Sunday, January 14, 2007

Strange Fruit



Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

Here a is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Don't want you to think your musings are in vain, considering it's been up for 10 dayz. As a
'Holliday' fan, I recognize these lyrics. Not to go off subject...but I listened to a Christian station this a.m. on the way to work and re-heard the bible story of the Publican and the Tax Collector praying aloud in the Temple. The moral being that the heart is the gauge by which we are judged. It pointed me to the fact that 'there is nothing new under the sun'. Then a hip-hop poet was on another station with 'before there was word up now it is word down, before word was bond now the bonds have been broken'. He was talkin about how rap and hip hop have really just become tools to assist those who keep the masses (read 'Mantan') in 'a place'. The artist is Sekou, the place is L.A.
The truth is being heard, actions speak louder than words.
The Mantan mentality is 'everyman for himself and God for us all'. Dare I point out that this is not working for ANYbody.