Long Nazi Poems
Long Nazi Poems. Below are the most popular long Nazi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nazi poems by poem length and keyword.
Family love is born in little rooms,
around sofas, settees, dinner plates,
with paternal bond that strengthens and grooms,
unswerving link that lasts till heaven’s gates!
We were such family in a French town,
traditional, true, religious us four,
mother was good at making wedding gowns,
father a decorator ran paint store!
Sister and I watched German troops on streets,
Tuesday August year nineteen forty three,
parents held us close, could hear their heartbeat,
that was the last day we would all be free!
Dragged on to street by the Nazi soldiers,
our father was punched kicked and beaten blue,
we wept helpless, clung to mother’s shoulders,
that was the last of our father we knew!
Pulled away from mother and Sis I cried,
screaming imploring, no mercy, no heart,
that day for me when humanity died,
was day my family was torn apart!
Packed in a train suffocating with stench,
alone defeated waited journey’s end,
with dead and dying that made stomach wrench,
four days of thirst and suffering to spend.
I remember that train to Auschwitz well,
journey that destroyed many lives like mine,
where our love and hope to tyranny fell,
to death we were paraded in a line!
Six months past we heard exchange of fire,
that made evil enemy pack and run,
We were all rescued from behind barbed wire,
was still hope and goodness under the Sun!
When God smiles he smiles generously well,
lifts suffering souls from bottomless pit,
That day he was smiling we could all tell,
his eyes perhaps gleaming and face well lit!
Each life and hope with dignity restored,
we were treated, bathed clothed and given food,
In room of people saw face I adored,
sobbing with outstretched arms my mother stood!
United with mother back to my house,
and years of togetherness we would share,
on the wall hangs our striped prisoner blouse,
to tell trappings of hatred and its snare!
The train to Auschwitz took many to death,
guilt ridden, to and fro ran that train,
but tracks remain, hate may creep back in stealth!
train to Auschwitz should never run again!
Premier contest 6th placement
Written 09/April/2021
10 syllables each line (PS syllable count)
based on a true story as related by a 93 yr old Auschwitz survivor
The last train to Auschwitz poetry competition
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
He sits in solitude except for the incoherent yelling in the next room.
The yelling is accompanied by the high pitch shrill of breaking glass and china smashing the ground and the wall behind her.
She doesn’t know what day it is.
She feels like she has awakened into a nightmare. Her thoughts don’t finish themselves anymore. They are slower to even materialize. In the middle of her thought a noise is amplified in her mind to the point her ghost leaves her skin and startles her.
It makes her angry.
She has to start all over...what was she thinking about?
The people on the t.v. are talking about her in Japanese. She hears her name. The dog barks and she remembers she has a dog.
She is holding something.
She looks down and her hand is dripping something but she doesn’t know why.
She is squeezing a piece of broken glass, but she thinks it is her watch. She doesn't know what time it is. If you asked her what her name was, she would look through you, trying to see her name on the wall.
The wall, the dog, her name, the noise, is someone screaming? Some guy comes in the room. “ Mom, are you ok?”
She is bleeding everywhere.
She throws her watch at him. It shatters against the wall. “ Get out!” She screams. “ Help! Police! He’s killing the babies!”
She doesn’t know who he is. Nothing makes sense anymore.
She thinks he has hurt them.
She hasn’t seen the babies in weeks, maybe months. She remembers holding them but cannot see the faces. All the faces fade.She wonders if she has always been crazy. She thinks she might just be sick. She thinks she might be dreaming. Then she forgets what she was thinking about.
She has to start over.
Where is she?
She wants to go home, yet she has lived where she is for 16 years.
She thinks about the guy who….where is her watch? She remembers a dog….she was going to…..the paper said…the faces fade . where am??
Another year has gone by...she thinks it is 1984. The room has a pungent odor. She sits in a soiled diaper, the Japanese know she is dirty. Her hand is trembling and bleeding. " Ma let me help you." He wraps her hand. " You are a gambling Nazi." She says to him. Nazi? He sheds a tear as he looks to his phone for the nearest care facility. It has come. He has to make the call. After all, he was her son and he was raised Jewish.
