I Looked Out at Life with Holocaust Eyes
I looked out at life with Holocaust eyes
And what better did I know that I had been
looking through the lens of guilt and affliction,
Seeing life amiss and askew through my Holocaust guilt,
This fatal flaw was burning in my eyes
and how it lay siege to my Jewish heart,
A Greek tragedy in the making all of these years,
The guilt rose from deeply sealed vaults
inside my Jewish eyes and heart,
I could not help but see life through my Holocaust eyes,
Until these Holocaust pangs smoldered and burned
its acrid smoke in my eye sockets,
I peeled away its painful gauze and ace bandages,
My eyes had once lamented over the Holocaust afflictions,
But now I could see with clarion eyes and feel anew
with my Jewish heart by virtue of Holocaust healing balm,
As it clarified the lens, fluid and muscles of my eyes,
And now this healing balm paved a shimmering path within me,
For my Jewish heart to emerge and then shine its splendor
outwards on straight and forward path of life.
poem by Alan Freshman
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Related quotes
Why Do I Have To Remember The Holocaust?
Why do I have to remember the
Holocaust?
The reason that I have to remember the
Holocaust is because that is part of my heritage
And my father was a jew from
Baghdad
Also I am half
Jewish
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Jewish immigration in the 20th century was fueled by the Holocaust, which destroyed most of the European Jewish community. The migration made the United States the home of the largest Jewish population in the world.
quote by Jon Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Holocaust
My head swirls
My ears ring
You say i'm going to live
When i know i'm going to leave
This is my life in the Holocaust
Where i watched so many die
While i tried to my family alive
The man i love
Was treated like a thug
Beaten and flung
But still he humed
This is the Holocaust
Where people fought
Who would of thought
That we would all be lost
We all tried to servive
Just to see the light
But it only makes me want to fight
To try to get back my free life
With each hit
The seed grows
Until it almost overflows
I saw all my friends die
And i think i'm going to cry
So i look at the sky
Then i see your blue eyes
You wrap me in your arms
While you sing our song
You say i shouldnt give them anything
Not even my fear
You call me your Krasivaya
While you kissed my neck
I swore not to cry
How did i end up in the arms of a boy i barely knew
While i wished i'd never lose you to
So you whispered look at me
I'll see you siin
So just think about that
Just think about me
Because i'll be there.
Genesis Of Genocide
GENESIS OF GENOCIDE
Jewish history comes with homily,
the seder shared by all the family
the best example. When men talk about
the Holocaust the homilies they're taught
homogenize the fate that menaced us
the Jews, with that of gentiles. Genesis
of genocide is changed: the hermeneutic
of revision makes it therapeutic
for those who wish to drive Jews from their land.
"The Jews, " they say, "have like the Nazis sinned,
creating victims just as Nazis did,
replacing Hitler with the settlers' God, "
revisionists exclaiming "Out of order! "
when hearing at the end of every seder
the mantra, "Next year in Jerusalem! "
while they as chauvinists condemn
the Jews, in spite of their thousand years
of blood and sweat and toil, and lots of tears,
as then in Jewish wounds rub salt, declaring
that there were other holocausts, comparing
other genocidal horrors to
what happened to the Jews, a point of view
that totally distorts significance of what,
in Wannsee, Hitler's minions chose to plot,
reducing the Solution that was Final
to a competition's quarterfinal.
The greatest homily of Jewish history
is Jews' survival, a great mystery
which it's impossible to overhype,
based on the theme of their great anthem, hope.
The last part of this poem was inspired by an emotional outburst that I had after Gerald Duchovnay told Linda, Florence Zhou and me about how he teaches students in Texas about the Holocaust by using the Shoah to explain to them "the holocaust in Sudan."
Ed Rothstein ("Memories of Holocaust, Fortified, " NYT,4/22/11) writes from Skokie:
Before the $45 million Illinois Holocaust Museum & Education Center opened here two years ago, there was some urgency in completing its 65,000-square-foot building, which now stands so incongruously monumental in the midst of Chicago's suburban landscape. At one time,7,000 Jews bearing the scars of the Holocaust had lived in Skokie with their families, and they were aging. Many had contributed artifacts to the museum; some participated when it was just a storefront on Main Street; some had their oral histories recorded for its exhibition and their lives chronicled in the institution's imposing companion book, "Memory and Legacy."…..
If we want to find a lesson in the events, for example, is it that individuals should not be bystanders or that nations should not be appeasers? Is the lesson that everybody should have a social conscience, or that a different kind of political action is needed when such forces emerge? Was the Holocaust a product of intolerance or an expression of more specific archetypal hatreds?
One of the challenges faced by Holocaust museums as survivors die is to understand their experience by seeing it through more than their eyes, to examine the past without homogenizing it with platitudes, to offer history without homily.
This poem echoes one that I wrote on 2/17/09, inspired by a statement by the Lubavitcher Rebbe:
TOMORROW MORNING, EARLY
"Will there be another holocaust? "
they asked the Rebbe of Lubavitch.
