No one leaves home unless/home is the mouth of a shark.
June 16, 2018 9:47 PM Subscribe
The deeply-personal Home, by British-Somali poet Warsan Shire, has become a rallying call for refugees and their advocates. Listen to her read it.
An earlier version of the poem, Conversations About Home (at a deportation centre), featured an unusual typographical style. Watch her read it. [CW: sexual abuse]
Fear coupled with an intellect more bent on engineering technologies of destruction than empathy.
posted by coachfortner at 3:33 AM on June 17, 2018
posted by coachfortner at 3:33 AM on June 17, 2018
Thank you for sharing this. It’s powerful.
posted by probably not that Karen Blair at 4:26 AM on June 17, 2018
posted by probably not that Karen Blair at 4:26 AM on June 17, 2018
I wish everyone in the world could read and feel this poem.
posted by spindrifter at 4:46 AM on June 17, 2018
posted by spindrifter at 4:46 AM on June 17, 2018
I am feeling this, in every way. Thank you.
posted by adamgreenfield at 4:54 AM on June 17, 2018
posted by adamgreenfield at 4:54 AM on June 17, 2018
What happened to us, Plegmco(tm), is that every scream is heard. We've been doing violence to each other for as long as there has been an "us" and a "them". But we live in a time now where what happens in dark places can't be ignored any more. Be assured that these voices are heard now by more ears than ever, and there are more hands working now that ever to try and prevent atrocities, to end the ones that couldn't be stopped and to try and bring perpetrators to justice.
This poem would have been lost if it had been composed a century ago. Sixty years ago it may have been hidden till after the ashes of the victims had cooled. We can hear this voice now. We can hear the voice of its author and know immediately what it refers to and what crime for which it screams out for justice.
This needs to be heard. It needs to be heard and acted on, not heard and then given up in despair.
posted by Jilder at 6:24 AM on June 17, 2018 [6 favorites]
This poem would have been lost if it had been composed a century ago. Sixty years ago it may have been hidden till after the ashes of the victims had cooled. We can hear this voice now. We can hear the voice of its author and know immediately what it refers to and what crime for which it screams out for justice.
This needs to be heard. It needs to be heard and acted on, not heard and then given up in despair.
posted by Jilder at 6:24 AM on June 17, 2018 [6 favorites]
This poem should be screamed until our throats are bloody and the camp doors are opened.
posted by hapaxes.legomenon at 8:22 AM on June 17, 2018 [1 favorite]
posted by hapaxes.legomenon at 8:22 AM on June 17, 2018 [1 favorite]
Should have included the text of the first one, sorry.
Home
By Warsan Shire
no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well
your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.
no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.
you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied
no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough
the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off
or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important
no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here
(h/t Phlegmco(tm))
posted by Johnny Wallflower at 11:32 AM on June 17, 2018 [3 favorites]
Home
By Warsan Shire
no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well
your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.
no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.
you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied
no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough
the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off
or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important
no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here
(h/t Phlegmco(tm))
posted by Johnny Wallflower at 11:32 AM on June 17, 2018 [3 favorites]
I first heard about Warsan Shire because Beyoncé used her poetry for the visual album portion of Lemonade. Shire has an amazing way with words, cutting right through all our self-delusions to the heart of the matter. A very powerful voice.
posted by calyirose at 1:31 PM on June 17, 2018 [1 favorite]
posted by calyirose at 1:31 PM on June 17, 2018 [1 favorite]
.
posted by KleenexMakesaVeryGoodHat at 10:32 AM on June 18, 2018
posted by KleenexMakesaVeryGoodHat at 10:32 AM on June 18, 2018
« Older Beyond The Scene: BTS and the Korean Invasion | Henry Bromell: master of the one-hour drama Newer »
This thread has been archived and is closed to new comments
What the hell happened to us as a species?
posted by Phlegmco(tm) at 1:07 AM on June 17, 2018