“Oh, not in my town,” you doth so loudly protest.
But I tell you, they are even in your governments!
The first sign is~ suppression of your free speech.
We let them, outlaw words, while leaders sun at the beach?
You will find that your country,is really no longer your own,
All your taxes go to others from other countries, unknown.
Your country’s flag is burnt in the streets with livid hate and glee?
By masked protestors, filling the streets with grand superiority.
The USA policemen and women are killed with joy and glee?
And people run for President, supporting this inhumane tragedy?
When, in your country, your rights are out the patriotic window.
Be afraid, be very afraid……of this Communistic horror show.
You will be jailed for words that you wrote a friend online?
In free countiries, you write as you choose, and all is fine…
I watch, news from international servers and stations.
Powerful nations are stealing your rights, its citizens,given a ration.
The Nazis march in your streets, to destroy another nation.
Their hate so obvious and ill, that it is a cause for celebration?
These same people, would have gladly cheered on…the Holocaust?
Today, wear masks and scream for death~indeed their souls are lost!
Their heroes killed babies, youngsters, parents in their own homes.
And butchered the young at a dance..as the daybreak’s sun has shown.
A butcher shop of dead, young people unidentifiable, they were in parts.
These monsters then killed their families, and destroyed homes and farms.
So the friends of this bloody mayhem, do march in your “free”streets.
Supported by the UN and all of them, Satan’s souls, a most delicious treats.
Most nations want this nation,wiped off the face of this now maliciciuos earth.
Satan will welcome them, that Fallen Angel, with his evil smile of dirth.
God bless the thousands of innocents murdered a year ago today..
I have grieved for them all, each day nonstop without allay.
The media has largely ignored this most tragic event of my life.
I hope I awaken some souls to this horror and world strife.
Bless and release the starving, lonely, abused and dead hostages!
The 10/7/2024
In Honor of the fallen during the Nova Massacre.
November 7th, 2023! I will never forget!
This autumn morning with the birds waking up
and the leaves changing is Election Day. I meet
Jane Trichter on the downtown train and discuss
Henry's upset. Her skin is soft especially her cheeks
and she is intelligent and sensitive. The subway riders
do not recognize their representative.
All week, at the office, I accomplish nothing substantive
but keep the aides and interns working
and cheerful. On Tuesdays there is always a wave
of constituent complaints, by telephone. One woman's
Volkswagon is towed and the police break in
to get it out of gear. Do they have that right,
can they tow even though no sign said Tow Away Zone?
It is an interesting question but I try to avoid
answering it. The woman persists and succeeds
in committing me.
The people at the office want to bomb Iran. A few Americans
held hostage and therefore many innocent women and children
pay the postage. It may be good classical logic to hold responsible
the whole society for the acts of a few, however, then
I must begin to expect the bomb and the white cloud that waits.
Apocalyptic visions are popular again
but we are more likely to thrash the earth to within an inch of its life
than scorch it to charred rock.
Corner of Church and Chambers,
German tourist's language, accent repels me
although I wasn't alive 45 years ago
and many sweet, great Germans opposed the crazy Nazis
but lately I've read Primo Levi's If Not Now, When?,
seen William Holden in "The Counterfeit Traitor",
have followed the argument started by revisionists
who say the Nazi atrocities never happened.
War brought many shopkeepers, bookkeepers close to their earth,
weather, seasons, death.
I see daily life as low-intensity warfare
as my father, the World War II vet, did.
Off to work we go. What is war?
Population control, mother of invention, diversion
from the work of making life permanent.
Today is Election Day and because it's a day off
for most municipal employees, the City Hall area
has been quiet and easy to work in. Henry and Jane
hold a press conference on teenage alcoholism.
Leslie, the other aide, who I'd like to draw
the stockings and clothes off of and feel her whole body
with mine, goes home with her mother, leaving me
standing by my desk with my briefcase at the end
of Election Day.
Lost and Found
My name is Daniel. For 70 years--from age 14 to age 84--
I was incomplete, bereft of mother, father, my identical
twin brother Joshua, and all my boyhood friends who were
with me that day in 1944.
