Best Camps Poems
You all pray
for yourselves
ah now it matters
who, pray tell cares
about the children in camps
you empty prisons
yet fear the little children
more than any virus
moral decay
And then all of a sudden I was in a mysterious world,
A woman here shelling peas, for they have no rights to be wasted
Being ignored in her shop, they were two days older
She had more of the new arrivals but then she has got the power,
that to know both the peas were same inside as how they should be
I need to take her, to a faraway land, once gone
There were these captives,begging to get their pea of the day in a camp full of illusions
And those melancholic eyes would really find what grateful is, if they happen to see her
Plants in camps can be very disguised. Allowing infiltration through buds, leaves and stem. If one is having a cup of tea with a dandelion watch for remarks made. It is going to be a vast national weeding project. The directional flow from those inner places are not a marvel or a blessing. Blessings are tuned only to a blade of grass or a circle of orange. Twirling. How very naive to play with an undercurrent on open ground. Thus allowing infestation of structures in fields. Radiant radios reaching rears readily. Pointed at scenarios currently existing. Between a plate there is an embryonic ego shroud. Seek then advice from broom,wand,staffs,swords and the mythological realms of old. Who dwell in such places. Fertilisation of a fortification. Balancing act of a small intergalactic fish on a moonlit sky. And never play sports with a smell of turps omitting from words or orbs. Gathering gaining. Rain riding rivers. Bin ban. % is a biscuit frame with alot of icing sugar contained. Meteorological. Z. D y q z
Event: Anglo-Boer War 1899–1902—Measles epidemic in the concentration camps.
In the voice of: Sannie Botha (a survivor).
Jan’s cough kept me awake all through the night.
The children are all coughing in the night;
the fevers gave us all a mighty fright.
The red, now itchy, spots on body parts;
“Oh! Son Jan, don’t you scratch the itchy parts,
as scabs and scars will follow just like warts.”
If only I had negosiekist* at hand.
The muthi† in friend's kist – her helping hand –
but mothers dug graves with bare hands in sand.
Now I might stop to shake my balled fist.
The Tommies‡ shake their riffles in tight fists;
they're no older than Jan when they enlisted.
The torment was breaking all of our hearts
and the fragile peace brokered, never lasts.
The Lover's Rendezvous
The wicked sense of a complete lack of control
has always led mankind down roads nobody knows
Until it unfolds
Until the Devil takes hold
Until the bodies get dumped in a hole
and the shrieking grandmothers,
whom you can never console,
clutch the little dead babies to their milkless breasts
So just confess! get it off your chest!
Peace in rest, and its all in jest
Confess! and brush the ashes from your vest
as you taxi your honey to your little lust nest
in laughter, caressed your sweet little Aryan cum-fest
as the grey snow fell, as if straight up from hell
The stench of burning flesh smell
as the guard dogs growled
and the cold wind howled
You traded a God of love
for a black leather glove
and oh yeah, lots of burning in hell
The holocaust.
A historical event known worldwide
Taught in every history class
The point being is its known
Why is that important?
It overshadows
It takes the spotlight
It is also white history
Because even though it was mainly the persecution of Jews
At the end of the day they are still white
But what about another holocaust
Another genocide of people
Those who were discriminated against
And were targeted by Germany
In this case they were black
This was the Germans first attack
The wipe out of generations
Innocent children and the elderly
Innocent black people exterminated
All because of a rebellion
Of a people defending their nation
Herero and Nama
The retaliation from the Germans
Catastrophic
It changes the lives of many
The murders and separations of families
Around 100,000 hereros
And 25,000 Nama
Brutally murdered in a genocide
Silenced by the colour of the victims skin
It didn't end there
The Germans had won
And Hereros and Nama were defeated
Instead of the Germans leaving
They took souvenirs
Those who survived
Were imprisoned
Starved, dehydrated and beaten
If the genocide hadn't killed them
Then the concentration camps certainly did
The jews were given historical grace
And the Southern Western Africans were erased
And you wonder why we make 'everything about race'
Is because you wouldn't care if the history Of my people was slapped in your face
Modern Concentration Stamps For Query
Heights of subtly decide the best points for invention
Delights of brevity decide the next poetic composition
Insights of entropy reside and then collide in patient comprehension
Conspicuous engagements of the outspoken looking for transparent attention
Ridiculous derangement of the broken ones that should have been all about prevention
Ambiguous retainment of the disguise which illuminates the apprehension
Promiscuous enragement that results in confined detention
I’m bereft aloof alone unkempt and broken at the knees
Contempt for those who have it all and still are hard to please
Cement the groves of the dead to mourn as the wind flows thru the trees
Circumvent the throes of dread that form as I long to be set free
Abdication of the crown for a superficial reason
Fabrication that’s renowned that quantifies as spiritual treason
Aberration of profound modern lies that define the season
Condemnation of the resounding cries that refine the notion of partisan
Holocausts and starvation not resigned to history anymore
Concentration camps a modern feature as we watch them knock upon deaths door
Instigation of disenfranchised people that have no place but to remain poor
Obfuscation of the unbelievable that demand we stand for more
The End Elizabeth Moroz Copyright