crunchkin

Hitler Weeps

*Prelude *
The final poet
lays the final wreath
upon the final altar
of the final idol
from whose broken side pour grey ashes…
The milky morning flutters overhead
and mingles in the rivers of Babylon.

1.This story cannot end
history neither advances nor falls
with the stroke of a pen,
or the folly of little men;
but writes her lines for the wise
in the dimming tide
when prophets speak and poets sing.

Michel de Nostradame
With beauty and elegant rhyme
Described the suicide of the
“Captain of Greater Germanie”
in a lowly Berlin bunker.
But leagues of prophets
Who mingle futures in their mindseye
scarce foretell
when Hitler weeps.

2. Seven fighter planes prepare for battle
over a winedark sea to distant, desert lands,
Dominoes one by one to fall.
Peacekeepers praise the war to end all wars,
But now I know the present war will never cease
Nor will midnight’s black hand retire nor rest
But the silver angel brings swift news---
Sadam Hussein laughs and laughs
At jokes no one else can share,
As the Fuhrer laughed at Berchtesgarden with Eva Braun.
But now it is all too clear that Hitler weeps.

3.Tears/ mighty beacons of regret
that shine and swell
bespeaking
volumes we cannot tell
like laughter and screaming,
joy over the water.
A metallic sky mists with radiated waste
Children with fresh tongues taste
And shriek the meaning of the many ways we weep.

Sorrow which memory contains
And won’t release
As divinities guard mountain keeps
where eagles peer from craggy peaks.
Will Wotan and Thor release their captive wings to glide?

Time is turning. He has been set free
From the silence of the stony gods
Without reason, without hesitation
Alone in his cave,
Hitler weeps.

4. After 50 years nature is all but forgotten---
Along the swift autobahn
sleek Mercedes shine and roll
reflecting the yellow of the sun
on roads that snake and never seem to end.

Streams mingle with wasting heaps which run
In aqueducts beneath motortrucks.
Dead fish rest with whited bird bones
And rainbow oil streaks
Each a symbol of this age.

Every word deceives and flees.
Ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
From a distant glutted sky
Hitler weeps.

5.Music on the radio blares
grinding a metallic symphony,
strings soaring, cellos waving in counterfeit harmony,
drums pounding out another volley and rattle…
This composition falling apart at the seams
once gave beautiful themes,
of mental order and emotion
Decorously wrought.
But no music can echo the pain
When Hitler weeps.


6.The human path is long
a rocky road to hoe.
Alone on a spinning wheel within a wheel.
What dreaming cannot speak
Morning muttering awakes
To understand that this man cries
And know how Hitler weeps.

7.Silence has left her vigil
by steely midnight’s gate…
Hearken now
the silver winged angels wait
at the poet’s oaken door.
Mountains mutter
Oceans roar.

Silence is long enduring
But silence keeps her faith no more.

At first a wisp of metallic mist
Wakening wide,
I am not mistaken
Fifty years have flown
In the homeland,
Now the earth sings a haunting refrain,
Uncontrollably now,
Hitler weeps.