Best 1960 Poems
yellow daisy chain
Birkenstocks sandals
ukuleles play
peace sign happy face
a hippie child
1960’s
Woodstock music
pass around bong
free love flowing
bell bottoms
hip-huggers
lava lamp
flower
child
love
Quiet night.
Quiet love...
Never told.
Damn my silence.
Wish you understood.
All I am is you.
I feel such a fool...
And fools are cheap these days.
The noon air shimmers
westward on Rte. 66
like a dream waiting
It was the start of a decade not to be forgotten.
It was my growing up period. A very bad year for me
in many ways. My last year of Jr. High I was kicked out
for smoking in boy's restroom. Then a few months later
I was kicked out again in my first of high school,
smoking on school property as the Vice-Principal was
waiting for me out side of door way, as I lit up, there he
was. My dog shep died just before school started.
After those things it was a great year. Some great
TV shows were on that year, the debut of the Andy
Griffith show with good old Barney Fife as his deputy.
Then there was the Jack Benny Show, My Three Sons,
and Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp and many more.
The Pittsburt Pirates defeated the New York Yankees in
Seven games in a huge upset. The Eagles upset the
Green Bay Packers in the NFL Title Game, this was way
before the Super Bowl. Movies coming our way were
Psycho a very scary movie. David Jansen made a movie called
"Ring of Fire", where he played a Deputy Marshall overpowered by
these two escaped convicts and this girl, they took him hostage,
up into the Oregon Forest, this fire breaks out creating a lot of drama.
John F. Kennedy was elected our President, I was too young to vote for
him, but if elected again I was going to vote for him. This was before i
became a Republican, but then came November 22, 1963 changed all of that.
My friend Danny and I started our 3rd year working at the Iowa State Fair
as ticket takers on the midway. That fall him and I went to our
first sock hop at our new school East High, we didn't dance with anyone,
we went to look at the pretty girls, us being too shy to talk with them.
Our football team had a great season with a 6-2 record. They won the big
six conference and the City Championship. I really miss going to those
high school football games.
Music was starting to go downhill for me, until Chubby Checker came
out with the song "The Twist" then later came the Beach Boys and Dion
was great. Was so young in 1960 i had my whole life in front of me,
now most of it is behind me. But those were great times.
Written 8-18-11
A litany of states have we been through
and countries if one counts the past.
From eras gone we came as people who
could turn the soil and make a life at last.
We sailed from bankrupt English mines
and Irish tubers rotting in the ground,
to Ellis Island like human vines
imaging that we had found
a clement life of fruit—rock and blight
could not feed the hungry ones--
and taste the bud of ended plight,
absent ourselves from absent funds.
We knelt in fields of withered grain
and left for other nameless towns,
then westward to the siren plains
of Kansas and Dakota to put down
stakes. The Homestead Act would give us land
to raise a crop and fill the dearth
begot from living mouth-to-hand.
But as we tended rows of earth
through war and fever, Great Depression
and still birth, the land was never ours to keep;
sold off here and there as a lesson
that the suffering shall always weep
in shacks where floors are made of dirt.
But on Judgment Day we'd come to rest
with Jesus. He would vanquish all the hurt
of young disciples grown old with pain
from years of thankless labor on the land
where fathers passed the lot to sons again,
and take us up to heaven as He planned.
But as we lowered bodies in the ground
adorning graves of loved ones dead and gone
with plastic flowers we the living found
that our reward was farther on.
Part Two
From that moment onwards
Not when the fingerless muscles unclasped
the indented bones
But from that moment of knowing
from that very moment of sustenance
That day of human unbelief died unsung
And the depth of human grief buried long
bestirred a momentous song
It willed within me it were man
Some kindly soul no less
But in surfeit laid aside
The biscuits of distaste
It willed within me it were some organisation
Hurrying to the bed of despair
With the spare crumbs of conversion
The Holy Infant to succour
I willed then it were a friend
From want of excuse to teach
His fooling heart to bleat
Robbed his conscience of a treat
I willed and willed and never
In my thankless memory
Sat the image of my enemy
The fulcrum of my singular division
And when that day I delved into my depths
To find the words of irreproachable thanks
I saw you turn and stamp the light
Of my begging steps of penance
I turned, rebuffed
Should I have turned and gone
Away from the stony snarl of thanklessness
Away from all that I saw in that
One inseparable act
Away from my insurrection
From the illimitable doubt of humility
Far away from all the coquetry of cunning
No man was divided more
Between himself and self
Between life and cherished death
Astride on the unwelcome threshold of emptiness
Had I come out of dying
And yet the chained stick of fate
Was certain to unravel for me
No less, no more, the vicious sting of hate
And revived with urgency's gratitude
Twice over, reconditely, I was blessed
(Continued in Part Three)
VietNam War – TET
war
60’s
Viet Nam
youth quickly lost
Greyscale TV’s final shock and awe
Written April 28, 2019
Contest: Tetractys This Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Flipping through the pages
Skimming the dried ink
So many questions it raises
Oh, the many things I think
Who are these young faces
And where are they, today
Though they left many traces
Green, they couldn’t stay
The smell of aged paper
Nostalgia hits my nose
20th century flavor
Ketamine and blow
They wrote of their “tomorrow”
But that was yesterday
I feel a bit of sorrow
They’ve surly passed away
I compare them to myself
And ponder my demise
Tucked away on a shelf
Live all these hopeful eyes
The great Elvis Presley stole the show
When it came to music, fast and slow
Patsy Cline could sing so sweet and fine
Without a doubt, her voice would shine
Hank Williams had a son with his name
Like father, like son – they claimed fame
