thoughts on the Holocaust

by Alexander Kimel - Holocaust Survivor

We will never forget the selections at Auschwitz,
Where Black Jackals condemned millions to gas,
Right - death, left - life, right death... death ...death.
The black finger, surrounded  with barking dogs,
Works like the Angel of Death, creating living hell.

Children are torn apart from the tender embrace
Of mothers, clinging to their treasures.
Babies wailing from hunger,
Parents parting tearfully with their children.
Fathers shaken with  helpless rage.
The condemned form a column of trembling fear.


Soon the mass of fainting humanity
Is lead to the clean foyer of death.
Disrobe quickly, take a shower and you will be fed.
Food!  Food! The hungry mass of disoriented humanity
Awakens runs and fights to get into the chamber of gas.

The heavy door closes and the cyclone dropped.
Soon the parents choke and turn blue,
Later the children turn rigid with death
The people become a twisted load,
Of intertwined limps and heads glued with blood.

When the human pulp is ready for the works,
Sondercommando quickly pull,
The bodies apart, peel the gold from the mouths.
And the remains are taken to the open pit,
Where the bones are cleaned with fire,
And the fat drained for human soap.

Six days a week the Jackals drink beer,
And rejoice doing the Devil's work.
Sunday is the day of rest, the day
When the Jackals ride to the Church, to praise God
And assure the Salvation of their pious souls.

Deutschland, Deutschland Uber Alles!
In this Kingdom of Evil,
There is no peace for the Righteous.
It is the wicked that inherited
This tortured World, engulfed
In the red, milky, cry-absorbing fog,
Guarding the wilted conscience of man.

   I   C A N N O T   F O R G E T

THE ACTION IN THE GHETTO OF ROHATYN, MARCH 1942.
        by Alexander Kimel- Holocaust Survivor.

     Do I want to remember?
The peaceful ghetto, before the raid:
     Children shaking like leaves in the wind.
Mothers searching for a piece of bread.
     Shadows, on swollen legs, moving with fear.
No, I don't want to remember, but how can I forget?

     Do I want to remember, the creation of hell?
The shouts of the Raiders, enjoying the hunt.
     Cries of the wounded, begging for life.
Faces of mothers carved with pain.
     Hiding Children, dripping with fear.
No, I don't want to remember, but how can I forget?

     Do I want to remember, my fearful return?
Families vanished in the midst of the day.
     The mass grave steaming with vapor of blood.
Mothers searching for children in vain.
     The pain of the ghetto, cuts like a knife.
No, I don't want to remember, but how can I forget?

     Do I want to remember, the wailing of the night?
The doors kicked ajar, ripped feathers floating the air.
     The night scented with snow-melting blood.
While the compassionate moon, is showing the way.
     For the faceless shadows, searching for kin.
No, I don't want to remember, but I cannot forget.

     Do I want to remember this world upside down?
Where the departed are blessed with an instant death.
     While the living condemned to a short wretched life,
And a long tortuous journey into unnamed place,
     Converting Living Souls, into ashes and gas.
No.  I Have to Remember and Never Let You Forget.