Some of the stronger men had strained and struggled
to force apart the bars on the window of the railway cattle
trailer packed to capacity with Jews bound for Auschwitz.
The results of their labor was an aperture large enough
for the egress of very slender people--like Joshua and me.
"Go, my precious ones!" cried my mother.
"Go, and LIVE!" said my father. "GO NOW!"
I grabbed Joshua's hand and pulled urgently. He wrenched loose:
"I--I just can't! I love you. Good-bye."
It was in this manner I escaped terror and death, but--Oh, there
was so much I could never escape. Each day since then, I have
seen their faces--those anguished,tear-stained faces, especially
Joshua's. Soon they were all dead; they had to be, didn't they?
I grew up, married, worked hard at a fulfilling career, raised three
fine children with my wife, and played joyously with children and
grandchildren--but still was incomplete.
On mild spring day, the greatest void in my life was filled when a
stranger approached me at the park and said, "Daniel (he knew my
name), a very important person is waiting for you a few yards ahead
on the next bench." Then he just walked away.
Sitting on that bench was the near-mirror-image of myself. He stood
and smiled broadly. He had my eyes, my build, my crooked smile,
my snow-white shock of hair. Then he said it--he said "Daniel"--
like no one else who has ever existed could say my name! It was
then I noticed we were dressed alike--same style, same colors!
He told me of our parents' deaths from starvation, of his escape from
Auschwitz, of the life he had lived, of his seventy-year search for me.
My heart broke, and I begged his forgiveness for presuming that he
was dead--that they had all died at Auschwitz. Then he spoke the words
that dried my tears: "I've nothing for which to forgive you! You must now
forgive yourSELF and be whole."
We are inseparable.
Hundreds of people escaped in route to Nazi concentration camps and from those camps.
written for Silent One's Long Lost Family Contest on July 22, 2016
Absolute truth
Question?
What is the absolute truth ?
Depends on who you are asking
What they believe in
And what there motives are
Some say the Bible is the absolute truth
Beyond question or reproach
Islamic State will kill anyone who disagree with there's
The Nazi holocausts exterminated the Jews for there's
But for me
The truth is in the eye of the beholder
For instance
Thou shall not kill
But faith has been killing in the name of the Lord
Since religion began
And survives till today
If everyone goes to heaven
What is the point of dwelling on hell
Judgment
Judge not others or you will be judged yourself
Judge Judy is she a real judge?
Judge me on my actions not my faith
Jpon Judgment Day
Who am I to be judged by?
And on what or whose criteria ?
Are we not not all sat in judgment of the soup?
And does placing our comments ?
Not underline the case in point?
Lies
Everyone lie's
The very world we live in
Is based on mans lie's
Example
False news media outlets
Our electoral Politicians
Bent Priest's
Islamic Suicidal Bomber's
2 World Wars
And Nuclear Weapons
When all is said and all is done
The absolute truth is that
All scripture is based on lies
They can't all be right?
Unless there is more than 1 God??
But that slams the door firmly closed on there
1 true God ideology
And what about the proposition of Extraterrestrial being's ?
Come to your own conclusion
Reference facts whence you seek solution's
In which to place your faith
All these books were written by power hungry Men
Christian, Islamic , Jewish
Every single 1
Mainly inspired by Prophesying
For Political gain
There is not a single soul on mother earth
Who has ever seen or witnessed the voice of said God
Or am I ?
Completely Wrong ?
Some 2000 year's have elapsed
Since the 3 Major Faith's
Propagated God had spoken
And the gate has been left wide open
For the 2nd coming
All 1 has to do is believe
Place your hands on the holly book
And swear allegiance
But 1st and foremost
Never Question
Judge only for yourself
What are lie's ?
And who is lying to you?
And if the means defies the end?