For an answer he was never lost.
"Of course there will be. Man is savage."
"When will this happen? " they inquired.
"Morgen in der frih, " he said,
Tomorrow morning, early, has transpired,
and millions are already dead.
It's happened in Rwanda and Sudan,
as in silence we looked on.
It couldn't happen here, we say. It can,
and millions more will soon be gone.
Long ago an interviewer asked the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, if he believed the Holocaust could ever happen in America. "Morgen in der frih, " was his reply, Yiddish words that mean: "Early tomorrow morning."
11/6/12 #11803
poem by Gershon Hepner
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What Is A Jewish Poem?
WHAT IS A JEWISH POEM?
What is a Jewish poem?
‘Shema’ is a Jewish poem
Perhaps the Jewish poem-
'Shmoneh Esreh' is comprised of Jewish poems
Nineteen prayers as one-
Our history is filled with Jewish poems-
From the beginning with Abraham and Sarah
Those who have given so much beyond our understanding -
Jewish poems everywhere -
Is each Jewish life a poem and a story also?
Or is it only those who give something to our people and history
Who are worthy of Poetry?
I have known many Jewish poems
People the great world will not know the names of
People who whether they walked humbly or not
Made the lives of others better in some way –
Kindness is perhaps the ultimate Jewish poem
And Justice also-
And Jewish poems are not without their contradictions –
As I write this poem in Jerusalem in the land of Israel
I think of the small Jewish world of Troy New York where I came from so many years ago
And miss so many people no longer of that and this world –
Longing for Israel for two thousand years was the Jewish poem
Living here now is a blessing and a gift
I thank God for.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Six Million Reasons
the World:
doesn’t mess-over the Jews,
like it used to,
since they built them
a Country,
that’s definitely, a
“holocaust of trouble”
for anybody,
thinkin’ final solution
for Israel’s army.
ain’t no more,
crematorium ovens
planned in their...
Jewish future! ! !
poem by Ronald Stroman
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Golden Blue
Moonlight shimmering,
Glass of reflection
Lies reflecting on the pane,
Into our very eyes.
Her blue eyes shining with the pain of one thousand years,
Her golden hair ragged, from years of ware.
Mirrors reflect the image of our world.
Windows see through our blank expressions.
If that Golden Blue can't find you,
Wrench your heart,
The tears of suffering and torture,
The blue eyes of a cracked life,
Of loss, suffering, and depression,
A life that is lost.
If you can blankly stare at the face of death,
And feel no emotion,
If you can watch pain and laugh,
and still, feel no emotion.
You are anything but human. A person.. not worthy of a title.
A world's dying gasp, a human's pulse gone.
Mass murder, Genocide, is there nothing we can't do?
Just to please ourselves, and find love through hate.
Eyes of blue, shimmering with a thousand years of pain,
Golden hair faded from ware,
Star of David, hanging from her sunburned neck,
Dangling there, as a sign of:
Dignity, Bravery, Hope, and Severity.
What sign, is there better, to represent young Golden Blue?
~ Holocaust Remembrance Week~
An Apology on Behalf of the Human Race
As the dignity of the human spirit never waned
In the forlorn look on the Jewish face and their race
As endured thru decades of the slime of degradation
By Gestapo secret police who had no secrets of their damned intent
To build camps on foundations deep in the abyss of hell
Clogged with a dismal cast of human expiration
The devils cloud desecrates the sky of star witness
Above the dead end train stop of Auschwitz
The Fuehrer’s anti -semenistic breath bred life into his monster web
And the tribe followed.
To dwell on the horror which is well documented I decline
But
I Apologise on Behalf of the Human Race
I apologise from the bottom of my heart
I apologise for all those lies
I apologise for closed doors
I apologise for closed eyes
How on earth could the Holocaust happen?
Lest We Forget
poem by Ken e Hall
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The Holocaust committed by the Nazis turned this country, where most of the European Jews used to live and where their culture used to flourish, into a massive grave. This is why initiatives to revive Jewish culture in Poland is so important.
quote by Marek Belka
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pangs Of Love
How does it feel, how can I tell
in my heart, it seems,
there rings a bell
Unfaltered, moving, palling along,
my thoughts wander,
I sing a song
It seems funny, I feel I am lost,
I find myself in a holocaust
My emotions swing, my heart does burn,
towards where, I know not, my life does turn
My heart, I muse, for whom does it crave
I stand baffled, like an innocent knave,
who knows he has lost, but can't accept defeat,
who can praise her beauty, but her eyes cannot meet
I must gather courage, and break this shell,
To her I must confess, all I must tell,
With no thought of if I'll win or lose
If my love is true, she would me surely choose.
