Showing posts with label Genocide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genocide. Show all posts

Saturday, April 25, 2020

Alan Semerdjian: Children of Genocide (poem with music and video)

https://vimeo.com/407827624


GRANDCHILDREN OF GENOCIDE
Alan Semerdjian, In the Architecture of Bone, Genpop Books, 2009


The audio track, "Grandchildren of Genocide", is the first from a poetry and music collaboration between Vancouver-based guitarist Aram Bajakian and New York City writer/musician/educator Alan Semerdjian.

We think of bombfields and big when we think of genocide. We think of mass cleansing. We think in holes. We think the whole page. We think what’s under it, what they’ve been covering up. We think there might have been people
in those whole pages.
We think of chambers when we think of genocide. We think
of people crying. We think of people climbing. We think of people climbing and crying, crying and climbing. We think of both people climbing and people crying. We think in chambers.
We think in those horrible chambers when we think of genocide. Those horrible 20th-century chambers.
When we think of genocide, we don’t think of mountains and deserts. We don’t think of bazaars. When we do think of them,
we don’t think of young democratic people and pomegranates.
We don’t think of young democratic people with pomegranates
at bazaars when we think of genocide. We don’t think of them next to our grandfathers. We don’t think next to them.
Then there are young democratic people who don’t eat pomegranates and don’t think of genocide. We don’t think of them either.
We don’t think of them when we think of genocide, but we do think of moustaches. We don’t think of long and lovely moustaches,
but we think of moustaches when we think of genocide.
When we think of genocide, we think of families. We think
of faces of families, but we don’t think of birth. When we think
of birth, we don’t think about babies. But we do think of mothers.
When we think about genocide, we do think about mothers.
But we do think of mothers, but we don’t think of women.
We don’t think of women dancing.
We don’t hear the music when we think of genocide.
These things we think about and do not hear when we think about genocide.
And we don’t think of civil war as genocide. We hear about it. We don’t call in enough with such information.
We think about reconciliation, but we don’t
think about reconciliation when we think about genocide.
We don’t study the memorials, we don’t explain the play in papers, we don’t shake hands and make up. When we think of genocide, we do other things with our hands.


For the full album, please visit
amerge.bandcamp.com