Best 1968 Poems
August 28th 1968*
Written: by Tom Wright
3/20/2014
Without joy I faced a mountainous rise,
A pale rider had entry into my day.
Sitting astride, the specter of my demise,
No longer, my concerns, could I allay.
But from uplifted prayer, an answer,
Descended not as an eminent surprise;
I was jolted by news that it was cancer
By the Holy Spirit, God did baptize.
Straightaway from that earlier mount,
Came sudden alterations to my life.
The pale rider was dropped for the count,
God’s unseen hand controlled the knife.
*The day that I committed my life to Jesus
Had Cancer at age 28
Alive today at 75
Praise God
I still have dreams of my favorite car
It took me to places not really far
On some days it would not start
One day it just fell apart
So few moments we were on par
30,000 Lt. Calleys - LEST WE FORGET
The My Lai Massacre - 1968
There's a sound in the dark
of a shot to its' mark
and it's ended a dream for good
for a boy in his prime
who's run out of his time
and he dies from words mis-understood.
There's a girl putting out
it's what her life's about,
and the only way she can survive,
but she gave all she could
more than anyone should,
then she's wasted, because she's not alive.
It's the land of the dead
and it' s pumped in their head,
anyone looking cross-eyed must die,
it's a license to kill,
you can bet that they will,
in the flash and the blink of an eye.
It's the dark. It's the cold.
It's the growing too old
It's the leaving of loved ones behind
to a peace never found
and a war all around,
though it's not any war they can find.
© 1995 ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
MLK...
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)
they shot you down
all those years ago
but
your dream lives on
and always will
for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
your dream
there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for
and much, much more
to fight for still
so
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
that
we shall overcome
someday...
(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)
DA NANG, 1968: THE DANCE OF DEATH
That night I watched the muted flashes
Reflected off low somber clouds
And heard the muted rumble
Of distant artillery
As if a storm were approaching.
And I knew that somewhere
In the jungled hills out there
Uniformed figures flailed the air
In grotesque dances of death
Engulfed by flames
Shredded by shrapnel.
While I, weary beyond caring
Thought only of blessed sleep
Perhaps tomorrow or the days after that
I too would dance the dance of death
And then could rest forever.
Pa! the soldier come! with
gum and money and big big fun!
they like my aoi dai (dress) and
long black hair,
Pa! I meet fella, stripe on arm,
big heart, big dollar and home have
farm;
Pa! he want take me to mountain far,
Yes! OK?...Oh thank you Pa!
..................
Pa! I have baby now and fella gone...
I come home soon to village I can?
Yes? OK! thank you Pa!
Pa?... where you and sister and little Phu?
where Ma and friends and people too?
where the songbird breezy sing, where
the mill and rice and fish?
Pa! there is no song, no bird no fish,
all you gone I know not where,
only here a single path and grass so
stained by bone and death;
Oh Pa! Pa! Pa!
After all the years, what’s left
are names. Fasnet in Emmendingen,
weekend Bummeln with an upturned
thumb. Breisach imperially sealed
to the Habsburgs, still guarding
a foggy Rhein To Bagersee, how many
stops along the Strassenbahn. Ganterbier
and Kaiserstuhl, Totenkopf’s volcanic
crown. He snapped my picture
in a stubblefield of Drachenzähne
from the last world war. Schwarzwald
Sundays, the path to Wendelin,
patron of shepherds, a saint enshrined
in birdsong.. Bodensee. That trek
up Schauinsland to look for
Switzerland. Donaueschingen
promising 1700 miles of Danube,
a waltz to the Black Sea we never
sailed. Thousands of years of names.
Every name to call but his.
It was a long and turbulent year
Beset with death, war and crime.
Oh! Where do we journey from here?
Alas, a New Year begins its chimes.
Last January misfortune began
North Korea captured the Pueblo ship
While Americans soldiers died in Vietnam
The Hippies embraced the LSD trip.
Chaos and dissent forged its plans
When February embraced the year
With death from khe sang in Vietnam
American widows shed their tears.