Ray Charles played despite being blind
His listeners knew he was one of a kind
Aretha Franklin had a voice of pure gold
It was certain that her records were sold
Jimi Hendrix’s music would travel the world
As his listeners swayed, twirled and swirled
Elvis said Orbison was the world’s greatest singer
With a three-octave voice, his voice would linger
With Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash became world renown
His vocals rebuilt faith in those who’d been beat down
Me and Bobby McGee made this lady legendary
Janis Joplin was a soul who was far from ordinary
Diana Ross played for those who loved to hear her
With a voice like an angel, she made the soul purr
Cher demonstrated what it means to believe in yourself
With confidence and guts, she’ll never be put on a shelf
Stevie Wonder made the heart feel like it has been blessed
Without a doubt, he stirred feelings the heart would attest
The Beatles, the Rolling Stones and so many other singers
Knew the meaning of giving the 60’s its assembly of swingers
I hear he's a wimner Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
May 16, 2023
With my cap on my head and my satchel in hand
I set off one day for a strange foreign land
No more for me my comfy first school
I was off to a place where REAL learning did rule
My old junior school was just down the road
Perhaps half a mile from my parent's abode
Where once I could walk there without any fuss
now the journey, for me, was by bike or by bus
That first day of 'big' school I remember so well
Standing outside to wait for the bell
They herded us first years into a big hall
where we stood looking lost to await the roll call
One after another they sorted us out
I hadn't a clue what 'twas all about
Into our classrooms we were all lead
where, for our teacher, we waited in dread
At last he arrived dressed in mortar and gown
No smile on his face, just a very stern frown
'Alright you boys', he said with a sneer
'My name is Joslin, I'm your form master this year'
He looked like a skeleton, thin and quite tall
No sense of humour did he have at all
Jack Joslin his name, but known as 'The Ripper'
His weapon of choice was a well worn gym slipper
Our bones were once strong,
Our blow was once a punch,
Our teeth's were once healthy
to munch,
Our skin didn't wrinkle in a twinkle
We didn't become old, we grew old.
We were once young,
We were once
"The beautiful and the handsome"
But for this century I don't know
what love has become.
You'll give your all and get
nothing in return.
I met your father back in 1960
during the month of November,
That moment is one to forever
remember
He was charming, wearing a
smile with his cowboy's hat.
That time he couldn't afford a bike
But then 'True Love' was worth
more than fancy cars.
He steps closer and said;
You're the most beautiful woman
I've ever seen,
Those words took my heart
to places its never been.
We were once young,
Truth be told, true love never
get old.
Olajire Damilola Muyideen
(SmilingPen)
© Copyright owner
IG - smiling_pen
Milky Galaxy
Heavenly Bodies
Astronaut Training
Space Exploration
Glenn, Scott, Carpenter
60’s Space Race
Explore Cosmos
Land On The Moon
Favorite Martian
Aliens
George Jetson
Lost In Space
Moon
Part Three
Did you not notice then
How uneasy I was in the eye of abundance
How hiding from the surfeit of joy
From whose very object I
Learned not to cry
And so all through with fear
Fear opening fresh fear
Without respite, without cause
Deft day handling stolen night
Within the walls of our breath
Smarting, whining
Nudging through illusory pretences
Waking and making our presence
Forever shy of ourselves
As if all this were not true
Heart closing on heart
Excreting gratitude
You have done your part
What more could I ask
Could you then blame me that I fought
Every step of your way to me
For what I was worth to you
I was ready as a knave to soot
And when indeed you took a man
You took to bed a goon not a man
Though we account for ourselves
and whatever we have accounted for
We do not take ourselves apart
and when we have to account for ourselves
between you and me
Then what we have to account for is three
You, the goon, and the man or me
But when we have nothing to account for
There is but one lonesome count
And so you came to me
A thwarted child
and you told me
"You .... Me"
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 1957 (from Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: Rayirath Publications, 1961.) Rev. 2012.
Famine Foretold
(Stalin, 1930, 30 million, and Mao Tse Tung 1960, 42 million, et al)
The land is the lord of men who live
Near yellow and lime-green fields,
Who plant it and till it and gladly give
All their toil, for crops it yields.
Dictators forced them to the modern way,
Profaning ancestral farms,
The land did avenge itself one day
With the prophesied, ancient harms.
October 1 is here again
But this time, my darling country Nigeria
Clocked 57, what an era....... !
We celebrate with imaginary loud trumpets
With our minds, we imagine Joy and merry
No heart felt big smiles and hugs amongst Nigerians
But still we jubilate with our leaders whom we hate
They smile at us but continually create that which make us hurt
It's safe to say we have the most poorly living '57 years old humans'
here in Nigeria my country, incidentally she's 57 today, October 1, 2017.
Numerous God given brilliant feasible ideas now in cemetery
Most of our future leaders back bones are broken by our present leaders
Now she's staggering and I could tell she needs a walking stick ,only at 57.
Leaves me to wonder what she would need to walk at 67 ......
The old-fools ( Àgbà-ìyà ) that call themselves leaders of today
Loot immensely, talk deceptively, walk freely and still hope to make heaven
Lo and behold she's getting old but still in crèche in her state of mind
But why feeling old when there are nations over 500 years of age
It's not up to a Century for us as Nigerians yet but we glow in Penury
Yet we are colossally blessed with natural nutrients and man-power
Corruption and Greed could be mistaken for our 'motto' as a nation
Which keeps eating deep into our beings and our unformed embryo,
as we youths watch-on and learn subconsciously the trend of
Greed and Corruption...!!!
barely-Happy Independence Day Nigeria
Are you truly independent ???
1/10/2017