More Poetry Storage ;-)

I did laundry this morning.. what a thrill!  I was online last night for FIVE HOURS just doing the poetry course as well as reading and reviewing poetry at zoetrope.com   It’s getting a little mind-boggling.  I’ve unleashed a monster.  It seems like anything I encounter these days can make itself into a poem.  That would be great if I could support myself with poetry but that doesn’t happen in this day an age (if it ever did).  Oh well…

Here’s something new I came up with.  I took it from an essay I wrote called “Silent Holocaust.”  I may have started that essay in here…. as a matter of fact, I believe I did.  It got some people upset with me.

Silent Holocaust

Black and white flickers
accross my TV
a story of Jews
in gray misery
I see the wide eyes
jaws of the Nazi
in swastica shape
as they peel away rights
slowly, at first
then rip away all.

I curse human hearts
that allow us to look
in the face of a man
while we steal more than life.
Doubled over I feel
pain of my own repentence
for whatever I own
that might someday allow
my brother to suffer
my brother to die.

Acceptably heavy
my mind fills with empathy,
quicksand, my sadness,
so holy, and right
while images, faces, and
stories accuse
and we all shake our heads
in united repugnance.

But, somewhere, I realize
no faces are shown
of the dying
no voices are raised
and no films have been made

Those without rights
have become less than human
lives, like pinatas
prepare for the stick
weilded by us
as we become God
who can make the decision
to cradle the soft one
against a warm breast
or send it to darkness
a vacuum of death.

No wide eys convict us
survive with a tale
the holocaust, silently,
still marches on.

My thoughts stand condemned
by the strong and the vocal
my sadness, not holy,
nor welcomed or wanted
archaic for thinking
these vessels once lived.