Corpses In The Woods
A dung heap of rotting corpses:
Glazed eyes, bloodshot,
Brains split, guts spewed out
The air poisoned by the stink of corpses
A single awful cry of madness.
Oh, women in France,
Women of Germany
Regard your menfolk!
They fumble with torn hands
For the swollen bodies of their enemies,
Gestures, stiff in death, become the touch of brotherhood,
Yes, they embrace each other,
Oh, horrible embrace!
I see and see and am struck dumb
Am I a beast, a murderous dog?
Men violated
Murdered.
poem by Ernst Toller
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Little-Known Death Factory
Operation Barbarossa,
The German invasion of the Soviet Union
commenced on June 22,1941.
Behind the rapidly advancing Wehrmacht forces
mobile SS death squads, the Einsatzgruppen,
went into action. They killed Jews,
Soviet prisoners of war and political commissars.
The historian Raul Hilberg estimated
the number of Jewish men, women and children
murdered by the Einsatzgruppen
in the ravines of Babi Yar, in the forests of Riga
and many other places at 1.3 million.
On the outspread yards of a former kolkhoz,
a dusty Soviet collective farm,
the SS task forces set up a secret death factory.
Its horrible assembly lines creaked and cried
in the outskirts of Minsk of Byelorussia,
near the village of Maly Trostenets.
Here the Nazis murdered thousands of Jews,
Soviet prisoners of war, partisans, Gypsies
and other Byelorussian civilians.
And then, on May 19,1942,
the first transport of Jews from Germany,
Austria and Czechoslovakia arrived.
Maly Trostenets became
a Vernichtungslager, an extermination camp.
Men, women and children
Were shot daily in the forests.
Others, thousands of them,
were killed in mobile gas chamber vans,
on the way from Minsk to Maly Trostenets.
Special groups of prisoners threw the corpses
Of the murdered into deep pits of mass graves.
The 'final solution',
the euphemistic code used in Hitler's Reich
for the extermination of the Jews,
was conducted in great secrecy.
The guards were ordered under oath
to shut their mouth.
The perpetrators of the massacres tried
to obliterate the evidence
that the camp ever existed.
As the Red Army advanced
the inmates were forced to exhume the bodies
from the mass graves and to cremate the corpses.
After they completed their terrible task
the guards killed them as well.
Finally, on June 28,1944,
the SS guards blew up the camp.
One of the victims who was shot by the Nazis
at Maly Trostenets was Vincent Hadleuski,
a Catholic priest and Byelorussian patriot.
Another victim who died here was Cora Berliner,
a German Jewess born in 1942 in Hannover,
She was known in her homeland
as a pioneer of social work and as an economist.
The Austrian-born soprano Grete Forst
was murdered in Maly Trostenets, too.
History has recorded the date: June 1,1942.
The psychologist Margarete Hilferding,
her compatriot, also lost her life here,
on September 23 of the same year.
No survivors of the lager are known
to be alive today.
Since the Nazis did not keep camp records
the exact number of people who perished here
in the genocide is unknown.
Estimates range from 200,000
to half million murdered men, women
and children. At least 65,000 of them
were Jews.
poem by Paul Hartal
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SPIDER AND THE FLY...by Talile Ali
SPINNING THAT WEB
TO TRAP ANY DUMB ASS GUY
CAREFULLY WOVE
DID THE SPIDER FOR THIS UNDONE FLY
DUMB ASS COME RUNNING
CHASING A LIE
GETS WHAT HE DESERVES FROM
THE SPIDER WHEN SHE CRIES
TRUTH IN AN ACTION
IT IS DO OR DIE
GIVE WOMEN WHAT THEY WANT
OR YOU BETTER KNOW YOU WILL FRY
WOMEN ARE SENSELESS
WOMEN ARE INSANE
THATS WHY MEN ARE BEAST
BECAUSE THE WOMEN AREN'T TAMED
SPINNING THEIR WEBS
WITH THE POWER OF THEIR EYES
NOT EVEN GENTLE
AS THEY HANG YOU OUT TO DRY
BUGGY EYED AND BUZZING
ALWAYS GOING TO TRY
THATS WHY MEN ARE CAPTURED
IN THE WEBS OF THESE ARACHNI
poem by Talile Ali
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Men And Women
The women of this domain struck us in the mouth,
The highness of women struck us with their tongue.
