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Erin E Esping Mar 2019
I crumble
Time and time again into
Myself, I crinkle
Folding up upon myself
Hiding what’s inside
I break, shatter
Spread out in a million
Tiny, sharp, disarrayed pieces
Amplifying  my scream my
Cry, it’s deafening
But everyone here is already deaf.

So I fall
Deeper and deeper
Into the endlessly hole
With no lader to climb
No rope to hold onto.
No I endlessly fall in the
Endlessly pit.

I crumble
Into Myself.
Erin E Esping Jan 2018
I can remember people strolling down the damp streets
The smell soup gliding in the wind, what a sweet mixture
Potatoes and parsley tickling your nose
People wrapped up in torn shawls waiting in line, but content they were.
I can remember the clattering of teeth, the movement of lips
The expressions of ideas, so different in all,
No one was afraid to criticize, to call out.
People had a somber mood, no doubt about that.
But it was better than what was to come.
It was so much better.

I can remember the end of ‘29.
The dismal fall of our state, of our home.
Suddenly my walls were painted with bills of despair,
A cruel reminder of our payment that we can’t pay.
Since the Weltkrieg, I was told to hate those Amis.
They destroyed our Economy, and I know they wish they didn’t
Because in that vacuum arose a grim beginning
And in ‘33 our world as we knew was to crumble at our weak feet.
But I can remember the future was foggy, so we decided to walk forward,
Yet that walk was instead a sprint to ultimate death of ideas,
And a sprint to the death of peace.

I can remember the deterioration of our lives and freedom.
Nothing was being spoken of the crimes we were committing.
Our friends were being hauled away to not be seen again,
But they were not our friends, they were only to blame, we thought.
I can remember the bitter september of  ‘39
When we took our east neighbor’s home and called it our own.
Not knowing what we had started, we trudged forward
Handing 20 year olds by the millions gas masks and guns.
But they could not ward off the sins yet to become.

I can remember hating our deeds,
It went against every good and heartful moral.
My words were to suffocate in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course I was.
The harassment and suffering that would follow
Would be so emance I would lose all hope
Of a life that was worth living,
If I still had one.

I can remember the clearing of the smoke and gas,
The rising sun of September ‘45, a gleaming metal of promise.
And we ran out to the streets and cheered on our loss.
For our loss was our liberation, our emancipation.
And while our state layed dispersed and in ruins,
We were more put together than ever before.
Yet all good things must come to an end, don’t they.
And Berlin was cut and split once more.

I can remember the change in my street,
Named after that soviet hero, known as Marx.
His named controlled the Allee, and it was the farthest we could go,
Until the officers shoved us and forced us to turn around.
They say the sun rises on the east, but it really only shines on the west.
And this lack of sun drove our leaders fridged.
Calling for a blanket to insulate us in.

I can remember how cold it became in ‘61
The year our ‘needed’ blanket was made.
155 kilometers it spat on the pure soil of our destroyed home.
And when my neighbor tried to cross it, he was shot down
Blood of a friend tattooing the wall, ink spilling over like a broken pen.
Writing the grim truth of our situation, the lies trickling as a river.
If I could of protest it, I would of, but all those who did didn’t last long.
And if the hand on the trigger was not to pull it,
Gulags were to be our next home.

I can remember hating his deeds,
It went against every good and heartful moral.
My words were to suffocate in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course I was.
The harassment and suffering that would follow
Would be so emance I would lose all hope
Of a life that was worth living,
If I still had one.

“...Open this gate! ...Tear down this wall!”
The words flowed past the barrier into our ears.
A second liberation, a second emancipation.
Please freedom, please drag us by our head and force us to stand.
Let us stand with our brothers and stand until our knees buckle.
I can remember the arms around me, the arms of my lost son.
Pulling me up from the depths of the east, until I was standing on the wall.
The crowd cheering beneath us and cheering beside us.
Free, this is free, I am free, we are free.
But nothing lasts forever.

Many years later, many years have gone through time
My memories linger, dancing in circles
Reminding me of the pain and suffering we went through
To figure out what it means to be us.
I can remember the days when everything seemed lost.
I can remember the days when we were a disgrace
A mistake in world’s code, an horrific accident that was never meant to happen
But time has fading upon itself
For a brief moment we knew who we were.
And then we remembered all that has been done in our name
Now we insist on cleaning ourselves.

Destroy us. Rid us of all things that make us us.
Vacate the room of all bad, and get rid of all good too.
Nothing shall remain of us. Nothing good can last in our name.
At least that's what they want me to think, but I can’t and I won't.
I lay here, alone, abandoned, dying against my will.
My words suffocating in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course am I.
Silence is what keeps me alive.

