Evil Holocaust Poems

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Details | Free verse |
Words For Those With No Voice

For every pair of shoes
All the burnt bones and woes
In the millions, in the mud
All died alone

Starving of food and having lost our souls
Our god abandoned us so
Mother father
Sister brother
Fuel for the Reich, we lay slaughtered

Some of us were saved
By those whose honor made them brave
We must salute them all, the bold and the dead
Even if we have only skeletons to mark their stead

Now that time has passed
There will be contests, it will be a blast
Who wins first? Who wins third?
The holocaust deserves no prize
Why must we die twice, this is absurd?

Honor me with a prayer
A poem
A moment of silence
A heart felt thought about humanity
Prose and verse, to remember the atrocities
This is the honor of men of a higher velocity

Never make a circus of the horrific gas chambers
A contest of who makes the horrors more real or titillating
Its not you the writer or the reader that feels
It’s us gassed and burned and buried with our id numbers
Asleep in the fields in slumber

Yellow stars fading away in silence, in tears
No grave markers to shout out of atrocious fears

The subtly of honor is lost on the crass
Maybe it’s them who should be buried under this grass

I realize this is a delicate issue, I wrote this poem only because is of my opinion, that having a contest on such issues unless for specific venues, causes, etc. is somewhat tasteless. There is no right or wrong, this is simply by view or take on things and thus have expressed so via this poem. A contest implies a prize or reward even be it praise, and so to profit from so many peoples suffering, well I have explained why. However that being said, any expression or illustration dedicated to honoring and bringing to the light such atrocities, is a different issue. 

That being said good intentions are just that, no matter how misguided they may be. We should be grateful we live where we are free to express our sentiments, feelings and beliefs, without fear of repercussion, and that by its very nature will mean many have diverse opinions and views on any issue.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
War crime trials had come and gone
And Nuremberg became old news
But there were some who would escape
They packed their bags, with no remorse
Changing names, and hid away
They had shamed the course of history

They had slithered through the cracks of time
from the lowest form of man's intent 
There was no gray, just black or white
The blackest black defaced the way
humanity was meant to be

Some trails of slime don't wash away
As years went by,  new wars ensued
Old men, by now, like snakes reside
in masquerade, and false pretense
while rejoicing in the news today,
in hopes cold crimes have been forgot
But cowardice remains alive
A holocaust of man's design

Humanity must not give up 
And wickedness will not command
For justice seeks its own reward
and somehow fate will have its day

We pray these reptiles spent their years
slinking low, like snakes, they are, 
haunted by the ghosts of war , thinking of the millions gone
thinking of the things they've done…sinking deeper in the grave
spending days, while drinking fear,  
instead of drinking coffee in the cafés of Berlin

Inspired by Contest: "A Last Line Prompt"
Sponsor: Julia Ward

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
I was only twelve back then,
It seems like yesterday.
I suppose these terrifying memories I have,
Will never go away.

Gendarmes after Gendarmes,
Came to our town.
They took my oldest brothers,
And shot them to the ground.

My heart began to sink,
As my Mother screamed and cried.
She sat beside their bleeding bodies,
A part of us just died.

Early one morning,
I woke to a sound.
It was hundreds of Armenians,
Marching out of town.

Soon after they took my Father,
They came back for us.
They told us to quiet,
So there would be no fuss.

We marched and we marched,
To a dark rancid inn.
With the hope and wonder,
Of ever seeing daylight again.

My brother Sisak and I,
Escaped from their evil wrath.
We walked back to Bitlis,
On a well beaten path.

We searched for food,
Just like we said we would.
We wished and we prayed,
But it didn't do any good.

My brother soon starved to death,
But I had to carry on.
To tell this story of a Forgotten Fire,
A battle that I won.

The Turkish soldiers came,
And caused so much strife.
They wanted to kill everyone,
Obliterate all Armenian life.

I was only twelve back then,
It seems like yesterday.
I suppose these terrifying memories I have,
Will never go away.

