When Satanic Power Ruled A Third Reich
In another age time another pyre place agonized
beyond measure-able distance far away stretched
crimes committed surpass comprehension civilized
forgiveness murdered discarded remains unquestioned
mounds of broken coke carbon fuel cooked oven bones
pre-cooked unto oblivion new dust cremated termite mounds
mounds lie piled still an aging testament to craven third Reich.
An extract from the poem ‘Stone Cross’.85? 87?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Stone Cross
Read weep moan marvel
at drover’s driven dross
while too few sincerely mourn
a far greater terrifying loss;
heartfelt chosen selected life
stone pledged; final solution cross.
Look with compassion upon
shadows bespeaking suffering
sea saved floatsam full stark
face affirming agonized affliction
unveiled herded branded inhumanity
industrialized mechanical process
is more demonically tumultuous
than heaven’s hosts could abide stand
view with nerve frayed stringent
wrenching gutted angelic perfect heart
final fatal fallen orb unleashed depravity
inflicted with whipped screaming insensitivity
without window-dressing a barbaric cruelty
within frosted protective polemics’ mad mind.
Two naked tears screaming come
one for each soulless sightless
eye in streams fevered form
flow from lifeless victim eyes
down hollow gaunt sunken cheeks
years cannot infliction fathom
depths disparaging indentured
genocidal indulgence ghost look
such eyes dread soul expires dies.
Candle snuffed no longer brightly burns
within sensation saturation sodden injured.
Human-less spirit fragmented untouchable
body flexes feeling of a trauma chronic kind.
In another age time another pyre place agonized
beyond measure-able distance far away stretched
crimes committed surpass comprehension civilized
forgiveness murdered discarded remains unquestioned
mounds of broken coke carbon fuel cooked oven bones
pre-cooked unto oblivion new dust cremated termite mounds
mounds lie piled still an aging testament to craven third Reich.
Lining bone manured rows
where giant cabbages
once in time did grow.
Lust bloated bodies juices
souls squeezed spoke mutely
as they devoured dribbled
down demon grinning chins
of Schutzstaffel SS guards
in erected extermination camps.
How did we get here?
From gentle comfort
of a woman’s womb.
Why is it. Evil has survived?
In changing kaleidoscope.
Hatching hideous patterns.
Acid answer is found
in interchanging megalomaniac;
effacing emotion, feeling, locked
within (fragile fragmented)
soul aspiring human heart.
Propaganda. Self serving philosophy
practiced by virulent vermin
who profit manufacture war.
Sole purpose propelling life
destruction. Holocaust.
A man responsible for death
dehumanizing millions.
Killer keywords victim.
In search sowing suffering.
Sleeping conscience abated.
Boundary; blindness, hate, fear. Nationalism.
Arsenal; clubs, whips, violent tension.
Threat. Is trigger stimulant mind controlled.
Cry Freedom Now. Bullet lacks morals.
Sane silence more oppressive than organized outcry.
Hate breeds hate epidemically.
Hate for all things all life.
A soul in chains sieves conspiracy.
Feels all things conspire against self.
Destroy Destroy All Forever.
From face of earth. Strike Strike
All Everything Down. Every Last
Man Woman Child. Animal Bug.
Destroy every City every Tower
every Dwelling. Break every Stone
standing on another. Destroy Destroy
Still. Still it is not Enough. Destroy.
Ruins surround and confront.
Glaring accusations athirst sight.
Charred ruins like convulsed minds.
Victims suffer slaughtered over centuries.
Impaled linger transfixed. Slowly agonizingly die.
No answer is found
to comfort dying cries.
Evil conspires to flourish
as plague sweeping diseased
spores into welcoming pores.
Harboured nurtured developed
growing with power-crests.
Engulfing blackness rides carries
devastates all before selected.
When events happen rage rapidly rabid.
Definitively remain beyond comprehension.
Everything appears becomes threats.
A lifetime of critical injury can be imaged.
Concentrated raged. Into one blow. Murderous.
Though a few nations
heaped verbal venom
scorn upon Hitler. Powerful
demon voice was never stilled.
Even when crippled weakened.
Presence arrested
vibrations external forces.
Unfettered realm
pervades creative analysis.
Time past contracting into present
vortex flux existent continuation inflicted pain.
Carrion birds came fed off rotting.
