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Aramitz J Durant Sep 2019
a world apart, i stood
where two universes had divided,
where a wall had fallen, crumbled
into dust and ashes of
the men who had attempted

to cross it;
with all their might and desperation
risked their lives so that
their children might one day
see freedom

with their wide wondering eyes
of naïveté and joy.
a world apart i stood,
desperately clinging to their stories:
their martyrdom;

the names i would never know;
the stories that would go
untold with nobody who knew
them, nobody to tell them

a world apart i stood
watching the snowfall in
berlin, dampening the streets
where the death strip once
tore life from the innocent

in the name of separation;
the falseness of east and
a world apart i stood,
glad that it was no more.
This was written shortly after my first trip to Berlin last year. The sacrifices people made in order to escape to the West was something that really touched me; the accidental martyrs the Wall made out of people who only ever wanted to be free. This poem is for Peter Fechter, who I hope is finally at peace and free, wherever he may be.
Aramitz J Durant Sep 2019
there was a girl at friedrichstrasse station
she waved
through the barrier
with dainty hands and gentle eyes of kindness
and i smiled at her carefully making sure
nobody noticed my face
the gleam in her eyes doe-like and sweet like she cared
even though she didn’t know me even though
she was supposed to hate me
even though it’s been hours days weeks months

years i still think of her
those shining eyes that smile that changed me
the westerner that i should not have looked at
wanted craved
for so long even while my friends kissed
boys at midnight under the stellar stars
in alexanderplatz
my mind still returned to her loyal
the way a dog returns to its master
forever thinking of the girl at friedrichstrasse station
Neon Beaches May 2018
My little astroman
You float through the empty
A tiny white
Against a giant blue,
A beautiful diamond in an infinite black
It is free
It is alive
It is wonderful
It is Earth


My little astroman,
Utterly alone
With no one by your side
Sit and watch
As the world

In an instant
With blinding brilliance
A once Beautiful diamond
Has become grey coal
For this gem is marked with fury and fire

The world blazes,
it’s charred throat too burnt to scream
It’s eyes to seared too see

My little astroman
You know you will never go back
Never see the red
Nor feel the green
Never hear the birds
Nor taste the air reach out...

My little astroman
no longer do you have a home
My little astroman,
Now, do you float alone
Poetrylover Jul 2016
Boy's mind:
Does she miss me?
The way the stars misses the moon,
I miss her,
bullets shot
My mind is going crazy,
Are you okay?
The war of blood,
Separated us apart,
Losing all the parts,
I see her face,
Among every aspect of the night,
Wondering if she is okay,
If she is safe.
I read the newspaper every morning,
Hoping not to find her name pouring with ink.

Girl's mind:
Does he miss me?
The way Poe misses Lenore,
I miss him,
missile hits the other town
My heart pumps faster!,
God is he okay ?
Every time I hear a bullet shot,
I know that he is fighting to get to me,
I know that he will come,
I sit every night staring at the stars,
Wondering if our love is with no scars,
I wake up every morning reading the daily newspaper,
Hoping not find his name pouring with ink.
i just wanted to imagine that among all the wars that are happening to be, that there are two lovers separated by the war, so i hope you like it.
a city old in trades,
in cultivation of the arts
based on industrious commerce
   of its citizens who boast
the world's oldest commercial fair

the city in which
Martin Luther and Melanchthon
led fierce disputes
with delegations of the Pope

where J. S. Bach found stimulus
and time to master
harmony and rhythm
close to perfection,
(and that was shocked listening
to Leibniz's monadologies),

the city of which
Goethe spoke with praise,
that saw Napoleon defeated
on the nearby battlefield
(and built a monument of quite
imposing ugliness one hundred years
after the fact),

this city suffered hard
from two world wars
followed by over forty years
of dreams gone sour of a new society,
until, most recently,
this city once again
became a catalyst of major change.

Yet those who kept their meetings
at St. Niklas' church
and by their stubborn protest
helped to reunite
a country separated by walls for generations -
those you don't see,
walking the streets of Leipzig now.

What strikes the eye
(besides the crumbling blackened ruins
of former glory,
and strip-mined land
just out of town)
is Wall Street's new frontier,
the bustling peddlers of new easy wealth
as they appear on every street downtown,
offering anything from oranges
to shoes and South Pacific cruises.

Ramshackled pre-fabs built on shabby parking lots
already stake the claims of big banks,
business and insurance companies
that promise earnings, safety and security
to eager though bewildered customers.

   "Pecunia non olet" says the poster
   of the postal savings bank,
   and shows a happy pig
   rooting in money.

Old stores, in order to survive,
have started selling
new and shiny goods
to happy new consumers,

only a few resist

and hesitate to walk a mile
for the melange of
fast food, cigarettes and *****
offered at makeshift stands
that seem have come
to symbolize the great new freedom

of the new Wild East.

          * *
Written upon visiting Leipzig one year after the Cold War Iron Curtain came down.
"Pecunia  non olet" (Latin proverb) = "Money doesn't smell!"
right in the eye
of history
I walk
among the crowds
that taste
the absence of confinement

   an unfamiliar space

between the band stands
on the avenues
where people
test a freedom
   newly won
still strange
as yet in need
of daily reassurance

crossing and recrossing
   the big gate
   and the bridges
that for generations
connected nothing
marked divisions kept
   by guns and barbed wires
   and well-lit empty spaces
   between walls
   watched from towers

the new reunion
brings happy smiles for most
   quiet tears for some
new doubts for many
who  are uncertain
about their lives together
after decades
of separation

right in the eye
of history I walk

just now and then
a little bit afraid
that she might
rub her eye

just now

       * *
Written October 3, 1990, about one year after the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Dark soul Nov 2014
Dancing in the praise of deities
The Devil ; being the envious
Cold matter gathers around
While the Sirens of war surround
The Devil talks profanity
God stands in a dilemma
Revert your opinions and comment .

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