Copyright © Misty Johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |
Dark Spells

As a clock running in black circles down
Distant stars lighting reddish fairy gowns,
Earthen pastures in darkness all aglow,
Awaiting dawn's eager cock to thrice crow.

Two wagging tails on huge fantastic birds
flying with dust stirring African herds,
For life in wailing pain must thus this bring,
curses spun from magical, hellish ring.

Night-winds ill blowing with green, nasty stench
coming calamity, sure-fire cinch,
Time and Fate conspire with evil blood-lusts
removing hope and adding deep the rusts.

Dragon pair emerging to life consume.
Old hag weaving spells on wicked loom.

Robert J. Lindley, 12-31-2016

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Soft like sheep
The Clan in white sheets
Full of indignation
And ignorance
They march to their own battle cries
Care not for innocents who have to die
Their cause though evil, noble in their eyes
As Hamas, they burn those with education who decry
The violent aggressions 

Their deceptive practices and petty battles
Become pretty slogans for the misguided ones

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Analysis read—and wronged—and pulled
Lulled into our idealistic mess
Words no longer ours but hung distress
Farced in carnality—they are ruled

Soundness remains what we will believe 
And all else is but tethered nonsense
Clinched tightly in unfriendly absence
Overcome in overwrought relief

The judges judge on behalf of tongue
When ears and eyes close achingly tight
And perhaps in woe we find them right
For witches sought and bound must be hung!

Lower than the softened dirt that cures
Where worms in halves blindly come to eat
The higher crush with tormented feat
And the suns scorch what is left of hers

Answers never tried—and cured to hide
They look to superior sources
The rotten are the strongest forces
Ripened and toughened with bequeathed pride

-Iambic Tetrameter
Contest: Metrical verse
Sponsor: Giorgio Veneto
Laura Breidenthal

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |
Southern love,  Southern hate 
they are the opposite of each other 
 I have  memories of both in the State I love dearly.

Going back to a old plantation home in the South ,
as a child I played in the many Pecan trees , collecting baskets upon baskets of fresh pecans .

the smell of fresh pies , of pecan and rhubarb , oh my Mom took the prize .

One afternoon , School was out , it was in summer  , reminisce of fresh lemonade 
My Mother called my name 'child come in here now " in the middle of the day ' 
she many times called and I would hide in this paradise full of honeysuckle and pecans .

This time the tone was one of fear , and alert , "come inside Now"
 I ran to the top of the old plantation stairs to my Mother .
I saw in the distance what seemed to be a parade in the day .

This time the parade was of people in "white sheets ' going door to door,
just like salesman they would knock , they would greet .
my Mother said " We have no time for this here " leave now , and leave fast. yours is only teachings of Discriminate .

she sent them quickly away , giving back the paper , the invite 
These people dressed in funny white  sheets .  
only later I discovered what this was about 
Your Parents do their very best , to keep any Evil out .

These people are not just from the South , they are all over the World 
Leaving me that day with no doubt . Make the choice you have , we all do
Remember Gods Children are innocent , and many a color , they could be Blue ~

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Suffer not o man she cried desperate for consolation
Compassion twisted and tore at her heart 
but the world she knew was silent.

Painful sounds from death filled wars, would wound her more
than jagged poison tipped arrows that pierced much too deeply.
And yet she carried on in quiet song as the world she knew kept silent.

And if the dying weren't enough, the sight of bloated bellies
and distraught mothers and sacked villages laid bare
by the unwilled force of child soldiers, would crush her spirit. 
How could the world she knew keep silent?

Thinking that God did not understand her despair 
She wept with abeyant tears that could not flow 
as the world she knew kept silent.

To live, to die in the soiled spattered flow of time
passing through, passing through
Is the secret so sublime? Cannot she grieve? 
Then silence no more was heard.

Instead a curious word within emerged 
from her meditation of life's graces
a Hebrew word "Bitachon"
What was not known in agonies 
was revealed in her silence.