Living Corpses. Diseased minds like worms
ate as leeches each life holding vein.
Exploited solution washes polluted chemically.
No fresh water flows down such shower drains.
Cries agonized voices torn apart
as nails claw shred concrete walls.
Re-cemented every three wipe-out weeks.
Flesh compressed confined sealed gassed chambers
choked entangled in streams secluding blood.
Children weeping last heard mockery echo.
Reaching for clinging shredding. Bare skirt-less legs.
Collective Guilt Is Groundless.
Guilt is individual as is salvation.
Collective guilt cannot enforced be
laid upon innocence preadolescent.
Vengeance reparations cause wars?
No indictment exists
nor means rationally
for law creating crime
as collective nations
shame blame guilt.
Penalty culpability
regret responsibility
admissions of evils
For the Indictment
of an entire nation.
Least free-born blood
of race righteousness.
Condemned in error.
Cry out from ground
in accusation against us.
Evil must be cleansed
to source malignant.
Before humanity can
collectively throw off. Weight
cavitation chains walk free.
Populations held down bound
in propaganda ignorance hate.
Tyrants proud walk among us.
Living on not as illegal outcasts.
But as charismatic nation leaders.
Cherished denizens. Wielding
strength of demonic disguised
power. Only low. Less cunning
dogs. Are seen face recognized
for who they soul sold do bow.
Throughout human choice ages
have corrupt dark souls misruled.
Then in ages past as present now.
Smearing their mislead Nations.
With individual temptation evil.
As they hostage hold Our World.
In perpetuity. Before
image of the beast.
Until Har-Magedon.
Populations. Are not evil
in conscience themselves.
Though individual evil.
Can overcome a people.
Transform a sane nation.
With propaganda blinded.
Mind putty clay controlled
is shaped at dictator’s will.
Goose-steps into oblivion.
Siddharta Gautama states.
‘To understand everything
is to forgive everything.’
Yet there are amoral men
whose heinous crimes
surpass comprehension.
Therefore forgiveness.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written 1985? 1987? See also The Holocaust Files!
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alankar (Decor) -28
Villains(Rondel)
Lot lots are villains surrounding
Like dust that helps mites to build mounds
Get housed snakes but there in mites'mounds
Dust and snakes no doubt surrounding
But they are rare seen surrounding
Not in huge swarms like mosquitoes
Lot lots are villains surrounding
'Bite and suck' their manifestoes
These are just few picks surrounding
Lot more in the guise of servants
Be it loam or home, those servants
Cheat, beat, loot to grab anything
Lot lots are villains surrounding
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The City
the city was once
a forest of trees
when the pioneers
arrive with their axes
and each tree fell
and the river swollen
mothers had to have
more children
and fathers had to
plow more fields
and plant the rows and
rows of corn
as monkeys on top
of the remaining trees
tease
the grasshoppers
find enough sleep
and the ants keep
on building their
empire on mounds
and mounds of
dry land
that was how
a city was formed
my father said
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Day The World Turned Day-Glo
I clambered over mounds and mounds
Of polystyrene foam
Then fell into a swimming pool
Filled with fairy snow
And watched the world turn
Day-glo you know you know
The world turned day-glo you know
I wrenched the nylon curtains back
As far as they would go
Then peered through perspex window panes
At the acrylic road
I drove my polypropolene car
On wheels of sponge
Then pulled into a wimpy bar
To have a rubber bun
The x-rays were penetrating
Through the latex breeze
Synthetic fibre see-thru leaves
Fell from the rayon trees
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fallen Nation Transformation
Populations. Are not evil
in conscience themselves.
Though individual evil.
Can overcome a people.
Transform a sane nation.
With propaganda blinded.
Mind putty clay controlled
is shaped at dictator’s will.
Goose-steps into oblivion.
Siddharta Gautama states.
‘To understand everything
is to forgive everything.’
Yet there are amoral men
whose heinous crimes
surpass comprehension.
Therefore forgiveness.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hearts Of Stones
i do not wish
to hear
any cry on
that
chosen hour
i need you
to keep wearing
that
heart of stone
i want rocks
all rocks
upon the mounds
when the last
shovel is finally put
you can take
all the hearts of
stones
and there peacefully
put them down
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Days
My days are but the tombs of buried hours ;
Which tombs are hidden in the piled years ;
But from the mounds there spring up many flowers,
Whose beauty well repays their cost of tears.
