release

March 19th 5:15pm

Tender hopelessness.
Inner breathlessness.
By the time I caught up to freedom I was out of breath.

Future restlessness.
Tables and chairs, papers and - prayers
The earth is spinning slow.
We’ve made the forest suite “We”….
Headlines scream “Riots in Vancouver streets - 2010”

Tinseltown loses it’s sparkle as I turn heel each bleak street corner. The sky is grey; the air is still. A flutter of orange and man hits the ground hard. The rage of another man’s hands hold him there. All that I’ve been, has been a long time coming…I am becoming all that I am.

Headphones announce to the air We all want to be free as I pull them from my ears, pushing into the crowd of security swarming a single man laying pinned to the hard earth.

“O Gawd! O Gawd, please don’t let me go to jail for being hungry!”

His pain filled cries pierce the air around us.

Just let us be.
We all just want to be free.

At first my unheard, yet felt presence unsettles the wannabe cops, but soon I am not the only one who stops.

I stand in the middle of all that I have learned
All that I have memorized
All that I've known by heart
Unable to reach any of it
There is no sadness
There is no bliss…

Just a small spilled cup of yogurt - discarded by the way side. It is a forgotten memory. A memorable escape route that only is found by not looking. As onlookers gather.

To witness eyes wide six “brave” security men pin a solitary hungry human to the ground - born to watch a sin against humanity committed.

“O Gawd I want to die, don’t let me go to jail for stealing food!”

Set us free.

“Madam – you don’t have to watch this, he’s been subdued. It’s alright everything is under control…Maam you really don’t have to be here.”

If my breathe had a colour it would be the colour of pepper spray.

I stand in the middle of all that I’ve learned.

Exhaling, I plumb the depth beyond his eyes searching for signs of compassion; and breathe. “REMOVE YOUR FOOT FROM HIS HANDS. DO NOT STAND ON THIS MAN.”

As if to say, his dignity has been trampled on enough, I defiantly step closer, displacing their authority. Anger seethed as I gazed into each of their eyes, and demanded they remove their shoes from his body.

“I am not resisting.” He weeps, shaking and scared.

There’s always someone in the crowd that just won’t let us be.

Starbucks bitch spat coldly, “There are churches that you can go to for food you know.” The grime of cigarette stains tainting further the ugliness spewing from her mouth. She turns to me spitting, “Don’t you think he deserves this – he stole something!?”

No. I say solemnly, “No one deserves this.”

We all just want to be free.

Thanks to: Tranquility Bass, Saul Williams, and the universe for providing the sound track to my life. We all want to be free and Release played gently, like a quiet whisper, a breeze upon my cheeks to cool the tears, brought of the struggles we live and the struggles to come as I partook of all of this.