This gave me chills, I find it crazy that as I grow older and listen to more and more poetry, especially black poetry my silent opinions no longer feel solitary. Hearing this gives me hope that in this generation, in my generation people still possess the capability to express their true thought with sincerity. And still I feel a tinge of guilt because once I exit this screen I will forget.
+jamika holmes The generation coming forward, growing up as we go through and grow older as we are, will be a generation that will reckon any other. Incredibly accepting, and I sincerely hope that they will bring more change
"Shoot, you already forgot I forgot... " *fingers snap* That part was undeniably beautiful. I was so consumed by her words and performance that I did forget tHat she forgot... I just don't want to spoil it for anyone. (+)
loveurselv2 She's making the listener realize how easily they forget; the poem is about racism and how we forget the horrors of the past and present so easily. Earlier, she mentions she forgot her tongue, then gave us a string of imagery so that by this point are minds are nowhere near what she had been saying before- by calling us out on this, the audience suddenly feels guilty of all the forgetting she'd been accusing us of.
The line "we forgot colors are seasonal and this skin will fade too" gets me so hard specifically because she is wearing a white sweater and the contrast with her skin tone is so obvious. I'm sure that was not intentional, it was just one of those accidental but poetic moments. but in reality, I can't pick one line that hits me more than another. The whole piece gets me. After the first time I heard this, I didn't realize I wasn't breathing until it was over because all of a sudden I shuddered and started crying and took in this shallow breath and hit replay.
We forgot we were worshipping beings We forgot you, Black Jesus We forgot the king of kings We forgot crowns do nothing for kings But put weight on their heads And a target on their backs We forgot they tax our heads And put weight on our backs We forgot Sodom and Gomorrah were leveled By brimstone and divine judgement But Mississippi is still standing We forgot burning cities We forgot cities are still burning We forgot colors are seasonal And that this skin will fade too I forgot my skin Or perhaps, I just ran out of fucks to give We forgot that some kid's utopias Is a roof, that won't whisper the night To the sleeping bodies below We forgot bodies, sleep below We forgot bodies float, bodies hang We forgot barbecue postcard, strange fruit, and hooded men I forgot my rage, and the pulse it leaves underneath my tongue I forgot my tongue, and how it used to fit so perfectly in my purse Next to my womanly duties I forgot my purse, and my high heel stilts I forgot balancing is no longer an act When you're hiding behind imported hair, a downloaded smile And a voice trained to jump through hoops Force flames for your snaps in applause You don't get it Shoot, you already forgot you woke up this morning You forgot to close the faucet when you scrubbing That pot, that plate, that spoon, or your left butt cheek or whatever But you remember how that song goes, right? You remember how it went? You remember you wanted your grande chai tea latte with Three pumps, skim milk, light water, no foam, and served at A hundred and twenty degrees You remember how spiritual of an experience that was? I forgot why I wrote this I forgot if I was just ranting Or if I'd forgotten to close the faucet when I was scrubbing That pot, that plate, that spoon, or my tongue or whatever But I remember how this goes I remember how spiritual of an experience this is I forgot my heart, was a burning city Shoot, you already forgot I forgot my tongue, remember? We forgot, that some kids, walk past their utopias every morning Suburban bricks standing tall in proclamation of what statistics say They will never truly attain We forgot that some kids, try so hard To forget tomorrow is even coming We forgot that there were kids, smiling In barbecue postcards, next to strange fruit, and hooded men Or perhaps we never had any fucks to give, you know Sometimes I forget, how hard it is to remember
greyphantom100 during 30s America, the lynching of black people was a popular event amongst white people. They almost went to spectate it and definitely condoned it; some even went so far as to take pictures of hanging bodies to put on postcards and send to friends. Bit of a grotesque spectator sport. "Strange fruit" is a song by Billie Holiday that she sang at the end of every one of her live shows, which outlines the injustice in the southern states during this time. The hooded men I think are the KKK, who condoned and supported racial discrimination of blacks, hispanics, jews, etc.
greyphantom100 Also, lynching is the hanging of black people by a white mob. They were often strung up on trees by ropes, sometimes taken from jail cells by policemen who let it happen after being accused of crimes they may or may not have committed (remember, very few got a fair trial, as To Kill A Mockingbird outlines).
greyphantom100 history lesson over, my bad for rambling. does it make sense? i think this line outlines that children were willingly bought to these events and raised to see it as a justified or good thing
When she talks about "king of kings" she means people like Martin Luther King annd Malcom X, who had "weight on their heads and a target on their backs". They were our kings, and they were killed for it.
