Hello my friend. I was station in Germany in 1976. I went to Auschwitz and Dachau. I could smell the odor of hair in the ovens. I agree. We can't not forget. But since the Germany deathcamps. So many more mass murdered in our world. Hello Phill. Powerful and worthwhile words.
Coyote
Powerful piece of writing. Lest we forget!
December 2014, I walked through that gate and it still haunts me.
It concerns me that because we are teaching history, we are seeing hand gestures and hearing language from those dark days.
There are many in this world that have been through traumatic and terrible things, yet we rise from scorched burned embers that are only ashes. People rise from the most extreme and hellish situation and keep moving forward.
Hello, Dear, Phil Oz O'fee,
I really like the depiction of a eerie place where is no man's land
a place where things go wrong, yet the there is justice,
I question, but I hope dearly, there is light, in the darkness,
---Maynard
We will never forget---we just can't....it is a horrific scar on the face of humanity to have happened at all.
That a race could see itself as superior enough to carry out those atrocities.
No, we will never forget as long as each of us has a heart.
Thank you for posting this beautiful poem in memory of all those innocent people who perished in the death camps. A stain on the face of humanity. Tears at the heart.
A terrible event ... but it looks now that the world has forgotten. We have imported hate into our countries and by our leaders lack of a backbone and a willingness to abandon a group of people for the sake of votes we have returned to 1938 and the rise of Nazism.
As Burke stated “the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men (and women) to do nothimg”
Hello my friend. I was station in Germany in 1976. I went to Auschwitz and Dachau. I could smell the odor of hair in the ovens. I agree. We can't not forget. But since the Germany deathcamps. So many more mass murdered in our world. Hello Phill. Powerful and worthwhile words.
Coyote
I am caught in a time spiral of confusion; that period we all experience between birth and death.
Somewhere inside hides a poet, writer, lyricist and/or whatever, laying dormant and suppressed by s.. more..