I remember the green grass, leaves of the trees turning brown.
Walking down the stream not caring that gold lay at the bottom.
Fishing at the dam a stick a string and a hook loaded with bologna.
Laying Pennies on the railroad track, waiting for the train.
Walking through the junkyard enthralled by all the mangled metal.
Playing football in a field of mud after the heavy rains.
First time I had french fries, hot and salty from the golden arches.
Watching cartoons from the playground at the drive-in theater.
Free from the worries, free from the traps
of greed.
All I have left, is the grass turning green, and the leaves turning brown.
Today’s student is not like we were in the sixties.
The child never had the last word back then.
The child must always have the last word today.
Today’s teacher’s biggest problem is this….
When one student is sassy, other students chime in.
This could not have happened in the sixties.
In the sixties, in my day, the teacher was god of the class.
Usually goddess, but you get my point.
They held the whips, chains, all of the power.
We students were respectful almost a hundred percent of the time.
Those who were not, were rapidly shipped off to reform school.
A place we figured was like jail, except without food or sunlight.
In the sixties if a student had been disrespectful, we would have been silent.
Waiting for that student to be tarred, feathered, and murdered by the teacher.
Her full right, as goddess of the class.
cuckoo for Coco Puffs
Plop plop fizz fizz
bibbity bobbity boo
See the USA in a Chevrolet
Winston tastes good
Like a
Knock Knock
cigarette should
I miss the fifties and sixties
(Another way of looking at life... poem)
Stacking bricks in a builder’s yard
I was just eighteen, while my mate
was in Vietnam.
I was building for the future,
he was trying to lay the foundations.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
Giddiness pretends we love indifference
Desperation in ignorable thoughts
Status quo readies us for church and stuff
Our heads buried like the pink flumed ostrich
Having more in common with us than us
Hatred follows us around like mouse traps
Head clouds are pretty not hearing squeals
Bigotry alive more than the sixties
War? Why not? We have our assault rifles.
Dr Martin Luther King tried so hard
How many of us still remember this?
I feel he would be ashamed of us.
Come take a picture so we can pretend
Crazy out-of-sync is our new normal
Souls leaving hard and fast now to escape
Unconventional, they mocked the establishment
Clad in paisley tops and bell-bottom denim,
With a symbol hanging on necks wrists or belts -
An emblem of inverted V , the birth of protest
Where murmurs from unrest gusted through lyrics,
In Woodstock of dreams hailing Baez, Hendrix, Dylan
As flower-power’s youth signaled change…
People of the 60s wrapped in love, not Vietnam rage!
Although experimental, they rallied a quest
For oneness, for a gentler‘ Blowing in the Wind,’
They lived on the streets to ignite an ideal
Which flashed ardor illuminating hearts,
In a kinship which assuaged a decade, lost
To claim their anthem, ‘peace begins with me;’
Embracing a norm with the grace of harmonious light.
For Richard Lamoureux's People Contest
6/6/2018
Long, shaggy bangs and suntan oil
Attracting the rays through pieces of foil
Transistor radio playin' Beatles tunes
Soppin' the sunshine from morning 'til noon
Soft, summer grasses, the rabbit is loose
Teen Beat in one hand, the other one, juice
Beads of sweat but stubbornness wins
Starin' at summer through dark tinted lens
Time to go in and get dressed for the show
Iron my hair before time to go
Listen to Baez of the war
Yeah life in the 60's, we knew the score
Sit in the Westwood, feet on the chairs
An usher walks in - his flashlight, it glares
Go to the drugstore, buy paint for our face
The hippies are loose, they hang out every place
Get home for supper then head for a bath
Throw on some clothes and go over to Kath's
Get in the car and get ready to cruise
'Cause life in the 60's is makin' the news
Opposite poles drifting apart,
Trying hard to defend separation,
Opposite poles, playing cards,
Losing the game of kings and bows.
When all they did was wait to paint the streets brown,
She sat there singing the song of rains and the clown,
That would come and go like the winter bills,
Swinging and tingling as the wind blew whistles,
Reminding her of the end for her son to begin,
On a new road of pebbles and shoes,
Where he would buy and trade all the conscience within,
To build a town of the glass and blues,
Lying dreamily on the table in downtown,
Singing the song of the rains and the clown,
That played cards and drifted apart in rows,
Losing the game of kings and bows.
60s Cool
Level choppy, way cool fool,
Hand slices the air, horizontal, cruel,
{breathe, level choppy man}
Way-cool of dudes, controls the day,
If you aint cool? Depart I say,
way-of-cool doth rule,
Capisce ok …
Don Johnson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2X8D2_TaPc
I was there in the 60s threads,
we had the skin tight shirts n jeans,
keep ya warm on winters nights instead,
the pill arrived, mind blowing scenes :}
the porkupine has been,
by the quill of ethelred...
When I was a boy,
Just 8 years of age,
I saw - cities burning,
I saw - fires raging,
In the hearts of men.
When I was a boy,
Just 8 years of age,
I heard - Mothers crying,
I heard - leaders lying,
About Vietnam.
And my Mother cried,
Kennedy had died,
In some city called Dallas,
Far - far away
When I was a boy,
Just 8 years of age.
Angel bars sissy bars and banana seats
The rolling stones what a cool beat
Cronkite 6pm news telling of Kennedys death
Just a young boy i really didnt understand yet
Mother would say you kids go outside and play
Cigar box marbles jacks made my day
Saturdays came i couldnt wait
Fishin for bream boy did i stay late
One particular christmas i remember very well
A johnny seven i got that was sure swell
I knew my boyhood would soon be over
53 chevy it was my time to take over
(TWENTYNET - 60s)
LOSS OF INNOCENCE
Fab four
Psychedelic colors
LSD powered yellow submarine
Ragas and flower children
Great Society
Female Liberation
Black Power
San Francisco
State of innocence - Garden of Eden
Shake off shackles of this earth
Space race
Gagarin Armstrong
Ask not what you can do
With a man on the moon
Ask rather what happened to Camelot
And the limitless power of illusion
Serpent’s destruction of dreams
Khe-Sanh state of siege
Detroit burning
Disunited states
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck
for Nette Onclaud’s contest MAGIC OF DECADE'S MOOD
TWENTYNET - 60 s
Twentynet 60’s
Beatle mania,
squealing girls,
days of hard night.
The young, the restless,
long hair,
smoking joints.
Mind trips,
free love,
Vietnam, body bags and soldier’s disgrace.
Expressions of peace as moral decayed,
Jesus freak’s,
Slang words.
My old lady was girl friend.
My Volkswagen was beach-front home,
one more town, one more beach.
Searching for purpose, searching for goal,
saying, love you man,
we slapped the hand.
V-signs,
Meant peace!
Magic Of Decade’s mood
John Moses Freeman
counter culture
damn antidisestablishmentarianism
one, two, three, four
we won’t fight your
stinking war
social revolution
if you
can’t be
with the one you love, love the
one you’re with, flower children unite
sex, drugs
rock’n roll
Timothy Leary, acids dreams, government schemes
Brave New World, Nineteen Eighty Four
The Greening of America, Money, money, money
Hell no, I won’t go, the underground railway
Oh Canada, refuge’s heart
One small step for
man, one giant leap
for mankind
Contest: TWENTYNET
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
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