Time, like a sexton, pileth mould on mould,
Minutes on minutes till the tombs are high ;
But from the dust there fall some grains of gold,
And the dead corpse leaves what will never die-
It may be but a thought, the nursling seed
Of many thoughts, of many a high desire ;
Some little act that stirs a noble deed,
Like breath rekindling a smouldering fire :
They only live who have not lived in vain,
For in their works their life returns again.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Lonely Bird On The Electric Wire
this afternoon i take a walk leading to the farm
it is harvest time
and i see the harvesters cutting the rice stalks filled with golden grains
they would group what they gather at a certain place
mounds and mounds of rice grains this time of a bumper year
on the other side are carabaos grazing
lots of grass to graze adding the recently cut rice stalks
i look at the clouds white and blue and shades of both
my attention is however caught by a single bird perched on the electrical wire connecting two poles about 30 meters apart
it is alone there
and i move closely to see whether it is really a bird
indeed it is one of the sparrows in the ricefield
but so unlike the rest it
it is sitting there alone.
our eyes met.
and i tell my wife about this lonely bird.
she says i am just making a metaphor
i sit alone in my garden now after dining
and i wonder if the bird flew back to its nest or to some territory of its own
where their species also live
and i wonder if the bird must be also telling the other birds that it saw
a man walking alone on that path leading to the farm
and unlike other men he prefers to walk alone
and i also think that perhaps the bird would also take issue about the fact that indeed
our eyes met
and i know the other birds would say
that it is nothing but also a sort of metaphor and to the least that
it is nothing but a kind of fable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Resurrection of Moths
The moths worship a flame
in a circular motions,
As lovelorn stars orbit the moon
in a Venus constellation.
Chant a mythical choir in
a mystical fashion-
To appease the divine goddess
of love and passions.
A lamp of love bejeweled with
cacoethes’s emotions,
Bedding a wick woven
with wonderful impressions
And feeding it with
fiery oil of passions.
The moths resemble
the martyrs
ready to die for a nation,
Are raring for kamikaze on
spherical stations
of the flame housed in
bosom of emotions.
They aim to land on
Goddess of passions,
Mate with her in
fire walled mansion
Use their burning
flesh to graced an
auspicious occasion.
The hypnotized moths
march on drumbeats
-war chirps of crickets,
In a mind numbing night
-the starlit thickets,
With their face glowing
without fear or regret:
Chant dust to dust, ash to ash
While landing on bosom
of flaming lass
Smilingly turns
to mounds of ash.
Lo! A magical wand
of resurrection
of a golden glass,
Mysteriously moving
on mounds of ash,
Raises the seraphic
moths of the
highest class.
poem by Hitesh Sheth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Summer Holiday
When the sun shouts and people abound
One thinks there were the ages of stone and the age of
bronze
And the iron age; iron the unstable metal;
Steel made of iron, unstable as his mother; the tow-
ered-up cities
Will be stains of rust on mounds of plaster.
Roots will not pierce the heaps for a time, kind rains
will cure them,
Then nothing will remain of the iron age
And all these people but a thigh-bone or so, a poem
Stuck in the world's thought, splinters of glass
In the rubbish dumps, a concrete dam far off in the
mountain...
poem by Robinson Jeffers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Radicalism
The coming of a that
to dismantle the comb,
unstilling trees under tracer bullets
swaying in embrace
for moonmilk.
The unzipped planktons in sea
open their mouth to supermoon for a night dive
in a green passion. Does it
need a scrutiny? Why a love song
has tarnished the icy mounds?
The venom
of hissing light on a sleeping bay
has erased the aging lines of art
and face was becoming a terror.
There will be no mercy now
for survivors.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the name of God
Atrocities committed when crusaders fought
Women, children murdered
Were Non believers of Antioch/Marat
Jerusalem sieged for a noble Cause
Saracens slaughtered, plundering by holy squad
History sometimes renders us distraught
All crimes committed in the name of God.