@@fragmenteddream04 read the comment under their comment. You are ignorant for forgetting poetry is for the interpretation of the individual. Only the poet knows what they 100% meant.
@@kittikattt ah yes, so "strange fruit" must also be something that is left up to the listener? I agree the the interpretations of poetry can be limitless, but only to an extent. At this point, it is plain ignorance. Straight from her website "Gayo’s work is influenced by her experience in the African Diaspora and celebrates the journey of a people dispersed".
Poems like this stir up this writing passion/inspiration in me so hard i just want to grab my pen and notebook and just write whatever comes to mind. And its internal physical pain.
I'm eventually going to end up crying from this video. I wish I could show it to the world. I wish everyone could understand and interpret her message. I wish that the passion she feels here could be instilled in everything we do with positive and wholesome intentions. I wish. I wish. I wish so much more than all of this but beyond it all I watch this video as often as I can. So that I will not forget.
I struggle every time I watch this. I discovered this 2 years ago. I discovered it again. And then now I want to forget it again, because everybody forgot. So why can't I? Cause it's too heavy to realize of humanities flaws. And if everybody wishes to live in the illusion, I choose to too.
I so feel your pain. I constantly want to follow in line and just forget and be herded like the sheep that the rest of society...but we can't sit down and take this. Not anymore. we have human rights like everyone else. WE DESERVE TO BE TREATED AS SUCH. And we have to demand it whenever necessary...
This was so deep, honestly it gave me chills. I am in tears. I am guilty of how easily I have forgotten the cruelty that history sometimes hides and it's always heart breaking to be reminded of how easily I forgot.
I have watched this video so many times I can recite nearly all of it, and still I find a deeper meaning each time I listen. It is truly beautiful and one of the best poems I have ever seen.
When I feel I could not be more grateful to have pressed play on this video, she continues passionately while her tears fall and suddenly my level of gratitude accelerates....
Watched it on TikTok and searched for it on TH-cam. Watching someone master their craft with such thought provoking content and then deliver it with so much emotion and still remain so regal. For me a treat. Thank you. Your voice is so appreciated.
As I get older I go back and listen to poems I heard as a teen and WOW it strikes way harder when you have more knowledge and experience .. wonderfully done !
If it were significant I would wish I could like the a million times. This is too beautiful and too beautifully/tragically given. It is too easy to forget the real world. And to beautifully tragic to look at it. I love this poem. Loyce Gayo, you have captured something and made it seen.
I cannot get this poem out of my mind. Sometimes I just sit there and begin to realize what she meant and weep. This is truly the best spoken word I have ever heard. Her voice is so beautifully powerful. I hope to one day have as much control in my voice. With every word she made me want more. The connections that were made were outstanding. This was truly beautiful.
Saw your FB comments, and Loyce, you most certainly do know what to do. This was a magnificent, naturally passionate performance of one of the best poems ever. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Forgetting the past horrors allows us to forget that some people are living that very past right now. This is a tragic, beautiful poem. The coffee line killed me. But, I don't understand the line, "smiling children on BBQ postcards beside strange fruit and homeless men"? What does that mean? Are they like kidnapped? o.O
she said, "we forgot there were children, SMILING, in bbq post cards. next to strange fruit and hooded men"...smiling is usually a word with a positive connotation, but in this sense it is extra creepy and depressing and that's why she says "SMILING" the way she did. because BBQ post cards refer to when the kkk and others would hang black people and take pictures while doing so. they would make postcards and sometimes even advertisements out of these pictures. STRANGE FRUIT is a song sung by Billie Holiday. "blood on the leaves, strange fruit swinging in the summer breeze" is talking about bodies being hung from trees. so she says, "we forgot that there were children SMILING...in BBQ post cards, next to strange fruit and hooded men" the hooded men are the KKK, the strange fruit are the black bodies hanging, and the children are the little white kids running around who didn't know any better. children only do what they are taught. well guess what, those children and their kids and kids' kids are still alive today. they are government officials and CEOs and Sheriffs and business owners, and they are racist, obviously. so it is important that we not forget what happened 10, 20, 50, 100 even 500 years ago because it is still relevant today.
