Holocaust

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Smoke billows from underneath A temple that has seen and known life and death, peace and war. It remembers.   A golden chandelier illuminates An otherwise dark scene,
I am a living memorial of the people whom I came from I am a living memorial of my great-grandfather from my failing legs I am a living memorial of the goodest boy from my wrist
WARNING: this one is inspired by stories from victims of WW2 and the Holocaust, so it's a little gory.    We know freedom Like the cockroach knows freedom: Raw, trembling freedom.  
The Mirror Shows   The mirror shows hate A liquor so often ingested Contaminated one man Whose thirst was never satisfied  
Oh, what have I done? I knew it was wrong,  From the start of it all. But once night fell The darkness swallowed  Innocence.
People behind bars wishing to join the stars tormentors laughing and smiling while children slave away crying bystanders watch sad yet scared while people's hearts are bared
I used to be afraid of the dark But darkness consumed my life and I lived my life in fear The night was dark   I used to have hope and stars in my eyes But my hope was burned alive and ash covered the sky
Yorek is another consequence of The dark horror of our people A boy born on the early fifties From the bloody burned Poland Descendant of holocaust refugees They met by fate and were tied
My mom says we have to leave our home to a new special places for Jews like us. I don't really understand what she means. We only get to bring a few things but strange men are yelling at us to hurry up. I decide to bring my giraffe.
I am watching, waiting for the horror to end,  for them to believe in me.   I am screaming as the trees arch over to tear me out of their hearts.   I am homeless.
The smell is something  that stays with you forever.  The smoke is long gone, but it left a solemn promise.   That stays with you forever-- when you look at the ovens, it leaves a solemn promise
Chosen, to be a living canvas, Blood stained, and tattered, Painted with earth shaking victories,
6 million people6 million innocent peopleTreated as less than the dirt that crunches beneath our feetGuinea pigs,tossed aside like the wrapper of a straw,Forgotten,
Hitler, I'd like to meet and to him I will greet Why do you hate the Jewish fleet Their bare feet march down the narrow street As Rabbis wonder if their maker is who they are going to meet
Everything we have, My grandmother says, We owe to the rain—   I think less of her name, Less of our history,
I look into my life And all I see is pain The cries, the violence The bitterness, people in vain  
Tattered and torn clothes Weighted gait and pale face. The man makes his way to the piano, as if to play. Months of silence. All the time in hiding. He slowly lifts his fingers
The thought of freedom Weighing him down Pointless suffering was evil’s hour   “We must face it.” This philosophy of hate and force  
to the oppressed: In a world, so dark and cold where all hope is lost good and evil right and wrong are throw away like paper however plenty there is not
Living in a secure and sound house As warm as a cub As safe as a guarded building As peaceful as a meditation room But that’s all in the past  
1944 and not a Jewish soul free S.S. soldiers caring not for the lives of the jews no matter if plead, Children slaughtered and their innocence revoked
You can tell when a man breaks   The essence of our being dances Swims, twirls Twinkles in the color of our gaze Sight untroubled stares vivaciously
  Hide Is all I can say Before the hollow thud of boots cross the floor I hold my younger brother to my chest
Naked skeletons. Hollow eyes. Gnarled joints. All in line for “shower” time. I was just following orders. Branded like cattle. In line like sheep for slaughter. Already dead.
The autumn air has become thick Filled with fear and desperation What was once home Has become Hell on earth Destruction rapes the surface While the sky explodes with fire
The crunch of your boots sends my sister quaking in fear. I hate you, But I am grateful you drained her of tears. Water is precious.  
A lone girl holds her mother’s hand “What are they doing? We have done nothing wrong.” The next things her mother said were sung in a lullaby song--
It was night when they came rushing inIt was night when I heard the soldiers shoutNight when I was dragged from my bedNight when I was stolen from my own house It was night when I had a gun to my backIt was night when they marched us to the trains
Onto the Streets I walk filled with misery and lack of hope sadness spewing out like tears in the falling rain knowing I may never
The blank document on the computer screen rears its ugly head It's a quiet Tuesday night and it's raining while I'm staring at the computer How could I write a poem on something like this?
In the bleak and quiet horror of a concentration camp morning, Viktor Frankl asked them why. Why not throw themselves against The comforting hum of electric fences or onto swords like Brutus.
