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Carlo C Gomez Jan 2023
keep the photographs
the city is overexposed again

take more walks in the nearby woods
the world we knew as children

watch out for frogs and detonators
mind the wires

new aerial boundaries at dawn
no one steps inside by choice

adapt to the proper order
and no sleeping under tables

the reflection tower is a good place to start
tourist trap, a certain approximate

bring the thing under the couch
in case of an unexpected visitor

more nightmares cut out of the newspaper
what is an Astra 600?

three different hat sizes
Hannie says yes to ménage à trois

the joy in discovery
the joy in forgetting

like God without a compass
not a lot, just forever
The Oversteegen sisters and friend Hannie Schaft worked to sabotage the **** military presence in the Netherlands. They used dynamite to disable bridges and railroad tracks. Additionally, they aided Jewish children by smuggling them out of the country or helping them escape concentration camps.

The Oversteegens and Schaft also lured German soldiers to the woods under the pretense of a romantic overture and then killed them. Freddie would approach the soldiers in taverns and bars and ask them to "go for a stroll" in the forest.
Poetic T Feb 2020
We dropping it low before
            it became came trendy..

We flying higher than any man
                  could shot us low


We never lost control,  lights below

                                about to be dimmed

Dropping our attitude,  
                   we showed

that we could drop it harder

than any man an then some more.

Flying with our crew we were the angels
               dropping our vengeance below.

No one was safe when we flew,
    we were angles of death, of life.

We flew when others couldnt.

Our names were avenging beauties,
          and we kissed all below

with the fire of kisses falling from above.
World War 2 woman flying planes and dropping there kisses below kissing the ground in fire..
cassie marie Sep 2019
There are seven stages of grief
The first being denial
We deny that we are here
In this hell on Earth
We deny that some of our family members have been taken into the hands of death
We deny that we went through what we went through
In hopes that we will forget it ever happened
The second is the pain
The pain comes when it finally hits
Your family is dead
You will never be that same happy kid as you once were
The happy-go-lucky kid you were before the camps
The realization that your body will never work the same way
The next is anger
The frustration you have been holding back
Not at the Nazis or the Germans
You are frustrated at yourself
You are mad at yourself for being in that situation
You do not know why you are mad at yourself
But you refuse to place the blame anywhere else
The next stage is depression
The hole in your heart where your happiness used to lain
The realization that you are now by yourself and there is no one who will understand you anymore
No one will speak the language that us survivors speak
No matter how good of a therapist you are
It is a foreign language only select few speak
There is another stage we went through
The upward turns
The realization that you will be ok
You realize that you do not need your family to be ok
You do not need anyone who survived with you
You only need yourself
And that is all you have
There is another stage
This being particularly the hardest
It is working in an everyday life
With your new setbacks and PTSD
The new you starts to work properly
There is one more stage
It is acceptance
You finally accept what happened
You accept the fact that everything that you went through
Is not fiction
It is real life
You accept the fact that we went through inhumane treatments and tortures
And we accept all of it
We realize and accept that we were almost all killed off
Weather by sickness or ******
We accept we were the lucky ones
And never look back
I wrote this for a school assignment last year, and now it's being submitted into scholarship contests:)
Casey Jan 2019
In Vilna lives a young Polish girl, so wealthy and carefree

Suddenly, away goes she and her family

Taken by force, pushed into a truck

Belongings stuffed into a trunk

A train awaits as they file in

The door closes and the light is dim

The young girl asks, "Where are we going?"

Her father replies, "Only the Russian soldiers are knowing."

Weeks fly by on the railroad

Ever so slowly the train goes

The prisoners alike arrive at a town

Once again pushed into trucks and carted around

The girl and her family arrive at a mining camp

The grandmother says repulsively, "We look like tramps."

"The land is so flat!" The girl remarks

"We're in Siberia...." The father says with a heavy heart

Silk clothes soiled and heads hung low

Into makeshift mud houses, the capitalists go

The landscape, nothing but brown and dried grass

The young girl thinks, "how long will this heat last?"

To the gardens, she goes

To **** the hundreds of shrunken potatoes

Her family is to work in the mine

On little bread and cheese, they dine

Finally relocated to a nearby village

Everyone so hungry, none dare to pillage

The girl goes to school and makes new friends

She wishes hopefully that learning won't end

Her family with their own mud house

Having not to worry about a single mouse

A letter arrives one day

To war, the father must be sent away

He takes the train to the front lines

Everyone says their goodbyes

Weeks later, the newspaper arrives

Heavy casualties reported, from those same front lines

They receive a letter from the father

"I'm alive." It reads, "About crying, don't bother."

