The Pine Trees Of Treblinka
written by: Nobby66
@douglas97_s
Birds don’t peep, peep
Polish pines still weep, weep
at Treblinka…
Looking down
on the souls
in the clinker.
To camouflage, cloak, keep secret a lair
they thrash Gdansk Gypsies, to use their flair
for peddling red roses and fortunes to lovers
to weave sweet spruce
into barbed-wire covers
to hide the camp from Allied eyes.
Malleted bones and Yiddish ashes
mixed with sand and singed eyelashes
lush line the lane to the town of Hell.
White-walled wheels draw a tormented hiss
speeding over the dissident’s abyss.
Jackbooted joy-riders in polished limousines
scarf their Arian sniffers from the six mile smell.
The six mile smell
from those who follow David’s star…
Poles piled high on fire pit grates
to shroud Himmler’s deeds –
Incinerate!
Gasoline high flames lick sore feet,
ten thousand in five hours maddening heat.
Pretty, pregnant Maya,
Warsaw Ghetto Jewess
is stripped of her mother’s maternity dress
rings torn from ivory fingers,
gold teeth pulled,
smooth black jet locks cruelly culled,
her tresses spin into U-boat sailor’s socks
while Stangl Herr ‘White Death’, whips and mocks,
guards reset the fake rail station clocks.
She ties her shoes up in a pair,
scratches her head where there used to be hair, and
shuffles along the ‘Road to Heaven’ to stand nude,
to shake and shiver,
to stand,
waiting –
outside the bricked up barracks
while the men inside scream their last,
gasp their last gasp.
Then the children,
displaced innocents shepherded in by Nazi nannies.
When all have sucked the V8 fumes
the smog from the death pit starts to plume.
Protest is answered by bayonet and axe
limbless torsos melt like wax
Maya and son sleep on a paradise bed
away from ‘Frankenstein’ Willi Mentz
who shot the bullets through the heads,
of those who beat the gas.
Away from the goose stepping demons who gather
in masses
to celebrate the Final Solution –
at this Dante-esque firework display of popping and spitting
carcasses.
Birds don’t peep, peep
Polish pines still weep, weep
at Treblinka…
Looking down
on the souls
in the clinker.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Photo taken on the 70th Anniversary Commemoration of the Prisoners Revolt at Treblinka.
Lest we forget the horrors of war and prejudice.
Reside in the Dark Kingdom of Lancashire, England.
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