Strange Fruit Hanging in Gaza

In 1937 a Jewish man, not a ZioNazi, but a white Jewish man from the Bronx was shown a photograph that tore at his very heart and soul. For days he could not think of anything else except the horrific photograph and the event depicted.

The man’s name was Abel Meeropol (1903-1986), a musician, songwriter and poet who published under the pseudonym Lewis Allan. The photograph moved him to write a poem and a song he titled, Bitter Fruit … later changed to Strange Fruit.

Strange Fruit.

Southern trees bear a strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black body swinging in the Southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant South,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh,
And the sudden smell of burning flesh!

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

Shortly afterward he gave the song to Billie Holiday whose recording was heard by millions. The song was voted, ‘Song of the Century.’

A few days ago I saw a photograph taken in Gaza. A photograph so horrible that my mind doesn’t know what to do with it. There are no words to even describe it.

Then today I saw a follow-up photograph. A group of men climbed a ladder and using knives were doing their best to cut down the dangling mass of flesh. They had trouble cutting through the bone but eventually wrapped the mass in a blanket, cut away the final bits holding the mass onto a wall, and the blanket filled with the remains was lowered to the ground and carried away.

When I saw that video I immediately thought of Strange Fruit. I don’t think Mr. Meeropol nor Billie Holiday would mind my equating their song to this event. Because the massacre in Gaza is a mass lynching. This genocide is about racism, class, color, greed and violence.

Strange Fruit (Hanging in Gaza)

Gazan buildings bear a strange fruit,
Blood on the walls and blood on the street,
Brown bodies swing in the desert heat,
Strange fruit hanging from the walls.

City scene of Palestine
Torn bodies and a bloody mess,
Scent of fresh bread?,
And the sudden smell of burning flesh!

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

TJB (Forgive me Mr. Meeropol)

Burn in hell Israeli and American ZioNazis (Biden, Manufacturers and Congress)