And the truth will set you free
I choose rather to believe in
And place my only faith in
KNOWLEDGE
And
LOVE
Out of all of us my best friend
Came to an inglorious, untimely ugly end
We were digging holes inside a cave
But what he didn’t know was that he was digging his own grave
When it was finally time to go to bed
He turned around and a Nazi shot him in the head
He fell into the hole he had just dug
And the Nazi covered him up with an old dirty rug
They poured gasoline on him and set him afire
That was to become my friends funeral pyre
We were made to stand there and watch him burn
And the Nazi said, "This is your lesson to learn”
That night we all went to bed
Full of sadness, fear and dread
What happened that night really gave us a fright
Nothing was ever going to be alright
At night I see the ghosts of the lost
During the day I see the price that it cost
The Nazis have no religion or conscience
They only believe in killing and science
Later that day, a Nazi came with something he made
It was a very awful ugly lamp shade
On one side of the shade was something I knew
It was one of my dead friend’s tattoos!
Of the unfortunate unlucky dead
The Nazis were shrinking heads!
And they were making all kinds of things
Out of the prisoners, their gold teeth and rings
One night so cold I was watching my frozen breath
The Nazis came and took me away to see Dr. Death
He said he was going to give me a shot and it would do no harm
He rolled up my sleeve and stuck a needle in my arm
That was after Christmas in 1944 late December
And from that moment on nothing I remember
An American soldier told me that when he found me
I was walking around the prison yard like a lifeless zombie
Now it’s early May 1945
And somehow I am still alive
It’s amazing that I am not insane
The last survivor of the last train
To understand the holocaust
You must understand all it cost
In this camp it cost the lives of over a million
Of innocent men, women and children
Now we speak of all the lives lost
In the past tense
It all really comes down to the cost
Of all the dead and the presence of absence
Against all of humanity there leaves a void
A hideous heinous crime
So many promising lives destroyed
In one short period of time
Lives that were vital and present
All became past tense
And we can still feel and resent
Their absence of presence
My first poetry reading on April 15, 2011 at Café Jolesch in Zittau
This evening I read the first five of my poems before an audience in the beautiful Art
Nouveau atmosphere of Café Jolesch under the direction of Karin Kayser and Rolf Monitor in
the context of the "Open Stage" for the 3rd Lusatian Culture Night. I waited for my first
appearance with a good Czech Svijani fresh draft beer. On the small stage were already
loudspeakers, microphones and musical instruments installed. From 8 pm on the room filled
with visitors. A live band playing rock music and blues and a young woman performed a
belly dance. All the tables were now occupied, and I cleared my place for some students,
listening to the sounds from the bar and watched the dance. There was much applause and
some young people shot photos with their cell phones. Then I was announced by Rolf
Monitor, stepped to the stage and read my five poems for the first time in public. It was
quiet in the room and all listened to me and when I had finished, came rapturous applause.
Rolf Monitor asked me if I could not read more of my poems, but I was only prepared to
read five. I promised to repeat my reading with more poems next time.
Note: The Lusatian Culture Night is a yearly event in April from 7 pm till midnight with
different performances, exhibits and other events. Café Jolesch is a pub in the so called
Hiller Villa.
The villa was built at end of the 19th Century. It was for decades the home of the Jewish
Hiller family. Gustav Hiller, an inventor from Großschönau, using the proceeds from his
first patent, a machine for manufacturing curtain strings, founded Zittau's Phänomenwerke.
They were known in GDR times as VEB Robur Works Zittau, in which bicycles of the brand
Phänomen, the Phänomobile and later the Robur truck were produced. During the Nazi rule,
Mrs. Hiller, could be bought off for an annual payment of 300,000 Reichsmark from
deportation. After the war the family moved into the West Zone. Today the Villa Hiller is
home for the Multicultural Center (MUK), a nonprofit organization. In 1993, the
granddaughters of Gustav Hiller, Mrs Anne Frommann and Mrs Claudia Siede-Hiller, now
living in Israel, donated the villa to the MUK. The ground floor houses the Café Jolesch.
