The shadows of the ghetto

Lorenz

The shadows of the ghetto

have smiles petrified

by the medusa's gaze .

They bent to the wall ,here,

then turn back to the wall, there .

The shadows of the ghetto 

have souls of stone 

and empty metal tins

lethal symphony ...

   they prayed a god 

crowned with barbed wire ,

laughing into its beard...

 They do not look up

to the wrath of heaven .

Worn out with gutter skins

the shadows of the ghetto ,

speak esperanto with brother rodent ,

herd that knows no fear 

of the slaughterer ...

 Around midnight 

putting away the none day star 

they make genderless children 

who don't have time for a name...

In the morning ,after taking out 

the garbages and shave 

in front of the mirador ...

 The story ends somewhere ,

yesterday or next year in Jerusalem ...

Head down ,walking among 

 a crowd of distracted clouds ,

they greet each other politely ,

exchanging some state secrets 

 about climate .

''  What beautiful sunshine over Paris 

  Herr  Doktor ! ''

- '' will you still alive in Warsaw 

 tomorrow  mein lieber Rabbi  ? ''

  These are only cubic abstractions 

  or algebraic destiny .

   With no celebrations .

No one knows when rain will come ...

The right-hand street leads nowhere .

the left-hand street ends on the call square.

  Ghosts of the ghetto seeking the shadow...

 ( Prophety of the century )

 

 

 

 '' 

 

 

  • Author: lorenz (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 16th, 2025 08:08
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 11
  • Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Ellen Marsell
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Comments +

Comments3

  • sorenbarrett

    Layers of symbolism where we all live in our own ghetto and in fact are our ghetto. A lovely write and a fave

  • Lorenz

    It can be seen from a psychoanalytical angle !

  • Ellen Marsell

    The text can be seen as an anti-cyclical warning: if the spiral of revenge and violence does not come to a halt, the shadow of the ghetto will forever wander through new streets, carrying with it both the pain of the victims and the tragedy of the executioners.
    The most powerful line is — "No one knows when rain will come…"

    • Lorenz

      Medusa's petrifying gaze is that of history !



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