1957 Poems - Poems about 1957

Surviving in this kind of weather, with a man made from chicken feather causes me to sometimes wonder, "Why does that dang fool hear thunder?" I think we'd be better off instead if that guy would come home dead....

Continue reading...

Paterson, New Jersey December 1, 1957 Amidst the *****sapien species one anonymous baby birthed: I recount one little known piece of news which one young married couple did enthuse, profusely doting on their first progeny. Amelie Beth Harris as imagined being born courtesy her only brother (thirteen plus months her junior) with one final hefty contraction her crown thrust out the birth canal and she...

Continue reading...

City life, for kids, before the onslaught of helicopter parents and mandatory parental involvement in every aspect of growing up. We played baseball, no umpires, the bases pieces of cardboard, scratched in dirt, or chalked on the pavement. Four neighborhoods abutted each other. We, the children of the game, formed teams, formed...

Continue reading...

Wham-o’s old Pluto Platter, gets a brand-new name. Fred and Ethel say farewell, Dick Clarke gets his fame. The Cat in the Hat is born, Bogie has moved on. Hurricane Audrey rages, while Paul meets with John. Sputnik said that space is now, the brand new frontier. Russia’s I. C. B. M makes, their intentions clear. Four hundred officials killed, by Vietcong hands. Elvis starts his life behind, the walls...

Continue reading...

It was 50 degrees in Carrolton the moment I took my first breath of air At 8:40 PM he slapped my ass Dr. Smith said to mom, “well lookie there” It’s a boy to add to your collection of crying kids that will need to be fed Mama took one look and with a big smile “well now I do declare”...

Continue reading...

in the fifties, back in my school days, we hid under desks anticipating the nuclear bomb we thought Russians were sending not all of our body fit under there, but we still had to do it Because if that bomb was coming, we wanted to be ready...

Continue reading...

What kind of car is that? My eleven grandchildren scream. It has driven by slowly, and it is my childhood dream. a 1957 Chevy, sleek, black, full of chrome, I say. Coveting the red leather seats as it drives slowly away. It doesn’t look like any contraption we have ever seen! I know this is true, I wave to the...

Continue reading...

Mythical wizard hag sits on her haughty throne Who is she? Some whisper, perhaps thinking crone. Magical and mystical, she is rarely sitting alone. Her power animals surround her, hoping for a bone. She gets to make all their decisions, she is in charge. Her ideas and ideals are incredibly worthy and large. We know her as grandma, our grandpa calls...

Continue reading...

Christmas catalog 1957 We fought over it, It was our way to heaven Dreaming of this, that and the other. Arguing until we were separated by our mother We circled the things we wanted, we two, The whole toy catalog was circled when we were through Christmas catalog 1957, it was a step closer to Christmas heaven….....

Continue reading...

Dancing and hopping in a robin-like way The medium sized bird gives happiness a swift play I watch him in wonder, loving his tweet tweet tweet He looks like a rock-and-roll dancer, he’s simply up beat. The song from my childhood comes quickly to mind As I see this darling birdie, he is so clever and kind. Rock’n’Robbin sung in 1957...

Continue reading...

Biological parents minted circa December 1st, 1957 Amelie Beth Harris fresh out womb blurted "ahoy" melded as genetic deoxynucleic acid alloy awkward first time parents natural affection did employ Boyce and Harriet Harris shed tears of joy, and feted yearly birthdays, thus much appreciation ye did buoy bestowed unconditional love, thus tis impossible mission to compensate, thus thank... oh boy so much financial, emotional debt I Cain never be Abel...

Continue reading...

amidst cavorting delightfully, enjoying thorough frolicking gingerly, foreign hick hating slo hip-hopping insouciantly sustaining row biological status quo kvetching lamely moreso mother became pro naturally physically rumbling, heard all the way in Oslo supposedly twerking, undulating vivaciously wantonly x2c wisely yielded – nada no zona pellucida anchored byte size seaman, potent embryonic...

Continue reading...

Me. Unique, Strong, Fragile old girl, gentle questioner, unshakeable hand, Curious eye, quiet ear....

Continue reading...

The reading of Villon poems at West Berlin’s Free University, Winter Semester 1957-58 for Fleur Adcock (b. February 10, 1934) The hall was packed full, and the audience seemed particularly restless....

Continue reading...

I had just left the Fairgrounds Race Track with my dad, where I won $13.00 on a nag whose name I forget and Dad won nothing, which mattered not since his goal was to 'celebrate' the night with his Candy Apple Red....newly bored out 1957 Chevrolet Corvette by timing it, while crossing Lake Pontchartrain's...

Continue reading...