"babi" poems
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
New birthdays new babi es
Marriages are graduations:
Promotions for bachelors & bacheloerettes
A new morning gone
I'm moving on, I'm moving on
A death, a crash, a disease
Goodbye Sparky, goodbye
Births followed by deaths followed by
Commercial breaks, cups of coffee and
back to more happy, happy
birthdays.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
All we are; I implore you
Come out
Come out
Isolation is icy
Useless frozen wrenches
All we are
Smartthings with hearts
Opposable thumbs & firethrowers
Isolation is icy
The Pope of Murk & Decay
All we are
Every fiber of DNA and
Every lost phone number on a napkin
All we are
Overgrown starry eyed babi es
Happy birthday candles
All we are,
The cemeteries of our parents
Drain holes at the oceanfloor
Isolation is icy
Now,
melt.
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 9:35 PM UTC
Za plotem v zahradě pár bývalých přátel
plameny k nebi šlehá
Západní slunce nad hrází
si do korun stromů sedá
Po břehu korzující dívka s harfou
a větrem zčeřená hladina s kameny a trávou.
Holá alej s pahýly.
Zastav se na chvíli.
Džungle v zámeckém parku
a jaro za oknem léčebny, z které se už nevrátíš, babi.
V suterénu dech vlhkých zdí a torza laviček v parku.
Lítost se právě probouzí,
minulost ukládá k spánku.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
No monument stands over Babi Yar.
A drop sheer as a crude gravestone.
I am afraid.
Today I am as old in years
as all the Jewish people.
Now I seem to be
a Jew.
Here I plod through ancient Egypt.
Here I perish crucified, on the cross,
and to this day I bear the scars of nails.
I seem to be
Dreyfus.
The Philistine
is both informer and judge.
I am behind bars.
Beset on every side.
Hounded,
spat on,
slandered.
Squealing, dainty ladies in flounced Brussels lace
stick their parasols into my face.
I seem to be then
a young boy in Byelostok.
Blood runs, spilling over the floors.
The barroom rabble-rousers
give off a stench of ***** and onion.
A boot kicks me aside, helpless.
In vain I plead with these pogrom bullies.
While they jeer and shout,
"Beat the Yids. Save Russia!"
some grain-marketeer beats up my mother.
0 my Russian people!
I know
you
are international to the core.
But those with unclean hands
have often made a jingle of your purest name.
I know the goodness of my land.
How vile these anti-Semites-
without a qualm
they pompously called themselves
the Union of the Russian People!
I seem to be
Anne Frank
transparent
as a branch in April.
And I love.
And have no need of phrases.
My need
is that we gaze into each other.
How little we can see
or smell!
We are denied the leaves,
we are denied the sky.
Yet we can do so much --
tenderly
embrace each other in a darkened room.
They're coming here?
Be not afraid. Those are the booming
sounds of spring:
spring is coming here.
Come then to me.
Quick, give me your lips.
Are they smashing down the door?
No, it's the ice breaking ...
The wild grasses rustle over Babi Yar.
The trees look ominous,
like judges.
Here all things scream silently,
and, baring my head,
slowly I feel myself
turning gray.
And I myself
am one massive, soundless scream
above the thousand thousand buried here.
I am
each old man
here shot dead.
I am
every child
here shot dead.
Nothing in me
shall ever forget!
The "Internationale," let it
thunder
when the last anti-Semite on earth
is buried forever.
In my blood there is no Jewish blood.
In their callous rage, all anti-Semites
must hate me now as a Jew.
For that reason
I am a true Russian!
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Macbeth, Doctor Zhivago, Captain Call, Yevgeny Yevtushenko, Allen Ginsberg, and Rod McKuen Visit the Dentist but Have to Wait for Beowulf's Root Canal
In gratitude for all the wonderful dentists, hygienists, and
technicians who keep us chewing!
Macbeth Visits the Dentist
Is this a drill which I see before me
The whirring drill outstretched to my teeth
O happiest gas! Come let me clutch thee!
Before my body I throw my dental shield
Dr. Zhivago Visits the Dentist
Poor dental hygiene is for crowds of mediocrities
Only individuals seek dentistry
And they shun those who tolerate bad teeth
How many things in the world deserve our loyalty?
A dentist whose papers are in order
Captain Call Visits the Dentist
Call saw that the dentist was looking at him
The nitrous oxide drained out of him
Leaving him feeling tired
“I hate a bad tooth. I won’t tolerate it.”
Yevgeny Yevtushenko Visits the Dentist
For a tooth to come out
Some of the pain must be devoted to Stalin
Soviet dentistry demanded happy endings
I knew I could floss and brush better than Mayakovsky
Bella’s teeth were second only to those of Akhmatova
Only I could make Babi Yar all about me and my teeth
When I saw a dentist in Zima Junction
I saw the truth of the Revolution in her little mirror
Allen Ginsberg Visits the Dentist
I saw the best teeth of my generation destroyed by sugared sodas and a failure to brush and floss
dragging themselves through the medical complex at dawn looking for a fix
thinning-hair old hipsters burning for relief from aching jaws at the healing hands of dedicated professionals among their shining instruments
dedicated professionals who did not drop out of the University of Arkansas and never saw Mohammedan angels among the rooftops
Rod McKuen Visits the Dentist
I am like a molar; I have chewed alone
Gnawed a hundred hamburgers
Never found a bone
Still and all I’m toothy
Reason is you see
Once in a while along the way
Dentists have been good to me.
Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 11:23 AM UTC
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No bright star
To light the place,
Or show the spot
Where she was shot.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No cattle shed
In which to hide
Or manger to rest in,
Just a ravine,
Dark and obscene.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No angels sang,
Least none was heard
Above the din of guns
Or victims scream,
The stuff of nightmares
Not of dreams.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No shepherds came
In awe to adore
From a distant hill,
Just chill winds
Which bite
And gnaw.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No magi came
With gifts
Of frankincense,
Gold and myrrh
Or eloquent words
Or talk of a star.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
But soldiers came,
Brutal and brusque,
With SS signs
To mark them out
With bark and shout,
And their guns,
Sticks, kicks and box
Of killing tricks.
Anna died
At Babi Yar,
Beneath no star
To light the spot
Where she was shot.
Just a ravine
Dark and obscene.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
Light freckles ahead of me.
The Sun begins to swell over the channel.
Warmth grazes my hands,
As the world is awoken.
Curiosity strikes.
Draping over me is a coconut palm.
Bland, pastel walls of Casa Babi are gone.
Replaced by a golden beach.
Waves lapsing in an orchestral chorus.
I swear it's the most beautiful sight
To ever quench my ears.
Perhaps I'll order another.
Reach to my right.
My nightstand has left me.
Similar to past encounters,
I'll be mixing alone.
Luckily my feet are still sleeping.
Their beds, secure in my sandals.
Waking them, I discover a metallic object.
Digging, finding my crimson flask.
Peering past the shoreline,
Admiring the Sun's trio of color.
I take another sip, hoping,
For the first time, I'll awake in the same place.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
its like I think of you
and your here with me,
right beside me
again,
you passed when I was so young ,
yet looking back
I think you were the only one
who truly gave me love ,
for that I am so grateful ,
you made the darkest childhood and life
a bit brighter ,
you showed me that you can be spiritual without religion
you showed me art
you showed me crystals
you showed me hugs
you paid for my sewing class
I cry for you so often
these days ,
I miss you so much
I look at your picture everyday ,
I hope your in a better place in heaven
for I know you suffered so much in this life,
I hope you are proud of me,
I wish I could tattoo you in my heart
you were more of a mother to me
than my mother ever was
you were so beautiful
I miss you so much my Babi.
Jul 19, 2023
Jul 19, 2023 at 6:19 PM UTC
Good Friday 2020
___________________
The wind groans with reluctance
Sends April snow in squalls—
a tossed and careless shawl
worn long and tired with this Day
No glimpse of sun
A dirge of snow surrenders on the grass
Winter making one more pass
among us
gray with grief
Due east of Rat Island
alone
Appropriate in name
Appropriate to this, the day
surrounded only
by the jealous surf
with hateful waves
surrounded by the howls of “crucify!”
“He is not ours!
They are not ours!
We are not ours!”
Send them all away
They belong to the island
to the ground
from which they came
Not for us to cry and claim
Their abandonment
Wooden boxes fill the
trench—
A Babi Yar
of our own doing
so it seems
and yet again...
Golgotha
In the bitterness
of heart there is
an island--
Hart—I think they call it
Both a prison and a graveyard
of NYC
A place “despised and rejected”
rejected of men
an island of sorrows...
and acquainted with grief....”
“...I see myself an ancient Israelite.
I wander o’er the roads of ancient Egypt
And here, upon the cross, I perish, tortured
And even now, I bear the marks of nails....”
--Yevgeni Yevtushenko
...inscribed on the palms of His hands....
Again—
There is an island
where scores of the forgotten lie
He knows them all by name
Today it binds my tongue
with bonds of sadness
It has traveled in the tides
of time to find us
Our Babi Yar has come for us
to take us to Hart Island
Unmarked
Unloved
Unclaimed
___________________
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Babi_Jar_ravijn.jpg…
New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio acknowledged that more people are being buried at the city's potter's field, but stressed that only the bodies of the unclaimed would be buried there.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 11:30 PM UTC
"In memory of the six million Jews killed by the Nazis during the war 1939-1945
Therenstadt Stutthof Klooga Treblinka Buchenwald
Ponay Babi- Yar Transnistria Westerbork Ravensbruck
Bełżec Chełmno Lwów - Janowska
Bergen - Belsen Drancy Majdanek Dachau
Auschwitz - Oświęcim Mauthausen Sobibór
May the world never again witness such inhumanity of man against man"
Man is an excuse for a race. We put up signs of slaughter, memories of massacre, graves of gore, dreams of destruction, history of holocaust.
Six million.
A number so vast, we are unable to comprehend.
Six million:
slaughtered for no sin
rampaged for religion
killed for their kin
This is what we have come to. The ending of life.
s i x
m i l l i o n
l i v e s
May the world never again witness such inhumanity of man against man.
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 9:42 PM UTC