The Vietnam War was on the news when I was in high school
The ones who got sent over to be fodder were from poor counties
Sons of congressmen and senators were not drafted
But other men were readily plucked up and sent over
To morbidly hot jungles full of mosquitos and the enemy
More got blown up or killed than came home intact
If they went over as an officer, they were killed by their own men
Usually in eight minutes
Why? Because if there is no officer to lead, you do not have to fight
Many of these young men were not fighters, they did not want to be soldiers
They had been involuntarily drafted, with little training
If they lasted one year, they could return. Most did not make it.
in the seventies we all wanted to look like Farrah Fawcett of course
She was a gorgeous blonde actress, her smile was a heavenly force.
We ran to the hairdressers to get the Farrah Fawcett cut.
None of us looked like her, so the cut was kind of a bust.
In the 1970’s, merry mushroom canisters were offered by Sears Roebuck
Many of us put them into our wish lists, along with a sponge-holding duck later I learned that mushrooms meant pot, but at first I did not know
I cherished these canisters for their earthy whimsy; I truly loved them so….
May 4, 1970
shots rang out
tin soldiers and Nixon’s coming
four dead in Ohio
It was the year of `Spirit in the Sky.’
I kept your picture, Irene.
Norman Greenbaum
has his own webpage now,
imagine that?
Your grainy wedding photograph
(cut at the time from a local newspaper),
has emerged again
as a yellow submarine.
Your rainbow stockings still fly
from that long-abandoned vessel,
now all we need is to peer together
from the same periscope.
Some of you, will in memory, may fondly recall.
Enchanting, colored dance floors, you all had a ball!
When women still wore stunning, gorgeous dresses,
Unafraid to wear makeup, and sport long, shiny tresses.
No, you were not vaping or drugging it up, to be cool.
You did not want to be a stoner or be the town fool,
Youeven wore pricey perfume, just to reel in a mate,
Some tall dude, with agility to dance, was to be your fate.
It was kismet, the moment you stared in a dance partner’s eyes.
You both as if floating, on air, in amorous,cloud like disguise
The lit, multi-colored dance floor, The Bee Gees music filled the room.
You looked up, and there your shiny prince stood~love musically! in bloom!
3/29/2024
I am Farrah Fawcett,
Poster on the wall.
I am a rotary phone,
When I made a call.
I am, Boss,
it’s the plane, The plane.
I am Pablo Escobar,
And his cocaine.
I am Queen with
Freddy Mercury Live.
I am the Bee Gees,
Talking that Jive.
I am vinyl, 8-tracks,
cassettes and CDs.
I am, make love not war,
And Hippies.
I am where is the beef?
Don't squeeze the Charmin.
I am Cheech and Chong
and George Carlin.
I am SNL when it
Was funny.
I am Happy Days,
And a Playboy bunny.
I am M.A.S.H. and
A metal Lunch-box.
I am clackers, tang,
And a Pet-rock.
I am American Bandstand,
Peace signs, and the twist.
I am pay-phones, pagers,
and stick-shifts.
I am, conjunction junction,
What's your function?
I am Patty Hearst and
Her abduction.
Turbo1904
Orange paisley in the seventies prancing in my mind
Twisted up with lemons and avocados, fruit colors
Also shown in mushroom canister sets and Tupperware
On equal footing stark straight black and white stripes
Proving we are in a new age with additional freedom
I thought it was the most modern we would ever be
Not realizing we would eventually have the internet
Home computers? Phones without cords? No idea.
I thought the seventies were the modern we would ever be.
!Promenade
Dancing fairies drinking lemonade
Festive Promena
Party
Hardy
People dancing
Groups of genders embracing
Passing machine
Dancing Queen
Boogie on
Dance on
Right on! Right on!
What is your sign?
People held stock in astrological birth signs in the 80’s.
Old-fashioned and way overdone now, but
if you are a voracious reader, you might
realize that there is a little something to it.
The books always nail me in the missives about
astrological signs. However, when I read
other birth signs, they also seem to apply to me.
I think this is a reflection of how much
more alike we all are than different.
I wonder sometimes what the world
would be like if we all had the same
appearance, like ants. What if the only
thing we could see as we approached
each other was our heart in the form
of wings or a halo? We could call this an aura.
pink aura for ‘likes to love people’
violet aura for ‘deeply spiritual’
green aura for ‘perpetually looking for a new start’
blue aura for ‘heart is soft, tred lightly.'
yellow aura for ‘wants to make everyone a friend'
rainbow aura for ‘gets along well with everyone'
gray aura for ‘stay away, warning! Warning! Warning (your name)!'
how different our world might be. and maybe a bit safer also,
especially for the naïve and our children.
Drifting, my excellence
Blonde air-line.
Comme ce comme sais.
Bungalow Bang
Leave my space. Richard Gere in my car.
Space-Fraud
Sickening Mercedes Benz
Woah- woah. That is.
Plastic Coke
Metal Cork. Colour the Heinz.
Lovely 1980 arrives
23 may 2013 8:36 am
Mathew Herman Vain
A child who had no name
Was killed before he was born
His cell from his kidneys was torn
Cloned and named HEK293
Those cells they use to satisfy you and me
They use it in processes to make vaccines
And process for artificial flavors obscene
He had no name as from his mother he was torn
And until now has not been officially mourned
I gave him his name so all will remember
This was a real child that science dismembered
So people can be vain
And glutony can rein
The Girls in Steno, 1970
When it’s break time
the girls all walk together,
cigarette-protector cases
clasped between their index
tapers and their thumbs.
On each girl’s fingers glow
iridescent lacquers.
When break time nears,
they peek at each other,
twinkle, giggle, nod.
When break time comes,
a bell rings and the girls rise
like Lazarus. High on heels
they click in couples down the hall
to fill an elevator.
They get off at One. There
they float across the cafeteria,
men everywhere,
eyes everywhere.
(Is he the one?)
When a new girl’s hired
the old girls
put her to the test:
Will she join them
for the coffee break?
If she does, she joins them forever,
even after she marries,
retires or expires.
Donal Mahoney
Whatever else he was, recall
He was a Bookman after all,
And at his quietest, a poet too.
Redonda…wine…the sordid rest
Ignore for now—extol his best!
For there was good in Gawsworth, as in you.
Poetry is easy, life is hard,
And so the bravest bard
Begins to buckle with the weight of brutal years—
His singing disappears.
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