It started with an idea for political change; Putting a man in charge who believed in only his way; It started small with restricting laws; Soon concentration camps were made and millions lost; 
All the Jews came to yell... "We made it out of hell! We are forever freed!" They gathered around the big oak tree.
Here is the land. Here it still stands. Here the land is opaque To those who cannot see. The world's secrets as easily. Open the ground they say. Let us show you are bones Still in the ground we lay.
WE ONLY HAVE EACH OTHERBY MIRA WILDERIf the sun can rise on another daythe hope in our hearts willnever fade awayA wish for tomorrowwill  keep us aliveOh sister we must survive
Joyless silence Fills the air As the terrible day Draws near No one was expecting it Nor did they want it It was just one of those things that just happens Millions of Jews filled the streets
    How could they do this to us , knowing we were against it Knowing the pain, the scars,the memories we now have to keep  forever
Do we not bleed too, or are we the only ones to blame for spilt blood? Are we not a land of many peoples and pasts, minorities and majorities, harmonious and chaotic?
I am onl
Let's take a trip, no a dip into the past where the sun showed, where the dew on the  leaves of the grape vines glowed.   Before echoes of the railroad pinged and clanged,
Faith People say that we are molded by our experienes I have looked death in the face I have seen friends perish People have burned before my eyes My future was never certain Each day became a gift
  Fighting grief for the rising sun, Another day is gone and come. We recede into the blackest night, Instinct pulsing, adrenaline high.
Many feel sorrow in his eyes As I too wittiness a reprise In death in not knowing
Against all odds, I am here. I am a survivor, born of survivors, with fire in my blood. My perseverance is all that I need, for my will to live consumes me. It was not always so.
Death lurks in every corner as we are thrown into the burner. Towards the chamber full of gas, we walk, our feet torn up by glass.  
The man walked in big steps Here to take my family away through the Nazi’s attempts He grabbed my little sister by the arm
The man walked in big steps Here to take my family away through the Nazi’s attempts He grabbed my little sister by the arm
Two eyes, Two legs, Two arms, One nose, One mouth, I thought i was a human, Until... Close friends and family were Spit at, And even killed. Nobody seemed to notice,
When the morning breaks I kiss my wife, My laces slither through my boots’ loops, I slide the stiff sleeves of my uniform on, My baby boyis laughing and bouncing on my knee as I eat my breakfast,
If one child had not been taken - had not been shot, had not been slain - if one more child had remained standing, think of the heroes she could have named.   If one child had told her stories,
They were brought down Down to the pits of the darkest spectrum Beyond a trace of relief, a glimmer of hope   They were menaced, chided, and turned Beaten, battered, and burned
July 7 1944 My dear beloved child,  I take with me your last image. "Make her be quiet! She's mad! Shut her up!"                   Her little boy stroked her hand.
With such tenacity in the eyes of the living with remnants in the souls of the dead with persecution of those who do not understand the disheveled souls search for a meaning to be alive to be living
FLOWER, ITS HAS VARIOUS COLOUR, ITS HAS VARIOUS NAME, ITS HAS MYRIAD SHAPE, ITS HAS MYRIAD DESIGN.   NOW, I KNOW HOW BEAUTIFULLY, THE FLOWER IS, I KNOW HOW NICE SMELL,
We were oppressed for our heritage,
Snow falls gently from the hazy sky, Dancing around us like glittering faeries, lively and joyful. The Sun smiles, her arms reaching lovingly towards us, but never reaching.
     
I walked through the valley of the shadow of death And witnessed the face of the many Who suffered greatly without remorse I gazed upon the anguish and Fear within their eyes  
  Have you ever stomped on flowers? I have. Stomp Stomp Stomp
He walked on an edge where thousands followed, An edge where no one ever asked to walk on. A place with no future. A place with small promise. An atmosphere covered in sick scented smoke.
I was eight yeards old when I was killed. The man who killed me was very smart; Everyone believed him when he told them we were bad. Everyone except us. The Drek.  
As if their concentration camps weren't enough, Now they have to shove big guns in our faces. They do not care if we cry, They do not care if we die. All they care about is extinguishing our religion and race.
