“ These Ancient Children”

Hyacinth garden

East past the sea, see war on and off, like flashing red lights.

Without kindness in their eyes, see these ancient children.

Such old spirits exhuming only their ancestor’s disdain.

They are nauseous hyacinths so many wind-torn petals blasting through the air.

See how many times, a thousand times a thousand horrid hatreds.

The energy of loathing, larger than the mountains of war-strewn rubble.

Short pauses, they do not remember what fueled the first feud.

No vain hopes, no passion for beauty, no memory of spring.

So possessed see these ancient children.

We will never know, for they are already dead martyrs before they were born.

Do not call for a cease-fire; they have no insipid red rosebuds and wreaths of olive branches.

No peace, these ancient children are, just bomb blown flying pieces.

They are shaking the hand of ill fate before they breathe their first breath!

See how the pattern clings.

All killing done devoutly, a cause celebrity of insanity.

Ancient children, it is failure to spill your blood like this!

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Daniel-59's picture

I have to agree with her an

I have to agree with her an say (most) children are not born to hate they are taught in one manner or the other, And do I ever have a long list of how that would happen ...but once in awhile ones born hardwired differently .

Anyway on to the poem. reading it brought up old feelings I've had from back in the day's. As a soldier a kid with a suicide vest is your worst fear.

please god no ! Killing a child go's against everything you know .

Killing is easy , you just pull the trigger and deal with the ghosts later 

suicide bombers of any age put's fear in you and if they say it don't they're lying ..... they have something We don't, Blind Faith .

they may be the enemy and if I see them coming I will kill them .

But I respect them .to believe in something that strongly boggles my mind. I'm willing to kill for my country and family ,they're willing to die for they'res ....... I wish I could have that kind of faith in something.

but in the world I've been in and all I've seen I'm to cynical to believe in anything


A Good Read I Believe


~ DD ~


Every story-teller bends the myth to his own purpose. that's why a Hero has a thousand faces

journey_through_life's picture

Great poem. I really think you did a good job with this one. The imagery is very vivid. In one line the tenses don't match. It just happens to be the one statement I don't agree with."We will never know, for they are (were) already dead martyrs before they were born." Children are not born with hate or prejudice, they are taught.

allets's picture

Early Post

I am wowed - so much observation on war and the irony of "children". Your early stuff rocks! - :S


The notion that they were martyred before they were born is fabulously spoken. Intensifies the irony. A great concept. With your consent, I would love to take that line and write a poem around it. Wonderful image! - Stella






9inety's picture


dear reader

you have licence to improve any and all of my poor attemts at art



"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"

Dylan Eliot