Poetic prose/prosaic poetry

[*Lissa*]

Another poem I've decided to share with you. Hope you like it. Maybe like is the wrong word - hope you find it thought-provoking.

Children in exile

Once we lived in a land of happiness and unending joy.
Life was easy and love was all we knew. Love was all around, in abundance.
There was sunlight, green meadows and eternal sunsets by the sea.
The days were long and full of games, music and laughter.
At night the sky was filled with stars, watching over us. Keeping us safe.
We knew of no fear. No anger. No pain.
We were safe, protected from darkness.
We thought this would last forever.

Then came the men with dark hands
Eyes that spewed pain, voices like thunder
They stole us away from our beloved foreverland
Burned the meadows, shattered the dreams
Tore apart the music
From that day, darkness had descended
Safety was no more
They put out the stars
And we were on our own

Children lost in the night
Learning to live without love
To care for ourselves
Many of us couldn’t
They died; walked into the sea never to return
The men would come and read us their names
Foretell our futures
We were all destined to die
It was a plan; no one would live to tell the story of before
Happiness and love were threats to them
Holocaust of love

We vowed to remember
The memories would live on without us
We told stories, sang songs
Sent them out into the world on our breaths
Knowledge cannot be burned
Love will live on
And one day...it will conquer the pain and hatred
Light the stars once more
One day...
Our children or our children’s children
Will live in a world of freedom
One day...
Some day

© Lisa Isaksson, nineteen ninety-nine

[Vanna]

:hugon Lisa :hugoff

First off, I would like to again express my awe for your talent. Please continue to share your beautiful words with us. You are so
VERY talented.

OK. Now for my thoughts (by the way this was very thought-provoking)...I actually have several interpretations.

:stars ONE :stars - I don't know what your religious beliefs are but since you sign your posts with Blessed Be, I assume that you are Wiccan. I don't know a lot about Wicca (I studied it for a year by reading about twenty books but I had no real teacher) but what you have written immediately made me think of my own beliefs.

I believe that the pain and suffering of humans is because of our seperation from the Gods/Goddess'. In human form we forget the wonder of the afterlife...which I consider to be a rich, beautiful land of love, laughter and happiness. We are reincarnated and have to come and live again to learn whatever lesson is needed. We sometimes feel such sorrow because we know that we are longing for something but as human's we can't remember what that is. So our souls go from this "heaven" to the horrors of earth...where we feel pain and we see death and even die ourselves. We must remember these trials to learn our life lessons...so that one day we will no longer need to come to this earth, for we will have learned all we need to know. Then we can remain in the "forever land" for all eternity.

Sorry, I probably sound like a raging lunatic there...OK. Next interpretation.

:stars TWO :stars The second time I read your poem I thought about all persecuted ethnic groups. In particular the Jews and African Americans, both were ripped from their homes and happiness.

Then came the men with dark hands
Eyes that spewed pain, voices like thunder
They stole us away from our beloved foreverland

That part in particular made me think of the Holocaust. When I thought about your poem in this way, it gave me chills and the imagery seemed to leap off the screen...but in the end it was also a feeling of hope, because as with the Holocaust victims, we have remembered their plite and through our memories we can ensure that nothing like that will ever happen again. (**hopefully**)

:stars THREE :stars I also thought of the poem in a more generic form, like, that as adults, we are all "children in exile". As children, some of us had no worries. We didn't have to think about the horrible world that surrounded us. We laughed and played, everything was beautiful. Then we grew up...people hurt us...people died..the stars didn't shine as bright as before and the moon stopped following us. I think that the early part of our adulthood is so difficult because we are adjusting to this realization that we a mortal. We will die and there is nothing that we can do to stop that. I think it is later in life that we learn to live the best we can, to make the most of our brief time here. We pass on the wisdom of our years to our children and grandchildren (or whoever) and hope that they learn these lessons far quicker than we did. I feel that it is through these memories, we give the next generation that ensures we will live on far after death.

Whew! Sorry this was so long. If I read it again I am sure that I would come to a different conclusion. To me the sign of a truly gifted writer is that you can read their work a thousand times and still take something different away from it each reading.

You definitely have that gift.

Take care,
Grace

[*Lissa*]

:hugonGracey:hugoff

I was honestly chilled to the bone on reading your reply and interpretation of my poem, and I'll try to give feedback on what you said. To tell you the truth, it rang very clear to me, but seeing that I believe that a text is only in part its writer and needs a reader to come into its full life, the interpreter cannot be wrong. Having said that, I am of course very honoured to see that you were affected by my words, and in similar ways as I was on re-reading them. It's interesting to go back to things written some time back, especially with as much in retrospect as I have had over those three years.

ONE: You are right, I do count myself to having a belief similar to Wiccan, although I haven't even studied it as much as you have. At the time of writing "Children in exile" I didn't even know about wiccan, it was just the way I believed. Maybe that's how belief works; no need to read about it, what's there is just there. I do believe in some holistic sense of general belonging, and that is what we ultimately strive for, regardless of whether we call it Paradise or Nirvana. I believe that if we allowed ourselves to be in touch with nature, with the fundaments, we could touch upon the divine in us and in all that is around us. (Btw, you do not sound like a raving lunatic)

TWO: The Holocaust theme occurred to me, too, when I last reread it, and I have to admit that it is a powerful theme for me, in my thoughts, my creative endeavours and in my dreams. And it is not only the Holocaust of WW II, but of every people ever driven from their home. That includes the inevitable loss of our childhood's countries, doesn't it?

THREE: Childhood is often described as a lost state of innocence, of happiness, and although I cannot claim to have been a happily ignorant child, I am in search of the very same state of mind. I think we all are. We search for a simpler world than what we have now. The stars were brighter, and closer, before we learned that they are lightyears away, and obscured by pollution. Before our eyes were dimmed by knowledge. But the hope you read into the poem is also in you; for as long as we remember, and believe in, happiness, it will exist. The freedom inside can never be taken away from you.

Gracey, this was long, but I felt that I wanted to respond to your thoughts in earnest. Hope you managed to get through my ramblings :winky

[Vanna]

:hugon Lisa :hugoff

Thank you for your response. I truly believe that you are a very gifted writer and I worry that my replies don't do justice to your work. Please continue to share your gift with us.

Take care,
Grace

[rowgirl]

:hugon Lissa :hugoff

That is very thought provoking :winky