Hallucinations
The trauma of the survivors of the Holocaust.

Block 10 and the water cans of gas-
They spill and flee and transcend tests
of dreams and time and insomnia.

Virgin philosophies stole away in the night the Nazis came.
The Nazis poached us hook-nosed Jews in the night that seemed so tame.
The Jews held on so tightly to the faith that was their bane.

The 'Hit' and the 'Ler' we'd tossed around
in bitter words, defenestrated
but swinging back like boomerangs.

They haunt us in screams, gunshots, blood:
Our doors they invade, our houses they flood:
They are the ghosts of the Holocaust past,
Fifty years dead but revenge they do cast.

Plant our gravestones; our lives are unused,
for death has come and our souls have defused.


-


This is the alternate poem I wrote for English class. The other one, Living Sub Rosa, might've been too... I don't know. Stupid. I'll ask for opinions tomorrow morning in class.


I don't want to come across as conceited, I'm just honestly stating a fact: I don't know if the teacher might accuse me of copying it from someone else. I wrote a far crappier poem last year and Mrs. Doris Tan asked me if I wrote it myself.


And recently I read a horror story of an eleven year old girl trying to make an original story out of the plot 'The Magic Schoolbus', and she put some really cool things inside involving bullying, smoking, slang words, that kinda stuff. Pretty impressive, for an eleven year old. Very realistic. But no, the teacher screamed at her, scribbled all over the story, threw the paper away or something, shouted 'no slang! blah blah blah! blah blah blah!', et cetera. Asshole.


The girl is about eighteenish now, I think? I don't know. I got this from the Writer's Forum on gaia. Lots of cool stuff there.


I know, this poem is just angsty crap, but still.