evidence
and respected: But, when I handed
in my form via the glass window,
the Garda took my Biro to complete
his task as a state representative
during this lockdown isolation
period of vigilance and hygiene.

There is a curfew in my city.
From 8:00 pm to 5:30 am.
All must remain inside

Still, there is daylight
Still, there are protestors
Still, there is prejudice

Still, there is sorrow

There is a history of enslavement in the forming of my country.
From the 1600s to now.
All people who weren’t deemed “human” went from chains to prisons,
to being killed on routine traffic stops.

Still, there is daylight
Still, there are sirens
Still, there is inequity

Still, some ask why?