The 11th Commandment
On Holocaust Memorial Day - Let's remember that we can never be indifferent to those forlorn by power and propaganda.
It is Holocaust Remembrance Day. I remember it and have written and studied and thought about the Holocaust since my early days on this giving, taking earth. Please see my book of poetry on the Holocaust, I’ll share some essays in the future, here in this space.
What speaks to me today is how the Holocaust was as much about “indifference” as “killing” and hatred. It was about so many people who were indifferent to the plight of others - who rejected our shamed humanity.
Now, right now, so many are suffering from the restrictions. Schools, I can’t bear to even think of it and the damage to our children. Not just from wearing masks but from us/them, the ideology, as this video shows. Could have been from Goebbels himself.
We all know of Reverend Niemoller’s - First They Came For The Socialists, famous sermon. But we should also listen to this Auschwitz survivor who speaks to the 11th commandment - Thou Shalt Not Be Indifferent.
So many, right now, are indifferent. Us / Them. Who cares of those x@%$%$? Heads down, as society goes on with hatred, criminality and “othering”.
Let’s remember the holocaust by refusing to be divided by so much fear and so much political propaganda.
I wrote this poem in a cafe in Heidelberg after a trip to my aunt’s house in Darmstadt, near Frankfurt.
A Trip To Germany
I see in every broom stroke so many swept away.
I see in the punctual train's departure, lines of my people leaving.
I see in the shiny steel garbage bins, each ghetto's new built wall.
I see in the precisely parked cars, rows of people frozen at roll call.
I see in the cold church's grandeur, those strict edicts and purity laws.
I see in the clapping hands, umpah-pahs, the silence of people, obedient hems and haws.
I see in every recycling plant's chimney, the last breath of Eva and Miriam too.
I see in the garden's nice set rows, ashes once so brightly painted toes.
I see in every well-cut hedge, the rows of bodies found in the sun of May.