She is referring to "Strange Fruit": a poem written by Abel Meeropol and sung by Billie Holiday about lynchings, the strange fruit being bodies hanging in the trees. There are pictures of children laughing and playing with these bodies in the background.
I wasn't sure why I loved this poem until I read the comments. That's how most of my art works., I don't realize what is means until after it's done, but when I do it is glorious.
the moment when a tear escapes, "I forgot my rage." is probably one of the best parts of the poem.
"You know, sometimes, I forget just how hard it is to remember."
Hit me like a city bus.
Gave me chills 🌸🌸🌸
Best fucking fucking part
"Crowns do nothing for kings but put weight on their heads and a target on their backs." This was just the beginning of this stunning poem.
This gave me chills, I find it crazy that as I grow older and listen to more and more poetry, especially black poetry my silent opinions no longer feel solitary. Hearing this gives me hope that in this generation, in my generation people still possess the capability to express their true thought with sincerity. And still I feel a tinge of guilt because once I exit this screen I will forget.
+jamika holmes The generation coming forward, growing up as we go through and grow older as we are, will be a generation that will reckon any other. Incredibly accepting, and I sincerely hope that they will bring more change
Poetry in your commentary ❤
Wow that's already a poem :D
it's amazing that she started crying during it and kept going.
She embodied the poem.
"Shoot, you already forgot I forgot... "
*fingers snap*
That part was undeniably beautiful. I was so consumed by her words and performance that I did forget tHat she forgot...
I just don't want to spoil it for anyone. (+)
could u explain that part?
loveurselv2 She's making the listener realize how easily they forget; the poem is about racism and how we forget the horrors of the past and present so easily. Earlier, she mentions she forgot her tongue, then gave us a string of imagery so that by this point are minds are nowhere near what she had been saying before- by calling us out on this, the audience suddenly feels guilty of all the forgetting she'd been accusing us of.
oh wow yeah i get it now. thnx. very powerful
"We forgot that some kids walk past their utopia every day." That was such a stunning line.
The line "we forgot colors are seasonal and this skin will fade too" gets me so hard specifically because she is wearing a white sweater and the contrast with her skin tone is so obvious. I'm sure that was not intentional, it was just one of those accidental but poetic moments.
but in reality, I can't pick one line that hits me more than another. The whole piece gets me. After the first time I heard this, I didn't realize I wasn't breathing until it was over because all of a sudden I shuddered and started crying and took in this shallow breath and hit replay.
this is still my favourite poem, 5 years on. it's unparalleled.
Totally agree!
I used to be obsessed with watching these poetries and today I came back to it and I cried all over again. It’s so beautiful
I'll forever come back to this poem and i won't stop reciting it as i listen to it. ❤
We forgot we were worshipping beings
We forgot you, Black Jesus
We forgot the king of kings
We forgot crowns do nothing for kings
But put weight on their heads
And a target on their backs
We forgot they tax our heads
And put weight on our backs
We forgot Sodom and Gomorrah were leveled
By brimstone and divine judgement
But Mississippi is still standing
We forgot burning cities
We forgot cities are still burning
We forgot colors are seasonal
And that this skin will fade too
I forgot my skin
Or perhaps, I just ran out of fucks to give
We forgot that some kid's utopias
Is a roof, that won't whisper the night
To the sleeping bodies below
We forgot bodies, sleep below
We forgot bodies float, bodies hang
We forgot barbecue postcard, strange fruit, and hooded men
I forgot my rage, and the pulse it leaves underneath my tongue
I forgot my tongue, and how it used to fit so perfectly in my purse
Next to my womanly duties
I forgot my purse, and my high heel stilts
I forgot balancing is no longer an act
When you're hiding behind imported hair, a downloaded smile
And a voice trained to jump through hoops
Force flames for your snaps in applause
You don't get it
Shoot, you already forgot you woke up this morning
You forgot to close the faucet when you scrubbing
That pot, that plate, that spoon, or your left butt cheek or whatever
But you remember how that song goes, right?
