In 2009 I posted a video of folk artist Ani Difranco reading her poem Self-Evident. The poem is a long one and eloquently speaks to the tragedy of September 11th, 2001.
I received a comment on my blog post where an anonymous individual asserted that he felt it inappropriate that I post a poem that speaks largely to the political climate of that time. To read this persons comment and my response, visit that post here.
I gently explained to "Anonymous" that the political is personal and the personal is political. I found the poem very fitting for the occasion.
Self Evident by Ani Difranco - Conversation with Anthony DeCurtis. 12/16/07
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? Below is another live version of this poem where Difranco is performing Self-Evident before an audience at one of her shows. At this time Difranco reports that this poem is a work in progress. The video is only audio however, YouTube user ProfessionalWidow83 was able to highlight words that Difranco had used to describe the thoughts behind this powerful poem. The poem is performed with more umph and intensity than the above video and that is why I am posting it here as well. I want you to get a sense of the gentile and a sense of punch.
Difranco starts with an instrumental which later became a part of a song called Serpentine.
"Work in Progress" (Self-Evident) - Ani Difranco at Carnegie Hall - Jaunuary 15th, 2006
Below are some thoughts put forth by Ani Difranco about the poem Self-Evident. These words are featured in the above video.
“It was April 6, 2002, seven months after 9/11, which in emotional time is more like seven minutes. The airline industry was tentatively resuming service and everyone I knew in New York was recovering from respiratory problems after months of breathing toxic air.
My touring since the fall had been affected by the climate of fear and uncertainty, in that audiences were sparser than usual and by mid-spring had only begun to normalize. For those of us who were out and about, during that time, there was only one thing to talk about, and no matter what degree of readiness or capability I felt on any given night, I was compelled to speak to the socio-political present from every stage. It was this social responsibility that fueled me to write the poem which, at the time of this recording was still called a “Work in Progress”, but would later come to be known as “Self Evident.”
I needed a tool with which to dig beneath the fear and sadness, into catharsis and transcendence and felt I owed my audience every ounce of focus I could muster as we endeavored to sift through the insanity and find ourselves and each other.
My writing that Winter bifurcated into two long form pieces, the other being the song/poem “Serpentine”. In this particular recording I can hear my nervousness increase. As I approach the point in the evening where I intended to lay “Serpentine”, and then “Self Evident”, on the audience. This wasn’t my first performance at Carnegie Hall – I had stood on that stage exactly one year earlier – but the feeling that night was as you might guess, entirely different. The déjà voodoo of returning to a time and place utterly transformed, inspired profound reflection and, together, all of us present took stock of what we had lost and what we had learned.
I will always remember this performance of “Self Evident” as being the most intense moments I ever experienced on stage. Midway through the poem someone began to sob on the second balcony, a sound that while it didn’t make it to tape was harrowing audible from where I stood. It was then that it really hit me. What did I think I was doing? The nerve of me standing in front of an audience of New Yorkers, not knowing who had lost what. A friend, a neighbor, a loved one…and dragging them from a fun night out on the town, back into the epicenter of their pain. I was terrified but resolute.
I finished the set, grateful as ever for the bravery and graciousness of my audience. And so, I offer this feral recording to you as no more than what it is: A snapshot of a moment, one of many moments in which I’ve attempted to heal. To all those who joined me (Who I joined) that night and forever more. I send a kiss and a hug. Always thank you. Always hello."
To learn more about Ani Difranco go to her website RighteousBabe.com, or her myspace page, her facebook page or her Twitter page.
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