C.A.K. 1-9-201

Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
A thunder-clap, the storms approach
Each eerie revelation
No hope for man
Nor none for 'roach
A prophetic annihilation

The World awaits, a harrowed end
Apocalyptic measures
Mans soul, it hangs
Tentative, it bends
Ensnared, in its false treasures

The evening veil of darkness
Accomplice, to the Moon
Covers up its naked secret
A portent clear
A harbinger of doom

His end, long in the making
A teardrop in the Ocean
Damned eternal
He waits there, shaking
Unsaved, in his devotion

Arch-Angels, weep eternal
Both wings and hands are tied
The Wind it cuts
The Rain can never
Wash clear Infernal ties

Faith, leaves you , at the Alter
Tattooed, in your own shame
In Times of War
In Trial by Fire
Death, calls you by your name

A Tribute to Edgar Allen Poe...

Copyright © peter walsh | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |
    Visit To Auschwitz
I wish to hear the names long laid to rest
forgotten in their time, an empty prayer,
who wanted nothing more, through life's long quest
than just to know some good's alive somewhere;

their black and white of days, we'll never know,
wreak havok to the minds who hold back tears,
and though I hold them back, they have to flow
so they are not forgotten through the years.

I'd sing the children songs, if I could sing,
of life and love and better ways to be,
and if I thought my song would ever bring
one ray of hope, I'd sing til death of me!

But wordless are the songs, now echoing
from times when death was all a prayer could bring.
© Ron Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee bBdosa the Doylestown Poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
She watched the towers fall to earth that pristine, young fall morn.
She saw the skies so clear and blue and then the clear was gone.
As horror filled her inner soul; her heart and mind were lead.
The towers crumbled one by one . . and everyone was dead.

Harsh sobs came forth from deep inside, but still her face was dry.
More sadness than a tear could bear; her eyes refused to cry.
She prayed to God: then called Him out. She begged Him intervene.
As all the while the horror grew, with each new ghastly scene.

The day wore on becoming night: grey ash and twisted steel.
So much to work through in her mind; how could this all be real?
"You need to cry", she spoke aloud; you need assuage your soul.
You need to sob: make peace with God, if your faith's to remain whole”.

Yet still the tears refused to come, denied her all relief.
It seemed that tears could not begin to lessen untold grief.
Then came a truth from deep inside, meant for her . . and me.
“If you could cry for what you've seen, you'd overflow each sea”.

“If tears would pay for all the pain that man has caused to man;
Salt lakes would one day cover, what was once earth's arid land.
Could tears atone for every lesser creature man's abused,
More water from the eyes would flow, than earth could ever use”.

“Tears surely meant to bathe this sphere, like soft and healing rain;
The air and soil and streams befouled for mankind's worldly gain.
Why earth would be a pale blue orb . . a landless, liquid ball.
Could tears atone for man's misdeeds; no earth would show at all”.

Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |
Brave Conquerors Of Weakened Tribes

They could never in any great haste
their false glory dare to forsake.
Why abandon that gleam in their eyes
for truth in those sad tomorrows?

Dwell not in that bitter splendor
A victor with a yellow wreath.
In pride hide being a lying pretender
never giving up what fate bequeath!

Restless spirits from vanquished foes
can not invade that haughty parade.
Brave conquerors of weakened tribes
living out a false, arrogant charade.

History now reveals the dishonor disguised.
And tales of false victories cleverly contrived!

Robert J. Lindley, 10-14-2015

Note- http://www.iearn.org/hgp/aeti/aeti-1...americans.html

In the past, the main thrust of the Holocaust/Genocide Project's magazine, An End To Intolerance, has been the genocides that occurred in history and outside of the United States. Still, what we mustn't forget is that mass killing of Native Americans occurred in our own country. As a result, bigotry and racial discrimination still exist.

"In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue" . . . and made the first contact with the "Indians." For Native Americans, the world after 1492 would never be the same. This date marked the beginning of the long road of persecution and genocide of Native Americans, our indigenous people. Genocide was an important cause of the decline for many tribes.

"By conservative estimates, the population of the United states prior to European contact was greater than 12 million. Four centuries later, the count was reduced by 95% to 237 thousand.

