Friday, September 11, 2009

September 11th, 2009

Today is September 11th. A day that for eight years now, is more often referred to as "9/11". I believe that it is not just on this day that we remember that planes hit the Twin Towers in New York and the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. It is not only today that we think about those who lost their lives and the emergency teams that gave their all at the consequence of their physical and emotional health.

I find it fitting to post this video. Here is folksinger, poet, and political activist Ani Difranco reading the poem she wrote in 2001. The poem speaks to the events that took place on 9/11 and is entitled "Self-Evident."


Ani Difranco reads her poem "Self-Evident" at the 92nd Street Y on 12/16/07

Self-Evident
yes, 
us people are just poems
we're 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
approaching hyper-distillation
and once upon a time
we were moonshine
rushing down the throat of a giraffe
yes, rushing down the long hallway
despite what the p.a. announcement says
yes, rushing down the long stairs
with the whiskey of eternity
fermented and distilled
to eighteen minutes
burning down our throats
down the hall
down the stairs
in a building so tall
that it will always be there
yes, it's part of a pair
there on the bow of noah's ark
the most prestigious couple
just kickin back parked
against a perfectly blue sky
on a morning beatific
in its indian summer breeze
on the day that america
fell to its knees
after strutting around for a century
without saying thank you
or please

and the shock was subsonic
and the smoke was deafening
between the setup and the punch line
cuz we were all on time for work that day
we all boarded that plane for to fly
and then while the fires were raging
we all climbed up on the windowsill
and then we all held hands
and jumped into the sky

and every borough looked up when it heard
the first blast

and then every dumb action movie was
summarily surpassed

and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
looked more like war than anything i've seen
so far

so far
so far
so fierce and ingenious
a poetic specter so far gone
that every jackass newscaster was struck
dumb and stumbling

over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable'
and on and on

and i'll tell you what, while we're at it
you can keep the pentagon
keep the propaganda
keep each and every tv
that's been trying to convince me
to participate
in some prep school punk's plan to
perpetuate retribution

perpetuate retribution
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson
in retribution

is still hanging in the air
and there's ash on our shoes
and there's ash in our hair
and there's a fine silt on every mantle
from hell's kitchen to brooklyn
and the streets are full of stories
sudden twists and near misses
and soon every open bar is crammed to
the rafters

with tales of narrowly averted disasters
and the whiskey is flowin
like never before
as all over the country
folks just shake their heads
and pour

so here's a toast to all the folks who
live in palestine

afghanistan
iraq
el salvador

here's a toast to the folks living on the
pine ridge
reservation

under the stone cold gaze of mt. rushmore

here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of
oklahoma city

just to listen to a young woman's voice

here's a toast to all the folks on death
row right now

awaiting the executioner's guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and
can only escape into their heads

to find peace in the form of a dream

cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood
royal son

who stole the oval office and that
phony election

i mean
it don't take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
jeb said he'd deliver florida, folks
and boy did he ever

and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 george w. bush is not president
#2 america is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz i am a poem heeding
hyper-distillation

i've got no room for a lie so verbose
i'm looking out over my whole
human family

and i'm raising my glass in a toast

here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter
planes

and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed
the river

and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
i dream of touring like duke ellington
in my own railroad car
i dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden
benches

in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face

give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll
yes, the lessons are all around us and a
change is waiting there

so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the
streets

and clear the air
get our government to pull its big dick out of the
sand

of someone else's desert
put it back in its pants
and quit the hypocritical chants of
freedom forever

cuz when one lone phone rang
in two thousand and one
at ten after nine
on nine one one
which is the number we all called
when that lone phone rang right off the wall
right off our desk and down the long hall
down the long stairs
in a building so tall
that the whole world turned
just to watch it fall

and while we're at it
remember the first time around?
the bomb?
the ryder truck?
the parking garage?
the princess that didn't even feel the pea?
remember joking around in our
apartment on avenue D?


can you imagine how many paper coffee cups
would have to change their design

following a fantastical reversal of
the new york skyline?!


it was a joke, of course
it was a joke
at the time
and that was just a few years ago
so let the record show
that the FBI was all over that case
that the plot was obvious and
in everybody's face

and scoping that scene
religiously
the CIA
or is it KGB?
committing countless crimes against
humanity

with this kind of eventuality
as its excuse
for abuse after expensive abuse
and it didn't have a clue
look, another window to see through
way up here
on the 104th floor
look
another key
another door
10% literal
90% metaphor
3000 some poems disguised as people
on an almost too perfect day
should be more than pawns
in some asshole's passion play
so now it's your job
and it's my job
to make it that way
to make sure they didn't die in vain
sshhhhhh....
baby listen
hear the train?


To learn more about Ani Difranco go to her website RighteousBabe.com, or her myspace page, her facebook page or her Twitter page.



Ani Difranco (aka "The Little Folksinger" as she is often known) created her own record label Righteous Babe Records in 1990 (at the age of 19) and has released an album every year since. She has collaborated with the likes of Prince, Maceo Parker, Cindy Lauper, Andrew Bird, Bob Dylan and more.

2 comments:

  1. i think that a remembrance of today should not be laced with your political ribbon...how can you remember those who gave their lives by simply criticizing the government. Those should be two poems. Simple as that.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dear Anonymous

    Thank you for your feedback. I suppose we disagree here.

    I think the poem by Ani Difranco speaks to more than just politics. I would also like to note that I do not remember those who gave their lives...or the 9/11 event as a whole by it's political aspects. I must say however, I believe that because there are indeed political aspects that accompany the event of 9/11, I can't help but think of that as well on this day.

    I am fortunate in that I did not lose anyone in 9/11. However, I think that there are some who have lost loved ones who recognize the political connection and feel anger and sorrow because of it. The political is often quite personal.

    I am sorry if I have offended you Anonymous. Again, I suppose we just have two different opinions on the matter.

    Thanks again for sharing your view.

    ReplyDelete