Strange Species
Sep. 25th, 2010 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyxelestiaWritten today between activities when I attended the Fullbright Leadership Workshop for the Student Task Force, the student-run subset of the Human Rights Watch organization.
Some Background On The Poem:
A bit of a ramble on the poem’s origins that English teachers always like to hear and lecture about when it comes to poetry!
So, first off, how it happened: The tents from Camp Darfur had little writings and messages all over them, and I wanted to add something to it. But then the poem became too long so that was a lost cause, and I continued writing anyway, because I’m weird like that.
This had some inspiration, actually, from the poem “Strange Fruit”, written by Abel Meeropol in 1936 to describe the horror from the photographs of the lynching of two black men in the south. It was picked up in musical form by Billie Holiday in 1939, and despite her fear of retaliation for singing it, the song became a regular part of her live performances. The song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1978. I had thought of that poem when writing this, and the descriptive theme carried across.
If any of the imagery is unclear, I’d be happy to clarify.
I’ve just heard of a new species
Have you?
They hurt each other and kill each other
But they help each other, too.
So much sorrow, so much joy
What a strange species they are.
To hurt each other and kill each other
The lengths they’ll go are far.
And even stranger, listen to this:
They help and they heal…but why?
Why would those who hurt also heal
At the cost of their own life?
It’s because of this weird virus
Called by faith, and love, and hope.
It’s really infections. In just minutes,
It can travel around the globe!
This strange species can fly and crawl
And will do so into jungles of stone and steel.
Where these species’ nests will burst and will fall
They help their own to rise and to heal
This species that attacks its own
Just because someone told them to
Torture and slaughter and butcher their own
They don’t ask; they just do
And yet these higher animals, these same creatures
Will hold their kin and share their tears
Even if they’ve led easy lives
And never had to share their fears
Neither do they question their cause
It is their life, their song, their calling
They carry this kin on legs and wings
And catch all that they can see falling
These odd shaped bags of bone and flesh
Powered by just a brain and a heart
They’re each so tiny, you’d think they’d be bigger!
But no – all they do is play out their part
With no looms they weave webs of bits and bytes
With no silk these nets save the weak
And help make them strong without hunt, without blood
And to heal more of those that were hurt, they seek
These creatures, they bring life and death
To hurt and to heal, they will go far
These creatures of such trials of heart and soul
What a strange species that humans are
Some Background On The Poem:
A bit of a ramble on the poem’s origins that English teachers always like to hear and lecture about when it comes to poetry!
So, first off, how it happened: The tents from Camp Darfur had little writings and messages all over them, and I wanted to add something to it. But then the poem became too long so that was a lost cause, and I continued writing anyway, because I’m weird like that.
This had some inspiration, actually, from the poem “Strange Fruit”, written by Abel Meeropol in 1936 to describe the horror from the photographs of the lynching of two black men in the south. It was picked up in musical form by Billie Holiday in 1939, and despite her fear of retaliation for singing it, the song became a regular part of her live performances. The song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1978. I had thought of that poem when writing this, and the descriptive theme carried across.
If any of the imagery is unclear, I’d be happy to clarify.