A soul clenched in the fist is used for clamping together the brains
Of males and females, for keeping women alive with their tongue.
If their tongue is highly successful then at last we commence
With what may lie underneath us, and trust their cause,
For the votes from the women are highly collectable,
The voting is correct and the domain is vast for men.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Women Of Color
women of color are superficial
women of color are women of wonder
women of color are those who contains the artificial heart
women of color are our mothers
women of color are special
women of color don't need to speak of themselves
it is others that speak of them
women of color have supernatural eyes
i think about them day and night
laugh at them they'll laugh as well cause
you're laughing at yourself
above the mountains their guts can surpass
across the ocean and time their stories stays
if you see one smile then you will see true happiness
poem by jude TOUSSAINT
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Different Germany
The lights are down in germany
And germany is closed to me
Different somehow this time.
The airports stiff, cold corridors
Ring empty beats through hollow feet
That I find to be mine.
Different germany.
History repeats somehow.
Different germany.
Afraid to know you now.
And past my eyes with leathered gaze
Stare clean-cut boys all dressed as men
In sharpened uniform.
Who turned the clock? (moved on or back)
And what dark chill is gathering still
Before the storm.
Out in the street a tableau double-glazed
With laughing girls whose fastened smiles
Are clearly not meant for me.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corpses are more fit to be thrown out than is dung.
quote by Heraclitus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women
I love women, I think theyre great
Theyre a solace to the world in a terrible state
Theyre a blessing to the eyes, a balm to soul
What a nightmare to have no women in the world
I love women
I love women
I love women
We all love women
I used to look at women in the magazines
I know that it was sexist, but I was in my teens
I was very bitter, all my sex was on the sly
I couldnt keep my hands off women, and I wont till I die
I love women
Ah, I love women
We love women
We all love women
A womans love can lift you up, and women can inspire
I feel like buying flowers and hiring a celestial choir
A choir of castratis to serenade my love
Theyd sing a little bach for us and then wed make love
I love women
I love women
We all love women
We love women
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines Written During The Castlereagh Administration
I.
Corpses are cold in the tomb;
Stones on the pavement are dumb;
Abortions are dead in the womb,
And their mothers look pale—like the death-white shore
Of Albion, free no more.
II.
Her sons are as stones in the way--
They are masses of senseless clay--
They are trodden, and move not away,--
The abortion with which SHE travaileth
Is Liberty, smitten to death.
III.
Then trample and dance, thou Oppressor!
For thy victim is no redresser;
Thou art sole lord and possessor
Of her corpses, and clods, and abortions—they pave
Thy path to the grave.
IV.
Hearest thou the festival din
Of Death, and Destruction, and Sin,
And Wealth crying 'Havoc!' within?
’Tis the bacchanal triumph that makes Truth dumb,
Thine Epithalamium.
V.
Ay, marry thy ghastly wife!
Let Fear and Disquiet and Strife
Spread thy couch in the chamber of Life!
Marry Ruin, thou Tyrant! and Hell be thy guide
To the bed of the bride!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Three Fishers
1 Three fishers went sailing away to the west,
2 Away to the west as the sun went down;
3 Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
4 And the children stood watching them out of the town;
5 For men must work, and women must weep,
6 And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
7 Though the harbour bar be moaning.
8 Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,
9 And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down;
10 They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,
11 And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown.
12 But men must work, and women must weep,
13 Though storms be sudden, and waters deep,
14 And the harbour bar be moaning.
15 Three corpses lay out on the shining sands
16 In the morning gleam as the tide went down,
17 And the women are weeping and wringing their hands
18 For those who will never come home to the town;
19 For men must work, and women must weep,
20 And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep;
21 And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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The access of men
No woman would abhor
The embrace of a man
Whom she thinks her higher,
And no man would detest
The embrace of women
Who are very low though.