Ashes, Ashes, they all fall to the ground Where is God? Where is He they all cry out! Memories branded, families not found, "God is not with us!" Many of them shout! A sequence of numbers etched in blue,
Some days I imagine a field of glassendless and shimmering:whispers on the wind of the children who once playedof the women who once loved.Some days I imagine a sky of graynuclear ash
They stepped into the nightmare, Accompanied by nothing but a greeting. Their captors walked without a care. A courtyard was where they were meeting.   They were stripped and humiliated.
How can you do this? What a monster. My dear Miaia, so beautiful, so lively. So perfect. Her dark hair shone. Her eyes sparkled like obsidian. Her skin so soft like satin.
The mistakes we have made are never forgotten The memory of the bodies, lifeless and rotten The scenes of gore make their impact To remember the inhumanities we must go back  
Never once have I felt the suffering you went through, Still I can sense your pain, As you struggle to endure your journey, Constant fear and threatening thoughts run through your head,
Pain,Screams,and ashes,that is our life. The pain of being torn from your family,the screams of agony, and torment,the ashes of our people burning,This is our life.
What is freedom? Is it the light I see in this dark place? Is it just a word, or do I give the meaning to it? Is it the feeling of floating freely in poisonous water? 
  I knew the Holocaust would never be forgotten, Jews lived nightmares and always proceeded with caution, Legs were amputated, Wounds were made, but even in skin and bones, The Jews kept their faith,
Why do the clouds cry? Could it be for me? Deprived of name, flesh, and shoe, trapped in an endless cycle of resentment. My only crime being that I am different.
Welcome to Paradise Island. Laugh most hilariously, sip on blood-red wine, breathe in the smell of death in the air. Take note of the beautiful scenery:
Scattered in the street they lay like discarded leaves on a spring night. Bodies stacked high reaching for the heavens above, hoping God can hear their silent cries. They are alone now,
POWER. HIS VOICE CARRIED THROUGH THE CROWD. HATE. DISTINGUISHABLE IN EVERY SOUND. AS HE PREACHED THE LISTENERS BECAME ENCHANTED, HYPNOTIZED. PULLED DOWN INTO THE WHIRLPOOL OF HIS WORDS  
It is here where the birds refuse to fly, and the animals, graze      For on this spot people have died     There was no one here to save    The tattered souls of the depraved  
The flames above me burn, burn, And before the woman can turn, return, There’s a sharp knock at the door, the door. She puts the matches in the drawer, the drawer, And she crosses the floor.  
  Young men—on the brink of  legitimate adulthood—standing in a line. Guns cocked, polished shoes planted firmly on the German soil. Make us proud sons.
Broken dreamsTorn at the seamsThe flames of hellYour soul to sellWilted flowersPoisoned showersHollow eyesBloody liesSee the childOn death's pileSee them taunt herIt's all a blurI can see it-- all faith lostNightmares born from the Holocaust
Saying we are at fault, Grim comes bringing. Dry wilting, grey clouds; sharp sound screams ringing. Mindless and standing here under the sky. How could these blank beings do this to us?
Why rid the earth of filth when the filth was you you took over in Germany when they had no idea what to do You led them to dismay, you took our rights away you told them that because we were different we were wrong
They lived in darkness Cut off from the world They were ripped away from their homes Locked away and never allowed to leave   Little boys and little girls cried As families were torn apart
We can hear them miles away; walking on the cold cement, Click, click, click as the pavement meets their faded black boots.  
I Am Too   I’m closer to a piece of fruit at the market Than I am to a human being. Fruit is labeled-I am too. Fruit is numbered-I am too. Fruit is shipped-I am too.
There’s a sound of broken glass, A rush of fear and the sound of dogs. Our silence is deep, But I know it won’t last.   My mother said a bad man is in charge. He wants to hurt us because we’re Jews.
