Best Mein Poems
while the quaint gestures
call to us i simply fall
all over your smile
the gentle way
your mind empties
my soul
written Mrs. Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Come one, come all who'll follow me
don't fear repeating history
ignore your greed and stupidity
what we need is a common enemy
The material that I will now recite
for you angry, hateful folks tonight
will hopefully, in you incite
a twisted sense of freedom's might
A platform, based upon a pogrom
is a bandwagon you can all get on;
for my second term, there'll be lebensraum
and we'll only need to drop one bomb
We'll need no walls; we'll need no borders
once we establish the complete new order
but first we need to stem the flow
before we're ready to make them go
So, don't delay, vote for me today
and I'll be giving out coupons for holidays
a week of relaxing in the sun,
but only for United States citizens
…the seeds of neo-Nazism are germinating
Markus Nierth, former mayor of Tröglitz, Germany 2015
Germany’s rock candy windows and cookie like shingles make seeing the oven inside impossible. At first, the obsessive compulsive cleanliness of Nuremberg’s post-WWII streets is a joy. For a child of the melting pot, born after The Big One, it’s painful to recall the grimmer aspects of the Third Reich with their proposed eugenics. Nuremberg [rebuilt] roots in an elitist past hiding behind half-timbered houses of wattle and daub. Once the seat of the Holy Roman Empire seeped in power, then, a base for Hitler’s wunderkind rallies—now a soul-blighted bloom, a minor stop on the tourist trail.
Street walking pedestrians—the silent middle, staid, detached—stroll or bike along paths, immersed in white dreams. The pogroms of terror, stolen homes, and bridges made from Jewish Cemetery stones lie beneath layers of pristine paint and plaster. The Jews victimized for centuries, and the war trials, a mere subtext to tour guide chatter.
xenophobia
tamped down like an ash banked fire
waits to rise again
on a bellows breath of rage
spray painted on railroad cars
The site of my pilgrimage, The Palace of Justice—walled in panels of ashen mahogany—retains a dour mien. Judges, jurors and those to be tried, still use this hall. After-images of skeletal camp dweller and vain glorious generals rise wraith-like from the polished surfaces, paneling, pews, and copings. Greek God’s glower. A bronze crucifix castes judgment on all who pass: God fearing, or atheist. Justice is not present; horrors are not passed and conscience is now presented to the world as a fanatic in a suicide vest.
First Published in Artificium UK 2016
School did a lot of damage to me
And left it's scars
Even today without really realising it
It robbed me of my self worth
And memories of those days left me hurt
As depression took a hit .
I was never the lead actor or even on the stage
In school plays
I was always behind the scenes
While the best looking boy and school beauty Queen
Tool the main parts
They were the one chosen to head the boys Soccer team
Or be chosen as may Queen
With her long blonde hair it just wasn't fare.
Being told your lazy or dumb because you have
Have learning difficulties
Your too fat can't draw rubbish at sums
And in sports you cannot run
Makes you feel useless and stupid.
The emotional battering of a small shy child
Went on and on
At home it was very much the same
I was teased and called all sorts of put down names
And everything was my fault even if I wasn't there
And I'd be always compared to my Mothers friends
Perfect kids who were always better than me in some way.
Always made to feel embarrassed
Bullied and always harassed
Told I'd never get a job
And end up in jail
I was deemed to fail
And rejected all my life.
I locked myself away for many years
Couldn't cope with people and Life
And drank and shed so many internal tears
That burned more and more
Over my wasted years.
Now I have been successful to some extent in life
But the scars of memories are just below the surface
I've had to fight so many battles uphill
Alone always alone still
I'm fighting a losing battle in a war
I can never win.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.
Baby Ich Liebe Dich so wie du bist,
So perfekt, so wie du mich glucklich machen.
Die Art und weise du mich fuhlen,
Di Art und weise du mich lacheln und lachen.
Auch wenn Ich wu tend bin, trairig oder songar weinen.
Mein Hertz blutet dur dich baby.
Ich Liebe Dich Mein Schatz baby.
Ich kann mir nicht helfer, aber ruhing und glucklich.
Wenn du so wundershon und du liebst mich fur mich.
Ich Liebe Dich fur immer!
Always~N~Forever,
Briana Lynn Palmer
Age:15almost16
Dedicated To:My wonderful and amazing Husband Dustin James Palmer
12-09-11
~Dustin's one & only faithful and loving wife~
I Love You Baby!
I heard them come long before they came,
Repetitious stomps heard from far away.
Their steady beat mimicked my heart,
As dread conceived to pull me apart.
This wasn't the first, but one of many
Parades of soldiers attentive and ready.
They come for no good from what I can tell,
Combing the city like a wave of Hell.
They tear apart families and wave their big guns,
Their cold eyes flash hate as they break into a run.
Some soldiers I know,
They march with my Dad.
Mom says it's for the best and not to be sad.
He calls himself a Nazi, whatever that means.
It doesn't sound cruel enough for the things I've seen.
I can't help but wonder how God could stand by,
Seeing His people with tears in their eyes.
Shaken figures of distress,
With nowhere to rest.
I want to yell stop!
But a peep I would be,
The young voice of his child of the man who leads these fiends.
We are miles apart,
Ocean seperates us both,
These feelings of mine,
are for you.
I wish I could be closer,
to figure everything out.
When we first met,
it was too short.
And you were so beatiful.
Thought I died and went to heaven,
but after you left and I couldn't find you.
I went back to earth.
Wish we could be closer,
to hang out more,
to fully understand.
If our feelings are the same.
Oh I wish,
and pray that they are.
