[poem] The Slave Ship (J.M.W. Turner, 1840)

I first saw this painting at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. Look closely and you’ll see things you’d rather not see, like floating limbs among the tumultuous waters.

The historical background is that, in 1781, the captain of a slave ship inbound to Jamaica—the Zong—ordered 132 slaves to be thrown overboard when drinking water was running low so that insurance payments could be collected, since slaves who died of natural causes were not covered by insurance. This incident went to court, and the trial that ensued gained wide public attention, building support for the abolition of slavery. Although the trial was deemed to be inconclusive, it was a pivotal catalyst in the movement towards British abolition and a moment that later inspired Turner to portray the incident in The Slave Ship. (wikpedia)

I once asked a close friend and mentor if we should hate anything or anyone in the world. His answer was evil, consistent with the psalm we chant during Kabbalat Shabbat—“אוהבי ה שנאו רע”—Let those who love God hate evil.”

I guess this ekphrastic poem is my way of processing this evil, and evil in general—that all too insidious force that can seep into our communities and societies if we’re aren’t paying enough attention—as we learn from political philosopher Hannah Arendt and the Torah in this week’s parasha.

Shackled limbs devoured by
Marine beasts in the
Thunderous waves of
Open sea
Hands strike the water
Gasping for breath but
Carnivorous birds snap their beaks
Pick with hunger the flesh of
Indistinct human forms
Clashing stains tear apart the
Bloody sky
A streak of obfuscated yellow
Ostensibly the sunlight
Shreds down the heavens onto the
Bloody seas
Light doesn’t penetrate the brine but illuminates the
Rotting purple toes
Detached from bodies and
Rusted shackles
Copper shoulders
Oil flocks swarm the no longer
Palpitating flesh of the
Sick and Weak
Worth a few final cents for the
Master’s meat
Gaped-mouthed demonfish
Gulp waves of plankton and
Limbs hurling
Manacled ankles
Whips lashing and
In this painting of sky and sea there is no blue.

Master squints his eyes
Shameless and brazen
Searching, executing
Another abrasion

But no insurance payment
Will arrive on deck, only with crashing waves and
Stormy seas, will the
Creator respond, to
Immeasurable misdeeds