I dwell between two major figures
Where twenty borders twenty-one
A child of age bygone, it figures
What I lived through can’t be undone
I keep on seeing a commotion
A whirl, a trend that leaves me awed
Perpetual flow, mankind’s motion
It’s weird, puzzling, odious, odd
One’s mom and dad aren’t in the picture
YouTube will teach you every trick
By God, the influencer’s scripture
Takes over you, you get a kick
This is the century of sexes
And not just two, but whole bunch
Imagine that, all intersexes
Try as you may, there isn’t a hunch
The time of minds torn to pieces
Boyhood and girlhood wounded bad
The schools dispense wokeism feces
With moral guidance preached by cads
We witnessed honor compass breaking
We held it close, it showed the way
Precedes disaster in the making
Whole generation washed away
The country borders - simply lines
On map they run, ramparts they’re not
So, hordes ignore the border signs
Without fear of being caught
The world got smaller, can't go places
Where danger lurks with bated breath
Inflation earnings outpaces
To stay afloat – work to death
What’s gone is privacy, forever
And cam now lives on every pole
I couldn’t imagine, never ever
That every car shall run on coal
The Paly flag would stand for hatred
And Star of David – Nazi sign
The Holy Land – no longer sacred
And being Jew means get maligned
Don’t have to be, just make impression
Puffed cheeks and chest – signs of success
Distinguish lies from truth, big question
And states of ‘blue’ are in distress
The money isn’t worth the paper
Go buy some groceries and see
Subscribe, watch, comment is the caper
Go steal from store and then run free
A million voices telling tales
On what to buy, cook, wear - sweet talk
Taste, think, use, carry – with details
In billion phones around the clock
You owe your life to rabid viewers
Can never stop, content is king
Most weird acts attract YouTubers
While bank account goes ‘cha-ching’
Forever jealous, mean and bitter
This ain’t my way and never be
All worthy news are found on Twitter
To filter noise is the key
Elections screwed and prosecutions
This crazy world, it goes awry
Mankind engulfed by evolution
The times, in which we live and die
May 27, 2024
Nutty grandpa president
is talking crazy uncle Donald again
His little Chucky thumbs
is tapping epithet tweet nonsense
Batty grandpa’s been
grumpily sucking
on the hate hot sauce bottle
stashed in his KKK closet
Now he’s sporting a Commander-in-Chief cap,
dressed in a wrinkled birthday suit
Churlish grandpa wanna blow the nuclear candles out
in his Oval padded room
He’s trying to smear his coconut-frosted
pejorative German chocolate cake
on every African looking face
Calling Doctor Strangelove and nurse Annie Wilkes Misery,
bad Grandpa is verbally pooping all over the place
His anti-social, mood swing meds
is scattered everywhere on the bed
Nutty grandpa prez
is a stable genius he says
But his schizophrenia behavior
is open and shut caged rage ... Jekyll and Hyde
Hannibal Lecter ... American Gothic suicide
Old Grandpa says
young women love him like Frankenstein’s bride
His paranoid soul
got a misogynist itch
in it’s nether parts
Curmudgeon grandpa claims he’s really rich,
and has an Ebenezer Scrooge heart
Nutty grandpa prez don’t like no immigrants
who came from where he ain’t
Straight jacket truth wraps him wrong,
he loves to swear that he’s no saint
Crazy grandpa just wanna roam the West Wing halls at night,
cursing at everybody left and right
His angry autocrat ticker just wanna be dictator loved
with family suck-up sniveling loyalty
Cuckoo grandpa flew his nest egg eyes over someone in the staff,
whose nurse Ratched mirror image greedy
Nutty grandpa president just got another person fired
for improper cleansing backside kissing
And the raucous din,
rising from the voter base-ment,
means it’s electoral shock therapy time again
So lock the border doors —
keep it dissent quiet, dum-dum
Czar grandpa prez don’t like all that democratic noise
Silence of the lambs,
that soothing lullaby hum
Is the sweet sound
that calms his Joker tweeting thumbs
Rest your rage, nutty grandpa prez:
Uneasily snore deeply,
wearing your Mad Hatter MAGA brim
(keep having more troubled, neo-Nazi policy dreams
of Making America Great Again)
As the White House hospice staff is issuing
M.A.S.H unpatriotic greetings
to Parallel reality refugees
seeking insane asylum ...
Welcome, to the Oval Sanatorium