It is with compulsion
That they desist such acts.
22.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Two Sided Love
Two Sided Love
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted 24 2009
Women think with their hearts,
men think with their Johnson.
Women think with their heads,
men think with the wrong head, they have two heads.
Women give love with men,
men give screwing with women.
Women want to touch men,
men want to get abusive to women.
Women want be emotional with men,
men want to be unemotional with women.
Women want have physical attraction with men,
men want to give the abusive apart to women.
Women want sex with men,
men want to give rape to women.
Women wants to talk to men,
men want watch TV and screw women.
Women want to eat out with men,
men want a free ride from the women.
Women want to go to movies with men,
men want play games on computer.
Women want children with the men,
men are children.
Women are independent,
men are dependent.
Women achieve goals,
men half the time never finish their goals.
Women are unselfish even caring to men,
men are selfish besides uncaring to women.
Women give true love to men,
men give infatuation to woman.
poem by Lori Triggs
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War
child who cries for parents in a broken
down battlefield bringing him to
realize an unkind truth.
bodies piling up, shots ringing,
cries in vain in front of
deaths cruel eyes.
Ignorant to their surroundings, marching
on like puppets on a string following
commands.
acidic smell, not a single, remnant
of what use to be happiness left behind.
surrounded by corpses, a single child
standing in the middle of the road,
dead look in his eyes crying for help.
poem by Rosa Torres
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We Sinful Women
It is we sinful women
who are not awed by the grandeur of those who wear gowns
who don't sell our lives
who don't bow our heads
who don't fold our hands together.
It is we sinful women
while those who sell the harvests of our bodies
become exalted
become distinguished
become the just princes of the material world.
It is we sinful women
who come out raising the banner of truth
up against barricades of lies on the highways
who find stories of persecution piled on each threshold
who find that tongues which could speak have been severed.
It is we sinful women.
Now, even if the night gives chase
these eyes shall not be put out.
For the wall which has been razed
don't insist now on raising it again.
It is we sinful women
who are not awed by the grandeur of those who wear gowns
who don't sell our bodies
who don't bow our heads
who don't fold our hands together.
[Translated from urdu to english by Rukhsana Ahmed]
poem by Kishwar Naheed
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Death Drops
Reports on reports by dailies;
Sympathies on sympathies;
Still cripples on cripples
And corpses on corpses.
On plantations, diabolic showers of Endosulfan.
Innocent raptures, its colour changed,
With the poison mixed.
Brains drained; heads swelled;
And like exclamation marks, tongues did
Jut out of the mouths.
Dribble drops of pesticide:
Legs and arms coiled,
And eyes, its wires melted.
Plantation village looked
Like a collided car.
Vultures in the sky hover;
Coffin makers get richest than ever;
Keep toys and cradles in tears fore ever;
Darkness so thick; and rays come out never.
Death falls in drops: where is the umbrella?
(Remembering the victims of Endosulfan pesticide in plantation villages of Kerala, India…)
poem by Fabiyas M V
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Lucky Ones
Beige-brown logs of decaying flesh float on the river;
Enumerable, abject.
The bough decapitated;
Near the zenith.
How long? how many more?
The elders wonder as they stare agape;
As the women on the riverbank,
Wallop their bosoms, wailing in a cohort, covered in sanguine red;
The chosen color of fate in this bed of feminocracy
A bleak country sans a vision or a voice;
As decapitated bodies float in the river,
Corpses nobody wants, nobody arrests;
As the bodies float to the jaws of a second death;
In the hands of slithering predators;
In the hallways of muddy banks; bewitching waters;
In a harrowing twilight.
Then one day, from the source of the river
Comes a speckle of hope,
A body, a bullet piercing a makeshift fontanelle,
Some unknown widow's husband, A mother's son,
Leaving behind a rare legacy.
