Simple  Truths
By  William  Heyen

When a man has grown a body,
a body to carry with him
through nature for as long as he can,
when this body is taken from him
by other men and women who happen to be,
this time, in uniform,
then it is clear he has experieneced
an act of barbarism

and when a man has a wife,
a wife to love for as long as he lives,
when this wife is marked with a yellow star
and driven into a chamber she will never leave alive,
then this is murder,
so much is clear,

When a woman has children,
children to love for as long as she lives,
when the children are taken from her,
when a man and his wife and their children
are put to death in a chamber of gas,
or with pistols at close range, or she starved,
or injected by the thousands, or ripped apart,
by the thousands, by the millions,

and when we remeber,
when we touch the skin of our own bodies,
when we open our eyes into dream
or within the morning shine of sunlight
and remember what was taken from these men,
from these women, from these children gassed and starved
and beaten and thrown against walls
and otherwise exterminated in ways appearing to us almost
beyond even the human imagination,
then it's clear that this is the German Reich,

and when we read a book of these things,
when we hear the names of the camps,
when we see the films of the bulldozed dead

When we read these things or see them,
then it's clear to us that this
happened, and within the lord's allowance,
this work of his minions, his poor vicious dumb German victims twisted
into swastika shapes of trees struck by lightening,
on this his earth, if he is our father,
if we must speak of him in this way, this presence above us, within us,
this mover, this first cause, this spirit, this curse,
this bloodstream and brain-current,
this unfathomable oceanic ignorance of ourselves,
this automatic electric Aryan swerve, this

fortune that you and I were not the victims,
this luck that you and I were not murderers,
this sense that you and I are clean and understand ,
this stupidity that gives him breath,
gives him life
as we kill them all, as we killed them all.
(Gargas, 78-80)

    by  Laura Crist

And the child held her hand
A child tiny for almost eight,
Deep blue eyes that dominated his face,
When he explained new events to her,
     that funny doggy,
     that pretty rock,
And the freckles on his cheek,
No one saw a sunrise more perfect,
     to her,
She so vividly smells the fragrance of
     his hair,
     his ears,
     his breath in the morning
She vividly hears that little heartbeat,
     that was hers
     always hers,
     and the laughter,
     that raspy little laugh,
     when he caught her in a conundrum.
All this,
But this is merely the surface,
As she watches her little God sheared,
     and stripped,
For the gas chamber.

Source:   The Holocaust\Shoah Page

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