I can remember being told to be silent
My mother whispering in my ear, “I know, Don’t say it.”
“If they hear you, you could be sent away.”
I can remember disclosing to my son through the thin black wire
“I can’t say it, they can hear it, and I would sent away.”
And now I lay in the skin of the scared man I have always been
Too afraid to fight back, too afraid to say my truth.
Unable to alter the past, and no control over the future.
No one is here to listen to the wise, to listen to those
Who have suffered through forced silence twice over.
But we are Germans, silencing is what we do.
Erin E Esping Jul 2016
I've got miles and miles and miles to go,
Upon lanes of busy highway roads.
More bridges to cross and cities to go through,
And billboards that make me say whoop-de-do.
I see Toyota, Ford, Chevy, and Mazda,
Volkswagen, Catalack, BMW, and Honda.
There's prices for gas on signs for gas stations,
As I continue to drive I start to lose my patience.
Ten, eleven, twelve dead squirrels,
When I look at them I want to hurl.
As I hop and hop from state to state,
I wonder which one will be my fate.
And as I count each mile as my true foe,
Each mile is one less mile to go.
Erin E Esping Apr 2016
We walk, we talk
We laugh, we sing
But never do we
Really think

We fake the smile
A real dim glow
As the gray cloud move on
Like a sad old crow

We cry alone
With no one there
Because in truth
No one cares

But we feel no pain
When we're all alone
Because we may think
But we never know.
Erin E Esping Feb 2016
Hace frio.
Me gusta
Cuando llueve.

El agua
En las casa.
Yo Miro.

A el agua;
Yo estoy

Hoy es
Y llueve,

Yo corro.
Yo corro y yo corro
Cuando llueve.

Los pantalones cortes
Además llueve
En sábado.  

Yo descanso.
Yo estoy cansada.
“Yo no trabajo más,” yo hablo.
Pero yo aprendo,
Yo trabajo,  siempre.

Pero, yo estoy feliz
Cuando yo trabajo
Porque, me gusta sábado
Y llueve, siempre,
Y yo bailo con el agua.

Canta, el agua.
Canta a me.
En sábado frio,
Nosotros cantamos,
El agua y me.

Sábado es bueno.
Sábado es simpático.
Me gusta sábado
Cuando el agua y yo
Cantamos y bailamos.
Pero no me gusta lunes,
Martes, miércoles,
Jueves, viernes.
Porque yo estoy en la casa,
No en la escuela.

Mi madre, no, mi madrastra
Es mala y seria.
“No les gustas,” ella habla.
“Tú eres débil y pobre. No les gustas,”
Ella habla otra vez y otra vez.  

Pero, en sábado,
Yo corro.
Porque yo no trabajo
Para mi madrastra
En la casa mala.

Yo corro, cuando
Miro una la chica.
No ella baila en el agua.
No ella canta en el agua.
¿Por qué?

Ella mira me.
Ella habla, “Hi. My name is Basil.”
Yo hablo, “No hablo inglés.”
Ella habla, “Ok. Me llamo Basil.”
Basil. Un nombre bonito.  

Basil habla, “¿Cómo te llamas?”
Yo hablo, “Catrin.”
“Mucho gusto, Catrin” Basil habla.
“Igualmente, Basil” Yo hablo,
Pero no nosotros paseamos.

“¿Estas tu nuevo aquí?” Basil habla.
“No,” Yo hablo.
“¿Estoy yo tu amiga?”
“No.” Ella habla, “¿Por qué?”
“El agua es mi amigo uno,” y yo corro.

Yo estoy en la casa.
No me gusta la casa.
No mi madrastra está aquí.
Pero, el gato está aquí.
Me gusta el gato.

Nombre del gato es Licorice.
Nosotros descansamos.
Yo leo mi libro inglés.
Yo práctico mi inglés.
“Hello,” yo hablo, “es Hola.”

El gato habla, “¡Miau!”
Licorice gusta comer.
“Paseas con me,” Yo hablo.
Él come.
Yo miro.

Yo miro y yo dibujo.
Yo dibujo Licorice.
“¿Miau?” Licorice habla.
“Está bien, Licorice.”
Pero no está bien.

Adiós sábado noches.
Hoy es domingo y mañana.
Mi madrastra no está aquí.  
Mi madrastra no está aquí sábado noches.
Que es bueno.

Hoy, yo corro, otra vez.
Yo miro la chica otra vez.
Basil pasea a me.
“¡Tú estás ilegal!” Basil habla.
“¿Qué?” yo hablo.

Yo miro.
“¿Por qué?” yo hablo.
Yo estoy triste.
Pero el agua baila y canta.

Mi casa es en Dallas Texas,
Pero yo soy de Chihuahua, México.
¿Soy yo libre?
Sí y no
Yo soy libre en México.

Sí, en Dallas,
Yo soy ilegal.
Pero cuando yo canto y bailo con el agua,
Yo soy
Erin E Esping Nov 2015
I speak, but my voice is not heard
Yet I sing and my sorrow is heard
I scream and my pain is heard
I silent and my absence is heard.
Some think I don’t speak
Because I’m full of glee
But the few who really know me
I don’t speak
Because I
Erin E Esping Jan 2015
Tell me.
Tell you what?
Tell me that everything will be okay, that the rain will move on, and that the sun will shine again.
But I can't.
Why can't you tell me that the flowers will bloom and the birds will cry and laughter will fill the world?
Because, nothing will be okay. The bases of life and love have been destroyed. The rain comes at night and is too hard, too powerful to stop. The sun will forever be covered in black smoke. The flowers and the birds have died so no more flowers and birds can become.
Well then tell me, tell me it won't last forever. Tell me it will stop for once with peace and only peace around us.
But I can't.
Why can't you tell me that this can be over?
Because, I don't know if it can.
Based on the WW2 Blitz
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