Out Of Poland

 

The 20th Century's most notorious

perpetrators of genocide knew their

metrics well, judging the sympathies

abroad of their Final Solution intentions

to place the most industriously-useful

of their death camps within a country

whose government now indignantly

corrects all who dare refer to 'Poland's

death camps' as having nothing to do

with them for it was all the exquisite

planning and execution of the Nazis

during Polish occupation that murdered

millions of children, women and men

with the misfortune of Jewish heritage.

Yet, hark! the world's largest purveyor

of online purchasing proudly sends out

notifications to all its clientele that they

too can be the proud possessors of the

finest and latest, most thoughtful and

conversation-provoking of Christmas

ornaments, evoking memories of past

glories with the replication of a most

famous monument in human history the

fine-art replications of Auschwitz ready

for delivery in celebration of the birth 

of a globally worshiped Jewish sage.

 

 

When Their Time Comes

 

He's had a series of 'serious' intimate

relationships, but none were permanent

a puzzle to be sure since he personifies

that old British pride in one's sturdy own

as a fine figure of a man with a most sweet

temperament to boot which not only his

mother but others knowing him corroborate.

But he's yet young and time will tell. He is

loyal to a fault, is Scott and gave his heart

to two little dogs. One wasn't enough

when aged five he sought out a companion

for that one and the two have shared his

life ever since. The five-year old is now

fifteen and during those years recurrent

cancer required two surgeries. The third

return is not likely to see another surgery

for there is also the complication of heart

problems. The ten-year-old female looks

quite svelte, she has lost ten pounds and

not until she was diagnosed with liver and

kidney cancer did he know he would soon

be completely alone. Chemotherapy every

three weeks keeps his little girl from pain

and, he says, happy for the time she has

left to him. Companions? Constant, but for

those shifts at the fire hall. Devastation of

course initially, but he has since knowing

them and caring for them resigned himself

to his good fortune even though it appears

to have come to a shuddering halt. They

look at him adoringly and he responds with

all the love and no regret he has in him.

 

Shape-Shifting Janus

 

The human animal has many attributes

some of which are integrated toward the 

goal of survival, the first imperative that

nature bestows upon her creatures.

There is the kind of drive and tenacity

that helped concentration camp inmates

to adapt to their misfortune with the

hope that rescue would eventually arrive.

There is the intent of curiosity and its

sister, exploration that drove restless

souls to the farthest ends of the Earth

to discover that there were no limitations

to aspiration. There were the minds so

heavily wedded to science their very

thoughts were capable of exploring the

universe and the impacts on human

health of the unseen creatures devised

by nature to ensure humankind could

never rest on the assurance of existence

in a hostile world. And then there are

those who among the populace consider

themselves the natural arbiters of all that

concerns civilization, assuming positions

of authority both autocratic and democratic

who may have been endowed with their

fair share of principles and intelligence

but choose in the interests of political

power to shelve unneeded albatrosses

in the greater interests of shifting gears

as and when required to be all things to

all people and in the process failing all.

 

Humankind Orphaned

 

Undeniably we remain one of nature's

works in progress, the draft plan

having undergone many spontaneous

alterations from primordial times to the

present and look, we are still evolving.

Nature has patience and she does not think

in terms of her creatures' lifespans for in

the vast time and space that she has 

dominion over we are but the briefest of 

afterthoughts.Who knows, really? She might 

even in that brief focus on humankind's

complex blueprint, have envisaged a tame

cooperative spirit somewhat like a colony

of bees or of ants working studiously together

for the common weal, and indeed her humans

have themselves on occasion expressed such

admirable intentions of emulating those

far lesser creatures. Hers is a busy agenda

however and such details must inevitably

escape her notice as she turns attention to the

much larger order of orchestrating fascinating

events in her vast universe as a whole, only

occasionally returning to the minutiae of which

humans are but one example. And having turned

that attention upon that agonizing evolution might

have muttered a plague on that disorderly house.

Heritage

 

His mother, a latter-day Madonna even 

if of the wrong tribe, whose new-era glow

adoringly considers him her "Golden Boy"

magnanimously inducting him through

her touching prayers to a distinguished

place of honour such as that held by

his sainted father who bequeathed to

this son of two paragons of virtue

dedicated to hedonistic pleasure (her)

and skillful managing of the public weal

(him) to shine a progressive light unto

the world bringing Canada back into the

realm of a middle power strategically

outweighing its size and wealth for the

greater good of humankind. This son of

the sun of sunny ways brought Canada

'back' to its presumed place in the order

of world progress in 'post-nationalism' 

for he inherited the mesmerizing charm

of his father, his cheeky acrobatic skills

and dedication to supreme showmanship

attracting all eyes to gravitate upon his

splendid form. The misfortune was that

inheritance failed to transfer the level of

intelligence required to reach the pinnacle 

of perfection assumed to be his. The result

being a constant series of malfunctions

due to dysfunction sinking Canada into one

abysmal debacle of embarrassment after 

another while the man of the moment

continues to crow happily on his success. 

 

A Grave Event

There are no graves here. Only the plaintive

wind sounding the cries of sick children their 

hopeless mothers, their spirits roaming the

infamous grounds still housing the barracks

and the crematoria, the vast ovens that spewed

human ash over the countryside, nurturing the

ground replenishing soil in an agrarian countryside.

Countless human lives ended here deliberately

and with malice suffocated by deadly gas but 

graves there are none. The site, its purpose-built 

horror chambers and the surrounding soil a 

testament to humankind's capacity to extend 

itself in a vast exercise of destruction. Walking 

in an atmosphere of hushed introspection the 

current leader of the nation that aspired to rule 

the world and was waylaid by its focus on genocide

strolls alongside the leader of the occupied host 

country on whose soil the colossal affront to 

humanity occurred. One demurring responsibility

the other sighing at the inhumane blight her nation 

was responsible for. The world is their witness

they abhor the past even as the corrosive events

of the present creep toward an intended renaissance.

 

 

 

He Pleases Me So

 

When we were young a lifetime ago

I was the one who trusted and he was 

the cynic and I was forever remonstrating

with him, irked that his attitude might very

well turn people away misunderstanding

the person within the skeptic's facade yet

it was no facade and he remains to this

very day the cynic he once was. What

has changed is the loving person within

has found the courage to face the realities

of life while I become discouraged and

always in need of his smile that never

fails to meet my face turned toward him. 

He pleases me so. In our tight clasp of

one another we have grown old together

with grace and thanksgiving. And though

we are decidedly reserved, it has become

his view of others that empathy is an

emotion to bring to the service of those

whose circumstances demand it. And so

I witness time and again his gruff voice

soft, his arms so accustomed to encircling 

me, hugging others reeling from wretched 

blows of fate; an elderly woman bereft of

her dog's companionship, a wan neighbour 

whose health has noticeably deteriorated

a confused child briefly separated  from a 

parent, the presence of animals, insects 

and birds gently moved from areas of traffic 

to natural shelter. Our intimate recognition 

of each others' characteristics has melded 

us as though we are one entity yet time and

again this man introduces me to another

facet of his being and I an suffused with

gratitude for his warm embrace of life.