Beatnik Poems - Poems about Beatnik

they are beatnik cats, their house is a bit much I was told. Their colors were all warm – purples, reds, pinks, all bold. I love it here I said, sitting down in a cozy sixties beatnik chair. Of course, by the time I left my rear end was full of cat hair....

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they are beatnik cats, their house is a bit much I was told. Their colors were all warm – purples, reds, pinks, all bold. I love it here I said, sitting down in a cozy sixties beatnik chair. Of course, by the time I left my rear end was full of cat hair....

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The cow waltzes around the lamp post three times MOOOO! Cow’s milk Mother’s milk The milk of human kindness Why did you not love me mother? Why did you demean me father? Why does dusk’s fading aura not bid me good night? The cow tangos around the lamp post four times and weeps...

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Lee is a beatnik all right, the seventy year olds agreed he was lying in the grass, playing bongos next to his weed as chill as we had ever seen Maynard on Dobie Gillis too We was singing a weird slow song, name I had no clue what do we do with him? someone wanted to know Do we ask...

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jay is different than he has ever been a neatnik of course, and he is my twin. whereas I am a beatnik, messy and thin. he is a cleaner, a duster, no dirt on his chin. I am slovenly, a messy hoarder, a collector, a slob. my dungarees are usually filthy, rolled up in a glob. no one is dirtier...

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Jazzy Cat was playing the beatnik cat blues. He has lost so much, what else does he have to lose? There were many comments, about his granny glasses’ hues. Straight out of the sixties, he was yesterday’s news....

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Beatnik Charley had glowing fingers of soul When they began tapping a beat, there was never a goal. They understood people, and had them dancing around. He had a unique way of drumming. An incredible sound! Beatnik Charley brought in women all over New York. Many were vegetarians, other smelled totally of pork. They were his groupies, loving him for being who...

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Doobie Doobie Doobie Doobie Doobie Doobie Do. You can’t get my goat, I am one of a few. I’m mellow and fun-loving, and money don’t run me. I had a nap all day yesterday ‘til a quarter until three. Doobie Doobie Doobie Doobie Doobie Doobie Day. I am a beatnik from down New Orleans way. I don’t have a penny and...

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The cow waltzes around The lamp post three times MOOOO! Cow’s milk Mother’s milk The milk of human kindness Why weren’t you kind To me mother? Why were you cruel To me father? Why did you warp my soul? The cow tangos around The lamp post four times And weeps 12/22/21...

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While reading Charles Bukowski poetry? On the metro ride home? Listening to Buddha bar music? On my oh too hip iPod? I begin to see myself as I was? Over 30 years ago when I was merely a bit player? A minor character in a Charles Bukowski poem? A wild young underemployed...

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Beatnik, hippie, free spirit, oh my. Enjoying their bliss with barely a sigh. Full of great fun Enjoying the sun I like all of them with barely a try...

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Pale white against the ghostly fog Smoke curled for lack of oxygen Black rim glasses hide, head bows Conceal eyes of cool cat daddy-o In dark, goatee, groomed and moody Beret tilted silhouetted, covers identity Captures blues wrapped in a sax Brown paper bags cover booze Jazz releases notes unknown to claps Fingers snap approval to the poets silence Something to be...

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Do you remember the Beatnik generation? Those angry young men with long hair You could see them playing a guitar in a station Strumming and singing without a care Where are they now, that lost generation? Now, the new generation by comparison Singing platitudes, a yuppy sensation Tame, well groomed, without passion Looking back, I was a beatnik teen Now I am part of...

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Beatnik Snaps Onomatopoeia-topia (poet sits on a stool in the café and begins) I could onomatopoeia all day daddio With cool sounds in the iambic pandemics sphere out there. “Far out man…far out… Onomatopoeia all the way” (The crowd shouts and snaps fingers in approval.) On the down winds jive below slow jazz notes...

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(10/13/12) At the beginning of “64” - I packed up my uniform And walked out the door- it was the beginning of The Vietnam war. By August of that same year President Johnson started the draft Under protests and jeers. Then he made it a full scale war And sent our soldiers to Vietnam shores. The Beatniks in Greenwich village With their long hair,...

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