In 1493, when Columbus returned to the Hispaniola, he quickly implemented policies of slavery and mass extermination of the Taino population of the Caribbean. Within three years, five million were dead. Las Casas, the primary historian of the Columbian era, writes of many accounts of the horrors that the Spanish colonists inflicted upon the indigenous population: hanging them en mass, hacking their children into pieces to be used as dog feed, and other horrid cruelties. The works of Las Casas are often omitted from popular American history books and courses because Columbus is considered a hero by many, even today.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Adolf Hitler was the most evil of men As evil as a human could be Should've been hung by his you know whats Before his killing spree They say he was actually a human being I certainly have my doubts Wreaking havoc on a whole race of people What was all that about Perhaps he was the devil reincarnated Or maybe Genghis Khan Shouldn't make light of his murderous exploits Purely just an evil man Can't imagine it will ever happen again The world's a lot saner now Ya right! Guess I'm sounding a bit delusional A lunatic out on the prowl <3 <3 <3 © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
SILENCE CONDONES DU & DRONES ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ McEmpire's Dollar menu Serves up fast kills - Who pays the bills? Spent uran'yum? - Small watts; big ill. To store, or $ell? Makes heavy shell. Blasts through walls well. Recycled hell. Deployed now, $well! The order's passed: Deep fried dark ass. The searing flash, Such menu class: Crispy critters! Some sauce? Must ask. Breathe toxic gas. Eat here? To go? Death swift, then slow. Too late to know the drift; winds blow a deadly flow, through lungs, where go the silent blows to genes, thus sown such seeds of woe. Fallujahns know. War profits grow, Health defects show. Yet who will know how was bestowed this plague of glow? With press in tow; Truth's shaft - sans bow. Sick Vets soon go Six feet below - More graves to mow. Their health care dough Drops to ZERO! Life's value: Low. We watch the show; Lost in the flow - To war we go, So few say: NO! Safe status quo Lets madness grow. This shadow foe Strikes deep its blow. We've sunk so low. We make no row. No threat we pose To leaders, those Who send the drones that bomb the homes In target zones. Crushed fam'lies moan. While killer clones Just count scorched bones. Silence Condones!

Copyright © Richard Ledford | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
Cast in stone and written in blood Are the ideals of a lost nation? Paving the returned ashes of the ancients Their patience wore thin by the actions of the passionless Armed in tools for a journey with no set direction But their steps forward Matter to no particular purpose but a means to no end Instead to destruction Is their surrounds with earth shattering sound to deaf ears In the hope That the blind see and fear the renowned vision of tears And overcome by what comes over With a supernova of banished spirits carving out time In hope to expose The sickened seconds and momentary minutes into hours Those who have powers Will note the swinging vote they wield Those who are in this field Have only the word as a shield Blood spilled and dead, limp, bodies Will be served on the far vision Multiple weaponry Will be the cutlery of the day's dishing From the table view, only red is seen Because all that within is left on the scene Those who were framed in this picture Can only refer to the Revelations of scripture Those who were in erratic panic Had to mirror the ignorance that of "Titanic" How can men put their belief in false security? As survivors of today were fooled by the hope of tomorrow Let’s not borrow the bravado of a lost society Because Christianity is the true model we should follow.

Copyright © siza sibiya | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose |
The darkened chambers pierce the veil of sanity,
cold lifeless air surrounds and crushes like a vice,
eerie silence cannot muffle the wailing voices entombed,
death by evil, pure evil, permeates the flesh.

George Aul


For "Four Lines" contest sponsored by Broken Wings.

Copyright © George Aul | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |
Still streaking down their lonely cheeks,
so many tears are shed.
With cries throughout the longest nights,
those nightmares are widespread.

I've maybe heard them once or twice,
but please bear this in mind -
there's so much shopping I must do
and outfits I must find.
The birthday parties I attend,
the weddings, funerals too -
and holidays are coming soon.
Oh, what am I to do?