It's the Ideal everyone wants to reach
Closer to God is the sacred haught
The politics and economy is secretly sought
Are selling dreams, these fanatic bigots
Yet all crimes committed in the name of God
Shia against Sunnis or Deobandi, Barelvie
All worship same God, still at odd
Conspiring and scheming
Considers oneself a believer, but others NOT
Yet all crimes committed in the name of God
Slaughtering innocents, calling it Jihad
Ruthless are these savage lots
Salvation of afterlife seeking
Atonement for this one, never thought
Yet all crimes committed in the name of God.
poem by Samima Shah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chimneys of Lime
I’ve walked at your ruins
To seek out your history,
Charted the runes of you
Stone upon stone,
I’m left with damp walls
And a sense of some mystery;
What tamed the pride
That led on to your fall?
Some spirit entangled you
Lived in you yesterday,
Drove you, dispersed, and then
Lay you down still,
Now all that is left
Is grim ruin and disarray,
Relics of life,
Strength of purpose, and will.
Cairns and old bones at
The granite-hard cemetery,
Mounds where no markers
Recall you to name,
Time has dispensed with
All need for your mimicry,
Art has replaced what
We thought to reclaim.
Each one that wonders will
Carry the seeds of you,
Sense all the needs of you
Time upon time,
And walk the sad ruins
That long life will lead us to,
Crumble tall hopes
Like your chimneys of lime.
In search of some answer
I tap your foundations,
I sound each stone wall that
Encapsulates time,
Your dearth and your downfall
Exceed your dimensions,
I walk at your ruins,
Tread softly your rhyme.
13 March 1983
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hey.. My Lies!
Hey..my lies!
Where are your confluences
With my words?
Is it in the jungles of my mind?
Or in the caves of my throat?
Or at the oar of my tongue?
Or else on the mounds of my lips?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Once A Place Of Natural Beauty
Once a place of natural beauty for all to be enjoyed
Due to the financial greed of developers the park has been destroyed
Most of the trees shelter for the ringtail and brush tail possums have been cut away
It is an ugly sight that I do gaze upon today.
Huge mounds of earth and clay dug up by bulldozers an ugly sight to see
The destruction of natural habitat for development does seem all wrong to me
The birds and tree dwelling animals need every bush and tree
The financial greed of the wealthy few give rise to Nature's poverty.
The money hungry developers they do not understand
That you render most of the local wildlife homeless when you take from them their land
That in their fights for new territories many of them will die
These are known facts I speak of and facts do never lie.
Just mounds of earth and white clay where beauty did reside
Most of the birds and animals who lived here through dispossession would have died
The destruction of their natural habitat to extinction only lead
For many of Nature's birds and animals losing out to human greed.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Ignore The Pain
to ignore the pain
like there is nothing between
us,
on this critical time of our lives
either one must leave
or one must shut up
away from
the other, closed like all the fingers hiding something
but it is just the beginning of something bigger
something
is gritting beneath, underneath the thickness of the flesh
something gnashes
it grows
expands and multiplies and branches out like
cancer
the pain with roots and tendrils
there is a time
for reckoning
the mounds protrude from the bones
and your mouth can no longer swallow
everything
fed to you
you cannot be ignored anymore like a bomb hidden
under the floor
you explode
lives will be claimed
the people will mourn for a while
and there you are
saying
justice is served
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
After a dry spell
On the Katipunan plains
Between those
Mounds of mud
And plain sand
Just beginning to grow
Glimpses
Of green grass
The rain is giving
Like my love
For you
After a dry spell
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On a level plain, simple mounds look like hills; and the insipid flatness of our present bourgeoisie is to be measured by the altitude of its great intellects.
Doom's Day Prophecy
A tongue of dust, a mouth of clay
with patches of goodness
happy with mundane things
the soul still pines in sorrow and agony
and as the fullness of time sinks abroad
the sun shines with harsh realities
opinion talks tough of ill-fortunes
where a spot defiles a preacher
minted furnace burps, and broaden
the mountains flee from their mounds
into vallies of abyssmality
tall trees, shrubs, and little plants too.
poem by Justice Ominipus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Campfire Meal
There is nothing like a meal
From a flaming hot campfire
It cooks the kind of food
For which you’ll never tire
A slow cooked smoky brisket
The best you ever got
Along with homemade biscuits
Cooked right in a iron pot
The beans are so hot and spicy
Your taste buds will yell hooray
The food is so delicious
I don’t know just what to say
The sweet corn and potatoes
Are cooked on the campfire too
Grab a plate and get in line
That’s just what you want to do
It’s the cowboy way of cooking
I’ll grab some firewood
Join us at the Rockin L & H
Where nothing else tastes as good!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!