You remember how it went?
You remember you wanted your grande chai tea latte with
Three pumps, skim milk, light water, no foam, and served at
A hundred and twenty degrees
You remember how spiritual of an experience that was?
I forgot why I wrote this
I forgot if I was just ranting
Or if I'd forgotten to close the faucet when I was scrubbing
That pot, that plate, that spoon, or my tongue or whatever
But I remember how this goes
I remember how spiritual of an experience this is
I forgot my heart, was a burning city
Shoot, you already forgot I forgot my tongue, remember?
We forgot, that some kids, walk past their utopias every morning
Suburban bricks standing tall in proclamation of what statistics say
They will never truly attain
We forgot that some kids, try so hard
To forget tomorrow is even coming
We forgot that there were kids, smiling
In barbecue postcards, next to strange fruit, and hooded men
Or perhaps we never had any fucks to give, you know
Sometimes I forget, how hard it is to remember
I still find myself thinking about this poem and realizing what she means in certain parts and just sitting there basking in it for a little while.
This poem will be hard to forget
Her passion is incredible. I love her. Every word is amazing.
"We forgot that there were kids, smiling in barbecue postcards next to strange fruit and hooded men"
+Neru Akita can you explain this please
greyphantom100 during 30s America, the lynching of black people was a popular event amongst white people. They almost went to spectate it and definitely condoned it; some even went so far as to take pictures of hanging bodies to put on postcards and send to friends. Bit of a grotesque spectator sport. "Strange fruit" is a song by Billie Holiday that she sang at the end of every one of her live shows, which outlines the injustice in the southern states during this time. The hooded men I think are the KKK, who condoned and supported racial discrimination of blacks, hispanics, jews, etc.
greyphantom100 Also, lynching is the hanging of black people by a white mob. They were often strung up on trees by ropes, sometimes taken from jail cells by policemen who let it happen after being accused of crimes they may or may not have committed (remember, very few got a fair trial, as To Kill A Mockingbird outlines).
greyphantom100 history lesson over, my bad for rambling. does it make sense? i think this line outlines that children were willingly bought to these events and raised to see it as a justified or good thing
+Neru Akita thanks for explaining that. i did not get the strange fruit reference at first
When she talks about "king of kings" she means people like Martin Luther King annd Malcom X, who had "weight on their heads and a target on their backs". They were our kings, and they were killed for it.
No she wasn't. "King of Kings" I literally another name for God. Jesus was persecuted all his life.
You both have your own interpretations and both interpretations are good, but actually, only she knows what she meant! X
Carrie Murphy I Iove you! Someone with sense.
@@fragmenteddream04 read the comment under their comment. You are ignorant for forgetting poetry is for the interpretation of the individual. Only the poet knows what they 100% meant.
@@kittikattt ah yes, so "strange fruit" must also be something that is left up to the listener? I agree the the interpretations of poetry can be limitless, but only to an extent. At this point, it is plain ignorance.
Straight from her website "Gayo’s work is influenced by her experience in the African Diaspora and celebrates the journey of a people dispersed".
Poems like this stir up this writing passion/inspiration in me so hard i just want to grab my pen and notebook and just write whatever comes to mind. And its internal physical pain.
Go ahead! YOU and the world need genuine poetry, whatever it is and however it might look like to you or everybody.
I have listened to this for years and it still hits me every time. Just in your face honesty.
This poem remains one of the best poems to ever exist
Loyce is so talented. Just undeniable.
I'm eventually going to end up crying from this video. I wish I could show it to the world. I wish everyone could understand and interpret her message. I wish that the passion she feels here could be instilled in everything we do with positive and wholesome intentions. I wish. I wish. I wish so much more than all of this but beyond it all I watch this video as often as I can. So that I will not forget.
beautiful. To forget is giving permission for it to happen all over again.