Or maybe I am all wrapped up
inside my fav'rite teams -
the one that's in the playoffs now
fulfilling this fan's dreams.
For those who live outside my world,
how can I really care?
What can I do while I am here -
and they are over there?

To rescue someone?  Tell me how.
They don't live next to me.
How can I hear their cries for help
when they, I cannot see?
Once unaware of torture, my
snug ignorance was bliss.
But why should I now waste any time
here telling you all this?

The raping, loss of self-respect
and murdering of girls,
can't push important things aside
like shopping now for pearls.
Do I hurt anybody?  No!
It's Jesus I exalt.
So do not tug at my heart strings.
Their pain is not my fault!

And don't think I'm not thankful here
in warm and toasty bed -
between my clean, soft cotton sheets
as pillow hugs my head.
 But muffled screams - I hear them now.
They, in my mem-ries, stay.
They linger through the cold, dark nights
and pester me all day.

Oh, who can hear those victims scream
through distant, starry nights?
And who can hear survivors cries
from cruel and futile fights?
Though innocent, survivors moved.
They had no other choice.
They lost their homes and furniture
and with it all, their voice.

I cannot see those makeshift tents
or taste what they call food.
I cannot stop those terrorists
or change my attitude.
I'm done with sports and shopping now
and buying myself stuff.
Their screams have fin'lly reach my ears.
I've failed them long enough.

I do not buy new outfits now.
And football's not my game.
I'm focused on the "least of these".
My life is not the same.
I once thought it important here.
I now no longer do.
I'll start by giving all I can
to come to their rescue.

It's serious, the plight they're in.
Please understand their worth.
As sin runs rampant over weak
around this evil earth.
Our Congressmen must focus too
while evil men connive.
Please vote to stop the terrorists
to save those still alive.

Still streaking down their lonely cheeks,
so many tears are shed.
With cries throughout the longest nights,
those nightmares are widespread.

©2016 lg ganderpoems.org

Copyright © louis gander | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Tomorrow We Remember
By Franklin Price

Tomorrow we remember
With solemn thoughts recall
The horror of that morning
We would watch the towers fall

Standing high and mighty
They were the tallest of the tall
Would be standing there forever
We would watch the towers fall

Was a beautiful blue morning
Would be ruined by the gall
Of an unspeakable act of terror
We would watch the towers fall

One plane into each tower flew
Each with hellish fire ball
Exploding there on impact
We would watch the towers fall

In just the blinking of an eye
Manhattan covered by a pall
Thousands dead or would be dying
We would watch the towers fall

Into the mayhem heroes came
Responding to the call
To rescue anyone they could
We would watch the towers fall

As we witnessed on TV
Minds reeling with appall
Felt the need for retribution
As we watched the towers fall

Fifteen years have come and gone
Tomorrow painful  for us all
Remembering just where we were
When we watched the towers fall

Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse |
The dying leaves and decaying bark
The ether of silent sorrow stark
The earth feels like a distant moon
The sun, a glowing bloom, totally helpless to their doom.

Nothing here can be real
Nothing here can we feel except disgust, anger, sorrow and hatred mixed
No sound but the whimpering of lost souls
They can't even cry - they're just bags of bones

Swallow deep, swallow hard
Straighten your back, stand hard
Fight back tears, fists lock behind your back
Clenched jaw ringing in your ears
This sight will never leave your fears

How can man be brought to this?
How can man do this, yet love and kiss?

What other animal on the earth
Is so destructive to its fellow birth?

What other animal is so cruel?
We stand and look on like pathetic fools

The gates are forced, these people can't run
They stand around, they can't speak but they're not dumb!
Stacked in piles, all dignity erased
Burning flesh, a damn awful smell of senseless, barbaric waste

They proceed through the camp
Each step harder as more are found
Hardened, liberating soldiers fall to their knees
Crying, afraid of what they can see
They trained for war, they didn't train for this.
They were prepared to die, they weren't prepared for this.

This stain of shame will always remain human, for this can not be forgiven, for this can not be forgotten

It's hard to comprehend
It's hard to understand
How men can create hell on earth?
How men can create concentration camps?

