Remember And Change

Dad,

I don't want to write about spring,

flowers blooming,

touching my skin,

making my spirits rejoice.

Dad,

I don't wish to write about egrets 

flying into my yard,

celebrating glorious blue skies.

Dad,

I want to write about hunger and pain,

about a dark time,

when the sun did not shine for you 

and for others.

A time when your belly was empty

and your eyes witnessed 

horrors that remained with you

till the day you died.

I don't want to be gentle or soft,

I want to awaken souls.

I want the world to remember,

humanity at it's worst.

I want them to know

 that you did not

let it define you.

You were a survivor,

a champion ,

that fought for other people's rights .

Your heart open and your mind

filled with dreams.

You wrote beautiful words,

soaring above the pain and horror.

Dad,

I want them to remember ,

the people that perished,

the people that did not

get to go home and build

a new life,

I want the world to remember. 

Holocaust Memorial  Day was this week. I wrote a poem called, "Numbers". It was dedicated for all those that perished and the survivors. I know it's not a popular subject with some but so important to remember. 

There are crimes against humanity happening at different parts of the world even though we have come a long way, or have we? I recommend this article by my friend Belinda Munoz http://thehalfwaypoint.net/2013/03/a-place-powered-by-love/ . Compassion for others and their struggles is essential . We are all connected. Please join us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts. 

 

Numbers

Numbers tattooed

on my soul.

Lives snuffed out,

erased,

roots of humanity pulled out

like weeds,

so they would not grow,

or flourish,

so they would not survive.

Numbers tattooed,

like branded animals,

identities robbed,

discarded,

destroyed.

Voices silenced,
voices of philosophers,  

poets,

bakers,

doctors,

mothers,

fathers,

children.

The old woman sits with me,

she remembers and weeps.

she remembers walking into

an empty house for refuge,
  a photograph 

of a rabbi on the wall,

his blue eyes haunt her in her dreams. 

She remembers hunger,

cold,

despair.

Her grandparents murdered,

her uncle vanished,

her aunt dismembered.

She is a part of me,

a piece of my legacy.

Her eyes the same color as my 

beloved father's eyes.

 They held hands at the gates of hell

and survived.

I write down the stories

seared with pain
 of portraits of life

ripped apart,

families lost ,

unspeakable horrors.

I write stories,

I witness,

as tears fall down,

we remember. 

Today is  Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoah) 2013 begins in the evening of

Sunday, April 7

and ends in the evening of

Monday, April 8.

This poem is for all the millions of lives lost and about my aunt sharing her stories with me. 

My dad and my aunt were small children during the holocaust. They witnessed things that were horrid. 

We must tell these stories and remember. 

Riding The T

I will take a chance on you,

I will take a chance on humanity.

I hear you ask for money on the T,

your voice travels like an echo.

You plead for money to get your 

state card,

so you can be placed in housing.

Your deadline 2:30.

People hide away their smirks

and ignore you,

non believers thinking they are scammed.

In the belly of the T,

I believe.

I reach for my purse,

I want to pull money out.

Then I hear you saying you have

to get your son from foster care,

doubt shadows my goodwill.

 Someone says,

that you go up and down off the 

trains, seeking the compassion of

strangers.

 I notice your fancy sneakers,

I hear the man behind

tell your story.

I'm not judging,

I just became a non believer,

as I watch you climb on another train.

I became a non believer,

and that makes me sad,

for both of us.


Meet us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Youth

I squandered days,

months,

years.

I squandered youth,

living in my moment of reckless abandon.

I did not treasure it

nor cherish it,

I lived it ,

not questioning the consequence,

not questioning forever.

If I laid down my blunders

like a feast on a table,

would you cut them one by one

with a scalpel and examine their severity?

Would you ravage them like a vulture

does roadkill .

Would you judge ?

or would you celebrate,

 lines blurred ,

coloring outside the lines,

the beauty of risk,

  lessons learned,

wisdom extracted ,

a story of survival,

a story of life. 

Meet us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts. 

Stories

Sunflowers in my window,

stretching to the honey colored

sun streaming in.

Mama told me to surround myself

with beautiful things.

I collect stories from strangers,

they look into my eyes 

and open their hearts.

I find beauty in them

like broken seashells washed ashore ,

like weeds I believed to be flowers,

when I was a little girl.

I collect stories of beautiful souls,

pain and sorrow.

Sober by truth and inspiration,

I find grace,

I find gratitude. 

Please meet us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Our Garden, Our Change

You must be the change you wish to see in the world.
Mahatma Gandhi

We choose our battles,

our garden filled with 

weeds and thorns.

We plant seeds and wait

the branches of our heart

soar higher.

Outside the walls of our mind

we embrace truth.

The streets like old silver

are filled with tarnished dreams.

Let the dreams find the way,

let the soul reach the sky.

We tackle battles in our yard,

our home,

knowing that we can change our demons,

we can transform,

we can evolve. 

We can't sweep mistakes,

the way we rake leaves,

but we can wear them,
share them,

like a crown of flowers

from our garden.

Meet us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Destiny

I found you in a cave

lost and wandering,
I fetched stars from the sky
to light your way.
You were juggling the past
and the present,
you were recycling your dreams.
I peeled away the layers of yesterday,
and soaked your scars in the moonlight.
I asked you to see your reflection
in the ocean,
find your way,
illuminate your soul.
Trust that this is your journey to travel,
believe that you are meant to live,
to love,
to be right here in this moment.



Please join us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.