+Janelle Booth ^^^^ 💯👌
I struggle every time I watch this. I discovered this 2 years ago. I discovered it again. And then now I want to forget it again, because everybody forgot. So why can't I? Cause it's too heavy to realize of humanities flaws. And if everybody wishes to live in the illusion, I choose to too.
I so feel your pain. I constantly want to follow in line and just forget and be herded like the sheep that the rest of society...but we can't sit down and take this. Not anymore. we have human rights like everyone else. WE DESERVE TO BE TREATED AS SUCH. And we have to demand it whenever necessary...
This is the most brilliant poem on racism ever written.
It's been more than a year since I first saw this video but I still think about this poem all the time. And I watch the video whenever I forget.
I do the exact same thing, some small piece floats into my head and then I rewatch/listen to it again and again.
Its been 3 years now...
This was so deep, honestly it gave me chills. I am in tears. I am guilty of how easily I have forgotten the cruelty that history sometimes hides and it's always heart breaking to be reminded of how easily I forgot.
I dont see how poems like these get overlooked smh this should be at the top.. well its top of my list
Why is this so heartbreakingly beautiful?
AMAZING. Her passion makes my heart beat a little faster. That was beautiful.
this poem strengthened and weakened me at the same time
I have watched this video so many times I can recite nearly all of it, and still I find a deeper meaning each time I listen. It is truly beautiful and one of the best poems I have ever seen.
I love her voice!! It's just so unique, and full of emotion
She reminds me of Viola Davis.
6 years and this is still so powerful and relevant
I do not have words to describe how incredibly beautiful this is
She took me to my first poetry slam. Love you Loyce
When I feel I could not be more grateful to have pressed play on this video, she continues passionately while her tears fall and suddenly my level of gratitude accelerates....
Wow. Wow. Wow. I'm a pastor and one of my youth sent me this. Now that's some gospel truth!
Each year, l come to pay homage to this piece. I have been doing that for the last 2019 years. I do this least l forget, how hard it is to remember.
every time i hear this i understand it a little better, and every time it touches me more deeply
I always find my way back here
Watched it on TikTok and searched for it on TH-cam. Watching someone master their craft with such thought provoking content and then deliver it with so much emotion and still remain so regal. For me a treat. Thank you. Your voice is so appreciated.
As I get older I go back and listen to poems I heard as a teen and WOW it strikes way harder when you have more knowledge and experience .. wonderfully done !
Possibly my favourite spoke word right now.
To know her is to know how beautiful her spirit is. My good friend, love you Loyce.
This is abs. beautiful. The passion that comes through, with her tears, and voice. It's wonderful.
idk how many times i've watched this but that burning feeling in my chest comes back each time.. so deep
Baby, you are crying. I don't know you but I will never forget you.
something about her voice and the way it sounds just makes this poem so much more powerful
Her tears are so deep.
Each year, l come to pay homage to this piece. I have been doing that for the last 2020 years. I do this least l forget, how hard it is to remember
If it were significant I would wish I could like the a million times. This is too beautiful and too beautifully/tragically given. It is too easy to forget the real world. And to beautifully tragic to look at it. I love this poem. Loyce Gayo, you have captured something and made it seen.
I don't think i've ever had a poem cut so deep... damn. This is everything.
I cannot get this poem out of my mind. Sometimes I just sit there and begin to realize what she meant and weep. This is truly the best spoken word I have ever heard. Her voice is so beautifully powerful. I hope to one day have as much control in my voice. With every word she made me want more. The connections that were made were outstanding. This was truly beautiful.
this poem changed my life, and does again everytime I remember it
still one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful poems I've ever heard, thank you Loyce X
Every time I watch this I get chills.
"But Mississippi is still standing..." I just fell in love.
I almost cried at the end. Beautiful poem
I will never get tired of watching this
She moves me to my tears! I forgot things and people I took for granted.
So original performance! In fact, she is not even performing, she expresses exactly what she truly feels that moment! Wow
"You forget I forgot my Tongue"
How can I forget this poem
I hope I never forget this
9 yrs late but gave me fresh chills..amazing words and act!