Copyright © T.I.R.O. JY | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |
They say it did not happen 
That we did not really see 
The horror's and the sadness
That the Holocaust would be 
They say it's just not true 
That there was never any plan
To kill every boy and girl, woman and Jewish man
They say they were simply, casualties of a violent war 
But the proof is there for us to see 
In what they had in store 
There are pictures of the death camps 
Of the survivors thin and pale 
Of the ovens that were fired 
And the smell of death so stale 
In the mass graves that littered the land 
In the experiments that they documented so freely 
In the letters from loved ones, long gone 
In the asset's seized 
And to the victor went the spoils 
As the Jewish people died, staved and toiled 
In the concentration camps 
With names we should always keep in mind
Mauthausen and Gusen 
and Treblinka 
Like letters of the alphabet 
Should be stored in memory for all time 
Yes, they try to say it was not real 
That it was all a lie 
That six million Jewish people did not really die 
But the simple truth lies waiting for the world to find 
So remember our history 
Pass it down your family line 
Our children now so far removed from these tragic times
Need to have reminders
To ensure that they don't develop blinders 
To the evil that filled the land 
And of the dictator Hitler with all his mass destruction plans
Yes, it did happen 
No matter what they do or say 
History can never be erased 
As long as we remember it that way 
So for all the lives and families that the Holocaust destroyed 
We must continue to remember the suffering and the pain 
So we can be prepared should such evil call on us again 
Lest we forget 
And others will die 
As evil is the only thing that could tell such a lie!

Copyright © Bernadette Langer | Year Posted 2006

Details | Kyrielle |
Fathers are beaten, crucified,
in vicious murder, multiplied;
we dare not be ambivalent.
Have mercy, Lord, omnipotent.

Mothers tortured, gang raped and killed
by cruel butchers, hate distilled;
the mute images, eloquent.
Have mercy, Lord, omnipotent.

Headless children no more know play;
their little heads on pikes displayed;
the slaughter of the innocent.
Have mercy, Lord, omnipotent.

Heinous, evil atrocities,
religious animosities;
the nations posture, impotent.
Have mercy, Lord, omnipotent.

On mountaintop, fearing the worst,
the entire world should give aid first;
so fearful of entanglement.
Have mercy, Lord, omnipotent.

Another holocaust witnessed,
people remain anonymous;
the world will not be innocent.
Have mercy, Lord, omnipotent.

Copyright, August 10, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
Tears would well her eyes, if there were any left.
Pray there’s none as one drop would flood the world. 
One, two, three, four and many more, she lost them all.
There remained is her loin no more pain to bring out a cry.
Marred body, disfigured figure, she stared blankly at the mounds. 
Underneath lie spoiled seedlings of  human race! 

Expectation rises at time where hope there’s none. 
What's more agonizing than this? 
To bury your own with your own hands! 
A never ending nightmare for survivors.
“How Evil is so powerful if God exists?” they cry.

Blood soaked soil or is it sediments of those burnt alive in seconds.
Heaped together they lie; plants, animals, man and man-made.
His majesty the Devil delivered his gift of doom; 
“Little boy” and “Fat man”, he laughed at jokers; humans! 

"I’m the Super Power. I want complete obedience!” 
He boasted, despising her force to procreate, revolted at the gift of God.
So easy to infiltrate the witless human race and guide them as puppeteer! 
Two mere days of holocaust and eternity to mock the brainless angels, “Protectors, huh!” 
In immense grave they all lie, cradling every new comer helplessly.

One brazened mother stood upon the large bosom of another, questioning the sky. How many more years to carry the curse of that angelic sin? 
Doomed are the ill fated souls of little small beings, already martyred in womb;
far heavier burden of agony to carry on fragile shoulders to another realm, head bowed in utter humiliation to relate this story of human’s crime to those above. Souls might never wish to be to be born human! 

Messengers of God on earth; justice, their motto! 
How so partial? Only drops to burn so many, for a lifetime? 
"No more!" When are their pleas to be heard? To be ridden of
the particles of death? Raw bruises of their souls to be soothed 
and their dead lands to be bloomed again?