Winter creeps in and nothing is left to keep warm

The girl steals coal and wood shavings thinking, "it couldn't do any harm"

Quickly the money goes by

The young girl takes up knitting on the fly

Her knitted sweaters earn them milk and potatoes

She spends less time with her friends, though

The little mud house too cold to bare

They find new people to live with, no warm clothes to wear

Years pass and the girl turns fifteen, not young anymore

Seven years they have spent in Siberia, living like the poor

Word arrives that the war is completed

From Siberia, the Germans had packed up and retreated

A letter comes, saying that the little family can go home

They take the train and upon arrival begin to roam

The streets are barren with nothing left

They find their house, not spared of theft

The father appears much older

The weather in Siberia was much colder

Than what Vilna, Poland was like

The girl takes her father's hand and family alike

The years of exile are done

The war is over, the Allies have won
I made this poem October 11, 2016. It was for an LA book project. This is based off a book I read, The Endless Steppe. I had to write a total of 3 poems for the project. For the first one, it had to be a summary of the book. FYI, the book takes place during WW2.
Zachery Oct 2018
The night that was Fought
Jew against Aryan
Filled with sin
No-one had to win
But the **** party
Thought of a race oh so hearty
Emotions ran high
Soldiers were high on ****
Forced to their death
March, March soldier boy
Germany's little toy
So many of you young and coy
They created courage pills
To give you a thrill
So that you could ****
Just until
The dirt was cleansed
Grease guns
No more fun
British and Germans
Toms and Jerrys
A ration on sherry
Line up girls and boys
Off to the front you go
Some will lose the odd toe
In the Russian snow
Little ones be glad
Most never to see their sons again
Germany full of sin
Allies for the win
Nuremberg trials for the ****
No more of their party
Sentenced to death
Most still high on ****
15 year old boys
Killed for spying
****** youth
Find the truth
14-18 sent to war
The bullets they tore
Too young to fight
But they had the might
Pride and honor
But the horror
For the warrior
It ended
So many dead
Slaughtered in their beds
We took their wives
And the husbands lives
We failed to see the problem
Was us the Human
So repent for our sins
Even though we took a win
Did anyone really win?
All guilty of some sin
For ww2
Anwar Francis Feb 2016
Ma is sitting on the porch
just before the laid out crumble
of stone outlined by brick and mortar
iron bands, gold shell casings
and silence
except for the sky
did you know colors can speak
burnt orange clouds
like fluffed up dried blood
its been raining for years
on shirts, on limbs
on the inside of women’s thighs
bitten by the cold
that’s how we got here
the place where we are shown
what we have shown
what does Pa think of all this?
he’s looking right up at that sky
scarred and singed
defiant in his brokenness
feelings awash amid the rubble
now comes the season of atonement.
Last month I went to Germany for the first time, and learned a lot about World War II and its effects on the people who participated in it.   I wanted to think about a little boy, growing up at this time, and what it might be like for him to look out at the effects of the war, just after it concluded.
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm

It all occurred with Germany
Japan was there, the world was scared
To storm the beach of Normandy

Power struggle with no regrets
Imperialist japan with minor fits
Lashing out to focus on three
“America, China, and the Soviet please”

This led to begin in a new world war
With 2K killed at pearl harbor
The holocaust powered even more
To be ****** to death, until  ‘44

June 9th, and yards to go
200 stretched from land to coast
10,000 men that made the march
Across the beach, into the marsh

A revenge that tastes so bitter and sweet
For the surprise attack, on the pearl harbor fleet
The event that took our country to war
It paid with bloodshed, 10,000 hearts torn

And when D-day ceased, and the smoke parted clear
We dropped upon 2 cities
Our own 2 tears
That revenged the fallen
And vanquished the feared

The axis fleet, now defeated and gone
They dispersed their union
For ****** was wrong

And what of Japan?
Well they restored their towns
From their cities destructed…
A full 2 miles around

And to this very day
We weep for the wept
That adopted our tears
And ended up dead

296 billion in debts
At least in today’s dollars and cents
For a country whose heart
Was torn to bits

60 million…
If that’s what it takes…
To conquer the axis…
Their lives, they gave…
...And the war, they won…
...And won from their grave…

And on opposing sides?
To win or to die
Japan, Germany, and Italy reside
With 16 million casualties

They pounded on Poland
The sacked the Soviet
They fought the French
And got all the way to Greece even

They never left the Netherlands
They were the bane of Belgium
They never gave up Norway
Or the liquidation of Luxemburg’s location

They caused a sort of havoc
Everywhere they went
They threatened the world
With everything they sent

They tried to take the Jewish and the handicapped
To hell
And ended up bringing on themselves
A hellish, brutish, world

This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
This is about world war 2, if you like this, then you can check out my Salem witch trials poem, both are historically accurate

— The End —