Even Flower Children Die

40 years ago, we were Jews
wandering in the desert of our youth,
we had no Moses to lead us,
to part the path through water,
no land in sight from where
the dove with olive branch
could descend

we were child-like,
children bearing
daises and bayonets
peace signs and arrogance
on the way to Cleveland
New York and California,

we are finally
growing up
one last time.

— Kailashana, May 22, 2008

About This Poem

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Critiques

Barbara Writes

18 years ago

really good

Smiles:) Barbara i thought the image was was clearly seen and the flow was good

weirdelf

18 years ago

We are all dis-enfranchised

Not just the jews. The celtic people were raped spiritually by aggressive middle-eastern religions. Judaeisn, Christianity, Islam. Not much difference between them. We take what we choose, but make the choice of of exclusion if we are stupid. cheers, Jess

Kailashana

18 years ago

Thank you Barb..just a

Thank you Barb..just a thought that floated yesterday. Jess, I appreciate your take on the poem; however, my poem had nothing to do with that aspect of being spiritually raped. It was addressing a time and a generation. I used the symbols that almost all have, regardless of religious backgrounds. In my opinion, working the last few days in a part of town that is primarily Jewish, I was once again cognizant of this fact: by the very nature of our birth, we *subject* our children to our belief systems. Jew, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Scientology, Buddhist etc. etc. That is both sad and can be liberating.. ~Anna

barbsdad2003

18 years ago

Oh, yes ...

Anna, your comment summation of "That is both sad and can be liberating" reveals a flexibility of mind and a plain willingness to hold valid both sides of what to many would otherwise appear a contradiction. Both your writings and your comments spring from a tough-as-nails (and, I suspect, a well-earned) maturity. Refreshing! Thanx, Chuck PS: Sorry if I appear a mite patronizing here. It's not my intent.

weirdelf

18 years ago

my bad

I openly accept when I mis-interpret. it happens. I do it so often I wonder why anyone reads my comments. I just try to understand, in Marshal McLuhan's terms poetry is the hottest media there is, we must work to engage. And I frequently fuck up. cheers, Jess

Kailashana

18 years ago

Hi Jess, you did not *fuck

Hi Jess, you did not *fuck up* perhaps I did, just the term "spiritual rape" a tad too strong for my delicate sensibilities (LOL!) because, as you see, I was also alluding to religion as being *forced* upon one's children... you spoke of it as *forced* onto a peoples.. And I always read the comments. That's the second *helping* of the poem, as it were.. ;-) Hugs, Anna