I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.
I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.
I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.
I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.
I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.
My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the 'inferior' races,
how could you 'superiority' claim?
I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.
So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.
Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,
as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.
Categories:
lebensraum, prejudice, racism,
Form: Prose Poetry
Drawn to the graves
Unbeknown clarity develops like root canal treatment
festering wounds and scull bones loom on the route
In reason and feeling I have no choice but to venture
an ancient drill grinds away carbon in my father’s grave
Gravity certainty narrative German post war collective
guilt betrayal crimes against humanity ‘we only followed’
Orders commands yet propagated propaganda and demise
a generation later my prerogative to look away falls by
The wayside on the path to Auschwitz the stench the cries
train tracks total war extinction ‘Lebensraum’ final solution
My officer dad a cog in the wheel just a soldier or willing
perpetrator and I too am getting longer in the tooth of time
‘What did you do what did you not’ and on a map in the
cellar times and postings little flags of when and where
I cannot avoid the void any longer and my atrocious search
for atrocities smoulders at boiling point and the search is
On for the roots which must be exposed from gold fillings
extracted to knowledge before cavities lie filled with pain
Might be covered with exposure of who I am as my father’s child
Categories:
lebensraum, depression,
Form: Free verse
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
Categories:
lebensraum, discrimination, hate, political, satire,
Form: Rhyme
A perfect cup of coffee
launches the perfect day,
but coffee must be ground to bits
completely
smithereened and thoroughly crushed
no trace of completeness,
to release the aroma
that permeates my senses
my maligned sensibilities
distorting both.
I am grateful for these distortions
distractions
As an old perception attached to them
brings hope, that perfection might bring tranquility
or that perfection brings peace
space
lebensraum
Aroma's that can dull
the internal microscope len
that i'm under this morning
and every morning
my sick friend and perpetual free will
gets granted clemency today
a slight reprieve,
momentarly granted insight
on how to let go,
get sloppy
live a life worth living
Categories:
lebensraum, appreciation, forgiveness, friendship, sensual,
Form: Free verse
To find the place where gods reside; just look
Into a candle’s solitary flame
And listen for their voice to call your name
Within the self, and there you’ll find their nook
This place is never found in any book,
Or in the words an aging priest may preach,
That which is divine is in easy reach
Within the self, and there you’ll find a nook
The path is scattered with all you mistook
The way is cluttered with those tempting things
But when the heart finds truth it simply sings
Within the self, and there you’ll find a nook
To find the place where gods reside; just look
Within the self, and there you’ll find their nook
Categories:
lebensraum, faith,
Form: Sonnet