“God”, if there’s one, though untimely, may certainly shed some tears of pity
to wash that sin of humanity, if ever it decides to leave its golden throne and pay some charity visit to them!

She slowly lifted a stone and placed it on one mound.
Her little girl name is today just a stone mark!
Those who escaped that fate, were chosen to stay living corpses; deterrent to others who would dare!
Common grave for millions, today makes lips quiver in horror and souls 
sag in fear with its very name,
Hiroshima and Nagasaki!

Resubmitted on 11/10/16
Date composed: 2/07/16

Copyright © Sunita U.D Palawon | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
The orchestra was playing as Titanic was sinking as did Nero while Rome was busy burning and the priest whispered in the ear of the dying farmer that happiness is a choice and Beethoven was deaf when he composed the ninth.

They made the farmer watch as they continually raped his wife cooked and ate his testicles this is life you say as you walk around like the living dead all is well there is nothing amiss decomposing the ninth singing psycho babble songs heading straight for the abyss

Copyright © Jannie Breedt | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
I remember one set of twins in particular: Guido and Ina, aged about four. One day, Mengele took them away. When they returned, they were in a terrible state: they had been sewn together, back to back, like Siamese twins. Their wounds were infected and oozing pus. They screamed day and night. Then their parents—I remember the mother's name was Stella—managed to get some morphine and they killed the children in order to end their suffer

Author unknown 

There is not a word to describe it
It's inconceivable 
I'm afraid I'm one who tries not to think about it 
It's too painful 
Where was God, where was karma ?
How could this happen ?
Sixteen million people 
Tortured and murdered
In the century we live in
The suffering continues now
But much differently 
It's a psychological horror
Of unimaginable pain
The pictures I've seen
Leave me weeping for weeks
It makes my soul sick

October 10, 2016

Copyright © Tanis Troutman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
There's a very good reason to bring me across;
It's because no one else would e'er suffer the loss
Of a worthless old vagrant and rounder as I
Who has been so long ready and eager to die.

Now, you needn't attempt to pretend such surprise
As I see there in those predatory keen eyes.
I have kept your dark secret for many long years
Which ought instantly quell nearly all of your fears.

This poor Earth has grown fat with too much human flesh;
It is now past the time that it be purged afresh.
I am sick unto death of my own fellow man
And I just cannot wait to destroy all I can.

We mere mortals are prone to assume we're so great
While ignoring this planet's unfortunate state.
Take a look at the carnage we've wreaked in this place,
Such a tiny blue pearl in the vastness of Space.

So please tarry no more in deciding my fate;
Father Time is the Thief I most savagely hate. 
We shall clear this world clean of all warm, weak detritus
And we'll never allow the foul vermin to smite us.

Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Questionku |
Grip a mirror
Evil knows no bounds
Keen to face your Maker?

*  *  *
Submitted for contest IN THE NAME OF LOVE FOR COUNTRY - THE DARK SIDE OF NATIONALISM sponsored by DEBBIE GUZZI on October 26, 2017

Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
In and around Auschwitz
Barbed wire still weeps
through too long denied rain.

In and around Annihilation
Denied climates fast creep
toward pathology's pain.

Through surrounding Anger
Charged hate denies sleep
for those who must explain.

In tyrannic Asps
Barbed boundaries sweep
out lies of monstrous strain.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
Can I begin to
How could I ever
Understand what you went though
Imagine what your eyes have seen
Fathom what your ears have heard
Feel the hunger that ravaged your body
Comprehend the savage cruelty endured
Day after day
In the streets then in the camps
Nowhere to hide or run
Can’t even pretend to grasp
The meaning of
Extermination of loved ones
Evil staring you in the eye
Godless droids overtaking the world
Bulldozing all in their path
While the universe
Stands by in disbelief
How does one pick up and carry on
Beyond that all too very real nightmare

Submitted to contests MOVE ME, AND OTHERS sponsored by MADISON DEMETROS - December 6, 2017

Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2017