Saw your FB comments, and Loyce, you most certainly do know what to do. This was a magnificent, naturally passionate performance of one of the best poems ever. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I come back here often- seems fitting during a time like this. 🖤
This is so unbelievable and the way she delivers...incredible
i cry every time i watch this.
and i watch this a lot.
When shed the first tear, I felt the rest of the poem.
I just waited till the end to hear the tremendous applause! If I were there I would have applauded immensely! WOWOWOWOWA!!!
She got a standing ovation. I was her teammate that year and was in the audience.
@@arianabrown4308 and she deserved it 100%
The fact that she starts crying mid poem give it a hole other level and strenght
2017 and I still come back to this, and every time I forget I left the onions on the counter!!!
Still one of my favourite poems so many years later. Thank you Loyce.
New fave poem. New fave poet.
What a touching and thought provoking recitation from my fellow Tanzanian Poet!
Forgetting the past horrors allows us to forget that some people are living that very past right now. This is a tragic, beautiful poem. The coffee line killed me.
But, I don't understand the line, "smiling children on BBQ postcards beside strange fruit and homeless men"? What does that mean? Are they like kidnapped? o.O
she said, "we forgot there were children, SMILING, in bbq post cards. next to strange fruit and hooded men"...smiling is usually a word with a positive connotation, but in this sense it is extra creepy and depressing and that's why she says "SMILING" the way she did. because BBQ post cards refer to when the kkk and others would hang black people and take pictures while doing so. they would make postcards and sometimes even advertisements out of these pictures. STRANGE FRUIT is a song sung by Billie Holiday. "blood on the leaves, strange fruit swinging in the summer breeze" is talking about bodies being hung from trees. so she says, "we forgot that there were children SMILING...in BBQ post cards, next to strange fruit and hooded men" the hooded men are the KKK, the strange fruit are the black bodies hanging, and the children are the little white kids running around who didn't know any better. children only do what they are taught. well guess what, those children and their kids and kids' kids are still alive today. they are government officials and CEOs and Sheriffs and business owners, and they are racist, obviously. so it is important that we not forget what happened 10, 20, 50, 100 even 500 years ago because it is still relevant today.
Benjamin Beelman Thank you so much. Such a sad, but honest poem.
Yes it is. Thank you for your understanding :)
She is referring to "Strange Fruit": a poem written by Abel Meeropol and sung by Billie Holiday about lynchings, the strange fruit being bodies hanging in the trees. There are pictures of children laughing and playing with these bodies in the background.
Scary stuff, but meaningful. Thanks for answering.
So powerful. I've been listening to this over and over
When poetry becomes personal.... personal...
It SLAPS DIFFERENT
This..... This made me think. I really like her and I like this performance she gave. Her talent is an inspiration, really...
It's been years and this is still my favourite poem
Cold chills every time I see this. I promise I will not forget.
This poem always gets me...always..
for videos like this there should be a love button
This is my favorite poem of all time.
This one of the world's best poems and poets. How every word feels is amazing. And everyday am awestruck by this❤️❤️❤️❤️. Loyce Gayo✨✨✨
I wasn't sure why I loved this poem until I read the comments. That's how most of my art works., I don't realize what is means until after it's done, but when I do it is glorious.
Those tears are so real, oh my god, this is great!
That was absolutely stunning, I am in awe
I don't even know what to say in response....this is SO incredible
4 years later and still is one of my favorites
I keep coming back to this poem....
will always return to this. yowza.
sit down in your power house.
Heart-wrenching
Actually the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I'm so shook.
love this sister her poem is makes me remember who we use to be,carry on that spirit sista
I just listened to this like 5 times in a row. This poem is so freaking intense.
I listened to this in 11th grade over and over again 4 years later im back to it and im still astonished
This is food for thought in the highest degree.
This poem leaves me speechless. So powerful.
now this - this 3 minutes & 30 seconds - was a religious experience
thank you, poet
sometimes, i just forget how hard it is to remember : ) ... perfect ending of a stunning poem
It’s been 4 years and this poem still gets me every time I listen to it