poem by Vishnu Sampoorn
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My Fathers Eyes
(by eric clapton)
Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
Thats when I need them,
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
Im like a bridge that was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart
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Optical illusion
eyes see everything what the heart feels, for
only the eyes tell the meaning of the heart, nay
the soul reveals what the heart defines that
the window of the soul, is the illusion of the eyes
all, that is described of the eyes, would mean, so
real and true, yet! illusion, sway the truth that all
is just a beginning of everything, a deception that
leads us to nothing
as life believe on something, which touches human
experiences, and the struggle to win, every feeling to
see the meaning of what is real, the emotion fills
the heart, that defines the significance of life
eyes satisfy the inner value of the heart, but the
soul purified the incense of the immortality of eternity,
all that we have seen, create something that may
brings us to blindness of the gift of life
an illusion of optical lens that break us into a pieces of
broken heart, an array of souls into a limbo of nowhere
to live, a place of every nuts cross between fingers, a
darkest moment in our soul
leave no doubt in our hearts, open your soul, don't let
your chance to allure, what the eyes see, rather take the
best in you, feel it in your heart and let the soul surf the
excellent of what is meaningful in your life
move on..... never give up.... your heart can find it......
poem by Antonio Liao
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SS Demons
I artist
razor at throat
painted
a canvas life crime
I artist
fish hooks in flesh
wrote
a Holocaust Files.
Why is it popularist
history
remembers only half...
12 million killed, tortured
enslaved by vile sub-human SS
demons during World War II?
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also The Holocaust Files!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Ever So Motherly Limbs
It’s no holds barred in the venal
Contagions of the sound:
I almost have $200,000 dollars and
A c&ck as hard as spikenard,
And a Jewish lip that I want to press as fat
As a cherry red mollusk who’s been making
Its fornicating rounds around the sea,
Who has been eating legumes and thinking of
You and all the sounds you make with your
Husband deep in the crèches of your bed;
And I just want to move up and wet my pants
In your basin,
Maybe once hold the gossip of your hands,
And throw back your spirits and count the changing
Of my wounds,
Perhaps fart and navigate for one afternoon through
The mausoleum of your rooms:
Sharon, I am not beautiful, but I can go on and on,
Meaningless and harmless, erecting my art like
A child,
Looking up for your holocaust eyes, because any mortal
Could die into them,
And I have given up, and I am no good while the
Police are not around. If you saw me
You would think me imperfect, and I was.
You would love my brother in law just because,
But I want to be perfect, perfectly asleep in the moving
Shadow, the zoetrope and perfumed orchard
Of your ever so motherly limbs.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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I Am Your Holocaust
Stars create an imperfect design of the perfect holocaust
I take the form of a terminal disease and there's no way to rid yourself of me
The impending doom will not pause itself for any man
God can't save anyone from me, he won't hear your prayers
That figment of your imagination called your dignity will falter in time
The waves will crash down on you from your lack of motivation
You can do anything you set your mind to, but it won't save you
Face the fact that your end is near
I am your holocaust
poem by Dave Brucker
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In Her Eyes
I saw something strange
To me in her eyes.
In her eyes
It looks like an opal,
Always change colours.
Her eyes alway loquacious
To me because
It flesh like sea stone.
When i look her eyes,
I feel shy.
In her eyes
It looks like flash Of lightening in the dark,
strike like thunder in rainy.
Because it phobic in nature.
Because of your eyes
My heart is for free
My heart is the
Price for your eyes.
In her eyes
Your eyes ice my heart always.
My heart beat 72 times per min...
Because your eyes beat 36 times per min...
Take my heart and go
May be my heart can free from your eyes.
Eyesphobic
unm...
I love it.
poem by Ejalonibu Abraham
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I don't really know of the Jewish tradition of comedy, only the Jewish tradition of not keeping your mouth shut. Complaining about all that is hard, unfair or ridiculous in life-having strong feelings, and not being able to suppress them. That, to me, is Jewish.
quote by Fred Melamed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Moon
With the heart of a holocaust
It's no wonder my pale skin
Is black and swollen with truth.
Open wounded scars revel
In their shine, reminding me
Of the narcissistic infant inside.
He's the liquid cocaine burning
Through her veins & he's beautiful.
You can see the darkness in his eyes,
Endless oceans of suffocating starlight
[Still in motion]
His brother, bright Orion,
the climax of ignorance.
Every fiber of my being clings to the
Reflecting moonlight. But she's cold,
Detached, & evading my frozen fingertips.
Even the sun is just a page
In her Book of Illiteracy. I can be
Nothing more than the shadow of her mistakes.
Thus I lie in the dust of a never-ending fairytale
Next to me, the fading image of daybreak.
poem by Jay Spence
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Tears & Fire
Blue is the tears in my eyes
Red is the fire in my heart
The fire will never die out
The fire in my heart is what keeps me alive
The tears in my eyes is what makes me die.
If i could control the tears in my eyes
The flames in my heart I would
My heart is like a hell
I am caged inside
I can't escape my self, there is still rage inside my heart
The tears are my hopes and dreams fading away
They are my strength
They are my thoughts that keep me from dying
The flames in my heart are the pain and guilt that builds up inside
poem by Crystal Woods
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