the fire and | i lie the ash is | here in the choking | darkness with choking the | only my bodies of | paper bag
The Choices You Make   Doesn't matter what the press says     And show the world your beliefs
Theresienstadt: Ghetto/Camp/Hope for Better Fate   Model ghetto
Inspired by Ellie Wiesel's "Night"
                                                                          Imagine yourself wearing a yellow star everyday being labeled a Jew
Miles and miles of the same thingLocks no key can be found forWhat is this torture?They lock upOur physical bodiesAnd murder your soulsHorrorsNever meant to be known to this world
They could take our names, They could take our skin, Our hair, They could take our lives, And everything that made us Human. But they can’t take our faith. They bond we have,
Screams, Shouts, As the black smoke fills the heavy air. Families ripped apart, “boys and men to one side— Women and girls on the other” Repeated day after day. No food, No water. Here,
deliberate scoundrel forcing his trowel to sever the roots prejudice is given to the perceived inferior round up the unwanted ones Star Thistle, African Violet, Chinese Lantern herbaceous genocide
My soul is beaten, torn, and broken. I just can't tell which way to go. I feel like my life has no purpose, the only time I feel alive is night. I'm beaten by day, and dying by night. I wake up each day,
Bodies thrown in raging fires, Shoved into gas chambers, And left in the fields, Withering away like crushed flowers… And I found myself wandering through this forbidding pasture.
Bodies thrown in raging fires, Shoved into gas chambers, And left in the fields, Withering away like crushed flowers… And I found myself wandering through this forbidding pasture.
Hear I stand a soldier haunted by what I've done. My ears still ring with their screams. My eyes still burn burn with their faces. I remember whispering to each pair of eyes
Steady knocks upon the doors of the town. Lest they know the reign ascending soon there, But the silence grew where once was viewed dear. They were lured away with but a gown.
The day began as a day begins-- With the sun’s first white rays painting the eastern sky. The silence of earth is the hope of the morning-- Potential to please the ear and the eye.
I watch you as you burn Tongues of yellow, orange and deepest red Licking at your yarn head Nipping, curling around your homespun cloth Little dolly mine I cannot bring myself to cry As momma sobs out loud
The pictures of the Holocaust, Ghastly and unyielding, Show starving people in their camps, Terrible and unfeeling.   So depressed they feel no emotion. So hungry they cannot eat.
They have been sleeping for countless years. They live to teach they live to educate Through the attentive doors come the mad men. To throw their knowledge into the fiery den,
millions of screaming ghosts beg for your attention to their names long forgotten, to their lives lived out long ago, in misery and rejection for years, just because of a small difference
Inspired by Ellie Wiesel's "Night"
They came at night Breaking doors and windows Like they broke my mother’s heart. We were forced into cattle cars Crammed together like sardines In a smelly, dirty, sweltering box.
Little Brother and I, We cry sometimes, No Mommy, No Daddy, Alone. Little Sister and I, We laugh sometimes, It’s hard – but we have to try.
To dream is to die, to die is to live. For we forsake our freedom, for others to live.
Abriet macht frie the gate had said, those who entered new they were dead. Yellow stars on their shirts, made adults and children hurt. Everything that took place, the mass killing
A Jew I cannot help that I am a Jew It never mattered so before Angry hearts and persecution led to the horrors of bitter war As stars are killed and burned and buried, the whole world turns blind eyes
The cattle car stopped, our ten day trip we hoped to be through So much hatred from a Nazi, so much hatred toward a Jew Our belongings were taken, to where we don’t know The pile of suitcases beginning to grow
They tangled me in confusion I was tangled in the fear I was tangled in the deaths That I could not bare
Tears like rain Fear, hurt, and pain Love is forgotten People go insane Nothing but sorrow Hope for a tomorrow Wishing for a better day Working to get a better pay
A silver yawn her intake of breath And she closes her eyes and stretches her sobbing limbs.
A chance to escape in the form of a cruise line ship. It sails away from that country, The place that put its passengers through hell, To a safe haven. They think they're lucky, They think they're free.
(poems go here)
1.1 million murdered Families vanished like dust No record No reason No justice Dust in the wind
The Holocaust burned us with memories and fears These moments where all of my faith had let loose All I could do was hide My dreams turned to ashes the more I thought I would escape
Life is nothing My life is empty Beaten every waken day Life is gone My life was taken away Pulled away from my family Life is a hassle My life is tough Struggling to stay alive
Even the coldest hearts need someone to love We'll watch these bodies burn and turn into one Together we'll hear them scream, together we'll watch them fade As the wind gently blows them away and away
I saw upon a dying street Beneath the trees' barren Humiliation, A young man (who reminds me of my grandfather) Raking all the leaves Into a sad pile And laughing, He sets it on fire
Look at this world What do you see, One great nation we’ve made today? We have claimed achievement But we must see why- Some stories differ from side to side Horrors and wonders have built our world
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