Black Bodies (

Welcome me to the world of blogging in WordPress, still finding my way around it but I am sure its meant to be an interesting journey.

Found this short snippet on Ian Kamau’s self titled blog, very thought provoking and calls for an interesting debate. Black Bodies seems to be the song that caught my attention (not at all influenced by my love for poetry) .. Take a listen and read …

Black Bodies references the line in the song “Strange Fruit” by Billie Holiday (later covered by Nina Simone), specifically the line “black bodies swinging in the southern breeze, strange fruit hanging from the Poplar trees.” The bridge of ‘Black Bodies’ specifically makes multiple references to the song ‘Strange Fruit.’ ‘Black Bodies’ is an attempt to re-contextualize the lynching of black people, specifically black men. At one stage people were being lynched by racists simply for being black, now, in addition to the justice system, education system, economic and social systems lynching us (statistically black people are the highest represented in prisons even where they are not the majority, highest represented in terms of drop out rates, are large populations in poverty stricken communities and are often high occupants of what some call the ‘under class) we are also highly represented as victims of violence, gun violence specifically and often from our own community. Unfortunately I now know people who “occupy both sides of the trigger” and it has changed my perspective. Some I supposed would believe that this has only to do with blacks as people, an enormous and prejudice simplification of the problem that denies so many historical, economic and social factors as to be almost laughable, if the reality completely serious (but again, I digress).

3 thoughts on “Black Bodies (

  1. Reblogged this on Introspection and commented:
    Like playing with flame / kids are killers now their making a name / only some but our community it’s taking the blame / though the killer knows the blame is essentially his / most folks are unaware of who the enemy is / it’s distorted, whenever a life is aborted before its time / and our kind sure can’t afford it / still it seems that the dream of the streets won’t cease / but we know that blessed are those that make peace / guns make a mockery of the life we treasure / leaving flesh twisted like treble clefs in a measure / calling out loud screaming “love” we can’t say it enough now / we’re smearing our blood on the pavement / giving the same pain / making the same claims / living the same shame / killing to maintain / because we don’t trust we doubt first / a life without worth it’s prone to outbursts / so we’re still dying / only the killer has changed / Africans once in the waves the worth of a slave / now the dope on the street is the rope on the tree / and these guns are the box kicked from under our feet / the hate is not replaced it’s the fists in the fight / respect for life it’s rotting before it’s ripe / we didn’t chose these ghettos, favelas and slums / but it seems they made these Goddamn guns… for black bodies


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