While we are miles away.
I got one thing to say,
Du bist mein Mädchen,
Du bist mein Engel,
Du bist mein Liebe,
Du bist mein Leben.
Nazron se Tumne jo kaha humne bhi phir suna,
Ye nasha jo charha pehly tu na tha.
Uthayein jo nazarein tum ne dekha bhi phir hum ne,
Nighaon ka ye jo asar hua pehly tu na tha.
Khushbuyein jo mehkin dharkanein bhi phir behkin ,
Ye beqarari ka alam pehly tu na tha.
Saweiron mein lachargi Neendon mein awaargi,
Saza mein bhi maza pehly tu na tha.
Do Lafzon Mein likh de,
Mein nay Teri prem Kahani,
Wehmi nafsiati bool kar,
Goli ya teka?????
Note.bay sharam Pathan...
"Mein Kampf" held the clue for you and Europe
You hoped Hitler would destroy Soviet Russia, then itself
Game Theory, realpolitik, so-called political scientists say, "realism"
O how many ways we refused to help Jews - US refused refugees till 1941!
Don't hate me: these are facts of history. All Gandhi & King ask: change!
NOTE: By 1939 Mein Kampf sold over 5.2 million copies and was translated into 11 languages. Think again if you assume some of these languages were Arabic and Zulu, Sanskrit and Chinese. Hitler was in prison in 1925 for attempted putsch against the government in Bavaria, but served 9 months of his 5 year term, during which he began dictating Mein Kamof to Rudolph Hess, fellow "nazi."
while the quaint gestures
call to us i simply fall
all over your smile
the gentle way
your mind empties
my soul
By Mrs.Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Inspired by my home in
Munich Germany
Mein Das-Stilled Vintage Spirits Score-Hitched...
From Bottled Up Rage
Daily app pair rent
revelation, observation, and
intimation invariably concludes,
this aging baby
boomer (albeit youthful)
inescapably lock up
(until death me part)
inside complex edifice
re: guarding self made trap
rocketing into orbitz
of mine twilight years thrusts,
upon this pop (sic) crack
kill forcibly to snap
attention back into
the present, yet unable
to shake off feeling dismayed,
viz hit ting head
with bleak recap
cha regular basis finds me
reassessing, reliving,
and reviewing
psychologically pock
marked scarred
psyche indelibly mapped
e'er since this narrator hapt
tubby a little boy at
tender preschool age
his esprit de corp
joie de vivre analogous
to a rat locked
in an undersize invisible cage
devoid of emotional, physical,
and spiritual equipage
with 20/20 hindsight, I attest,
he seemed bereft
of empathy gauge
as attested by donning
slovenly swiftly tailored,
unkempt harried styled
appearance, a foiled image
that any stranger, family
member, or classmate
could discern, sans
intuitive knowledge
Hawaii didst poorly manage
thyself and island
did self smoldering
wool worth deadly sabotage!
People look at me and see
the person that I used to be
broken and beyond repair
with no emotion left to spare
then there you came
into life to light my flame
before you there were endless
nights
now I see you in nothing but
lights
touch the scars and wipe the
tears
a day without you is like a
hundred years
you stitched me up from head
to heart
ripped up pieces are now a
work of art
the light in your eyes is hard to
deny
when I'm with you I can touch
the sky
kiss after embrace this feeling
never fades
you're my lucky card the Ace of
Spades
conquer shadows and fight the
past
my time with you runs by too
fast
I crave your touch I must
confess
the only weakness I possess
tell me you love me and my
heart skips a beat
I know my feelings for you are
concrete
our future together is set in
stone
I promise I will never leave you
alone
Mein Kampf...Self Imprisoned Gulag
Onset of conception wrought significant
destructive quantum sized genetic quark
invisible, fissile, and congenital skull,
sans crossbones deathmark
scythe kill logical metastatic
psychic path head shrinking Reichsmark
financial reparation taxed this human bark
at peril of ark
covenant fomenting incruent
lacerating psychological ordeal
triggering mythological hound fierce bark
king Cerberus from Hades
bajillion times more
ferocious than a shark
oppressive teeth gnashing
jawbreaking, human prey stark
dead meat, bleak fin de siecle lifespan
razor sharp teeth trademark
death sentence worse
than totalitarian regime,
emasculating, defeating, crushing any spark
to muster livingsocial jackknifing
sole ambition waiting, Clark
Kent (alias superman) powerless,
thus letting me die non staining watermark
as permanent solution
freeing relentless gravestone mark
piercing, sundering, and vitiating
against nemesis, sans panic attacks
exacerbated by infiltrated FARC
militia firearms at the ready,
where soul will peacefully park
amidst cognoscenti immune to snark!
she don't love you and she don't
need you
keep my name out your mouth
stop calling my residence
your baby momma is
my spouse
ya'll aint gettin back
together
the way you ask her over
you think that's clever
ya'll aint compromising
I see the look in ya'll eye's and
talking bout getting
clothes and shoes
give me the money
let me go do-it
I know bout what yo momma said
tell stuff her $$$$@$$ and
comb her hair
keep my name out your mouth
I tell ya'll what's
that's about
smiling at each other at the barbeque
singing song's
that aint cool
ya'll getting back together
stop actin cheap
and thinking you clever
that's my wife
my kids
my house
tell that chump
he better recognize
meeting up
wear ah disguise
betcha he was
dressed up like a b$tch
watching strippers
on a gay tip
ya'll aint back together
divorce say done
and ya'll through forever
that's my wife
my family
my kids
ya'll on same
strange
foolish sh$t