black 47, oil on canvas, 8x10in, 2012
It was not what they called it
For the latter is born from nature
And therefore not man made.
This was man made-
In fact an attempt by non natives
To end a race via genocide.
Thousands upon thousands dead
Thousands upon thousands forced
Into exile across the globe.
And for what- four green fields
Whose produce was exported
As men, women, and children starved.
Of course the potato was blighted
But corn and other produce left our
Shores while inhumanity was confirmed.
For the latter is born from nature
And therefore not man made.
This was man made-
In fact an attempt by non natives
To end a race via genocide.
Thousands upon thousands dead
Thousands upon thousands forced
Into exile across the globe.
And for what- four green fields
Whose produce was exported
As men, women, and children starved.
Of course the potato was blighted
But corn and other produce left our
Shores while inhumanity was confirmed.
Liam ó Comáin
Jan, I love the soulfulness of this piece, and the accompanying poem. My father's mother was Irish with the last name Walsh. I visited her grave in Illinois a month ago. Your painting reflects the desperation of the times and the depth of sorrow and the glint of hope in the wet light. I am eager to see more!
ReplyDeleteSuch a terrible sadness when man's inhumanity to man is so potent. A dark and moody piece and after reading the poem and returning to the painting, I admit to tears. I have a mixed heritage - but all have one thing in common: powerful Europeans and early Americans tried to kill them all off as if they were biting mosquitoes, something to fear and to hate at the same time.
ReplyDeleteKatherine and Rhonda your words resonate what I am learning-the more I read the more thier suffering-unessesary -is affecting me -and humbles me in how little I knew of this and how things like this are going on all over the world-while food is being shipped out to the highest bidders the poor are starving-as you say Rhonda-as if they were biting mosquitos
ReplyDeleteA beautiful moody painting that evokes the pain and sadness of the goverment locking up the grain while the people starved. Very hard to understand 'why'.
ReplyDeleteHi Jan,
ReplyDeleteDelighted that you have coupled my poem with your beautiful painting.
Best wishes!
Sincerely,
Liam
(Liam Ó Comáin)