A non-dance related post, but another form of expression to share. I wrote a poem, and my partner put my reading it aloud it to a soundtrack of sorts.
You can hear our collaboration here:
You can read my poem at the link (or just read on for it below):
They are flogging him now, maybe,
and if not now, for sure tomorrow.
50 times a day for 140 days because of words.
They are killing them now, maybe,
and if not now, yesterday.
2,000 dead the report said, in a massacre
that got mostly people who couldn’t run away fast enough.
I don’t know why. Beliefs, I guess,
learned from words.
They’re shooting each other now, maybe,
and if not now, last Friday.
4 young men dead, at the age we all think we are invincible,
Will we mourn less when we hear they were in a stolen car?
Do those words in the paper change our sense of a loss,
a loss of life? Of four lives?
They are choking him now, maybe,
and if not now last summer.
Weeks after independence day.
Does selling stuff on the street mean a death sentence now?
‘I can’t breathe’ were his last words.
They are shooting a 12 year old now, maybe,
and if not now, last fall.
Did you play with toy guns when you were a kid?
I did. And we said dumb words to one another,
and we never once got shot for real.
Monica Berini, January 2015
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