A face that solemnly bequeaths to the onlookers, a morceau of hope.......
Two eyes, a nose and two lips that matter so much,
A burial, a much looked forward burial;
For one of the lucky ones.
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Madness
Madness!
Come on embrace it,
This madness.
No need to chase,
This madness...
Seems,
A permanent stay...
With everyone today.
Madness!
Come on embrace it,
This madness.
No need to chase,
This madness...
Seems,
A permanent stay...
With everyone today.
No need to cover up,
Abrupt eruptions.
They seem to lead us...
To a peace to keep.
No need to cover up,
Abrupt eruptions.
They seem to lead us...
To a peace to keep.
A peace that comes to satisfy,
The reason why we're living.
And that madness...
Come on embrace it,
This madness.
No need to chase,
A madness...
Seems,
A permanent stay...
With everyone today.
Oh a madness!
Come on embrace it,
This madness.
No need to chase,
This madness...
Seems,
A permanent stay...
With everyone today.
To never go away until we increase the peace.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Future Legend
And in the death
As the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare
The shutters lifted in inches in temperance building
High on poachers hill
And red mutant eyes gaze down on hunger city
No more big wheels
Fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats
And ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes
Coveting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers
Like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of love-me avenue
Ripping and rewrapping mink and shiny silver fox, now legwarmers
Family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald
Any day now
The year of the diamond dogs
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earthquake (HAITI)
Sad beyond comforting...
...I see the bodies in the rubbles,
Their souls have gone up and evaporated like water,
Into a slumber, their gentle 'soul sleeps'
Their flesh mixed with concrete and rocks. It gradually becomes dust & dust.
I hope the survivors don't feel forsaken,
Though their loved ones have been taken
By death in disguise with a name-'earthquake'
What did over 50,000 people do to get swallowed by mother earth?
Has she not eaten enough from tsunami yet?
Faiths tested,
Atheists ask,
'where is your God at this very moment? '
Millions left suffering,
The rest of the world are left pondering
and wondering,
Saying,
'It could have been us instead of them! '
'It could have been me instead of him! '
Unconsolable, grieving
Sad beyond comforting,
Bodies upon bodies--: -(
Mother Nature, was thou that hungry?
Every fibre in thy body
is devastingly saddened.
Alas, Mother Nature was thou that angry?
Seemingly shattered and hopeless,
The living and the dead co-exists on the streets of PORT-AU- PRINCE,
Heartbroken, soul shaken;
Ah, I see a skull cracked open,
the brains splattered and spilled all over,
Corpses on corpses all over.
We shall write and sing for the departed, a lot of dirge and elegy
We shall mourn them till' we sap out our energy
Our faces wet like the morning dew: -(
As we mourn & pay to the victims their sincere respect and due.
How I wish I didn't have to write this piece,
Poet Ivy prays you rest in perfect peace.
poem by George Obizulike
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Violence Against Women
Violence against women is simply unacceptable.
God created men and women to love with one another,
To enjoy each other until the end of the last hour,
Until the end of time. It is despicable,
It is awful for men to abuse women,
To sell them like cheap hot cakes, to take advantage
Of them, and to use so much force and rage
Against the most beautiful creatures in Eden.
Only cowards would mistreat the women and the flowers
Of the paradise that God took the time to create.
Allah in heaven! God, who can decide the fate
Of humanity, protect all who find themselves in front of the barrels
Of violence, of misery and of unthinkable discrimination;
Wise up the men who are lost in the shuffle of time;
Use your almighty power and strength to eradicate crime;
And force men and women to love one another again in action,
In deeds, in words, in gestures, and of course in spirit.
Men and women were created to love each other without guilt.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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I'm Sorry To All These Women
I'm sorry to all those women,
Caused pain by men,
I'm sorry to all the women,
Affected by uncaring men,
I'm sorry to all those women,
Hurt by awful men,
I'm sorry to all the women,
With broken hearts from broken men,
I'm sorry to all women,
For all existing men,
poem by Kieran J1996
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