I CAN’T BREATHE by Jesmond Sharples

I CAN’T BREATHE by Jesmond Sharples
Image source: This photograph was captured by the poet in Varenna, Italy during July 2019.




I can’t breathe...

       “.... even if I had wanted to...”

Racial brutality

chokes rationality.



I can’t breathe...

the ventilator is of no use to the patient,

money talks and the people are mum;

money toils and thought is comatose,

   and asphyxiated...

The capitalist greed in the burning of forests

   suffocates more than the opportunistic virus...



I can’t breathe...

   ”even if I had wanted to...”

    wealth has become affluent,

     the earth’s ventilator has been switched off

      and cut off its oxygen...



I can’t breathe...”

SpO2  is decreasing,

our face is cyanosed and pallid

   our lips are tight shut

and the evil RNA killer strip continues to reign

in a world of hypoxia and hypocrisy,

a world of amnesia,





 “I can’t breathe...”

   “even if I had wanted to...”




The trees shelter

those who seek refuge -

the cicadas,

the cawing jackdaws,

the man who chatters and jabbers –

The trees are mum.


Man has become deaf

to the forests’ lamenting and whining –

it is useless to plant and grow

what has already ripened.


The conscience is torpid –

The trees are mum.




I steer

away from stories

and fables...

   on my own.


The water embraces me

and protects me from

all chicaneries...

   on my own.


I drift and sail

in spite of the sun

setting into nothingness,

sinking into oblivion...

   on my own.


On my own.


I continue on my way

towards an eternal horizon

I desire...


On my own.


About the Author:

These poems are originally written by Jesmond Sharples who lives in Pembroke, Malta.


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the writer’s.