March was a month of political storm
As L.B.J. gave a farewell speech
Kennedy's campaign in this month was born
As 500 americans died in Nam each week
April, April! Why did you come?
Riots and hatred to your month belong
April, April You've finally gone
You have taken Martin to his eternal kingdom
Resurrection City enveloped May
A bloody winter lapsed to a Silent Spring
most everyone mourning Martin,s grave
What more anquish can this year bring?
June has arrived and consumed with tears
Oh! Where, Oh Where has Bobby gone?
Another disaster has come this year
Is the darkest hour before the dawn?
Hunger in Biafra envelop July
preppies and youth embrace the Pill
We 'll find peace, if we try
alas in Nam there is more to kill.
August so sad, no end in sight
Chicago's the place for riots and tears
When will the sun shatter the night?
What more can happen this fateful year?
Melancholy breezed through September
The turbulent Summer has finally past
Humanity will long remember
The blood,sweat and tears, which had been cast.
October was a month for prosperity and peace
Our Astronauts exploring space
Jackie Kennedy wed a man from Greece
Laurels for U.S. Olympians achieving !st Place.
November arrived, the moon shining bright
President Nixon will rule the nation
The year long storm fading with the night
As a New Year waits in anticipation
December calmly found it's place
North Korea returned the Pueblo Ship
American astronauts soaring into space
landing on the moon at a record pace
Farewell,farewell 1968
Your year has succumbed to the past
The yearlong storm we'll soon forsake
The tears and death for which you cast.
The earth revolves around the sun
America,America forever lives on
It's a time of peace for everyone
as we embrace a New Year's dawn.
Circa February 28th, 1968 - The Former Leiper Estate
Soon after our family settled
into the sprawling estate
named "Glen Elm" approximate
half century old from date
mentioned in title, said treasure
rosy Gypsy foretold fate
Harriet Harris, (daughter
of Antebellum Rebecca great
Kuritsky - Brooklyn transplanted
Southern Belle), create
head "FAKE" story, whereby
former did absquatulate
with jack of all trades (Boyce
Brandon Harris) too late
above named ramshackle
mansion, they remained mate
to each other til death did
thee mum part, congratulate
sans, her high school chums
felt envious - girls did rate
papa (now octogenarian widower)
most handsome (master) bait,
whose smarts earning advanced
degree applying his pate
as mechanical engineer for
General Electric did satiate
penchant solving complex
mathematical equations tete
a tete for super intelligent
entrepreneurial fella alleviate
head real passion rehabilitating
derelict property, allocate
ting leisure time resuscitating
neglected homes ameliorate
head procreative itch practically
rebuilding this did animate
dad's profuse true calling
spending hours fame did anticipate
(though papa quite modest,
and other people gushed appreciate
ting self taught revitalizing
unseen hidden gem and to articulate
unique artistic flair himself
as taskmaster masterpieces intimate
ting creations nobody, but
himself could imagine brilliance pate
drew forth unbelievable
enhancements doppelganger did berate
rarely could family, friends,
strangers...do more than capitulate
with ceaseless praise always
adding final touches to captivate
most flattering aura, charisma,
karma (credit) perfectly calibrate
head aesthetic qualities even
shabbiest building communicate
ting magic touch of, who plied
blood, sweat and tears culminate
ting in unbelievable transformation
particularly, how to designate
ideal amount of appeal to abode
came to screeching halt dissipate
head after mum passed, and papa's
raw talent earned thru educate
ting himself, no amount of inborn
inherent blueprints did illustrate
native bent, BUT no new life could
resurrect demise of his queen soulmate!
"Wah-hoo-wah!"
said the 'bro,'
"Let's head toward
Fraternity Row."
The Library bells
toll ding-dong,
Drunken brothers
play beer-pong;
All through the night
play and drink,
By dawn of day,
their breath stinks.
Men of Darmouth,
give a rouse!
Party hearty
and carouse.
From every window
music blasting,
Led Zeppelin screaming
lyrics everlasting.
But, hey, poor freshman, if you feel left out,
Don't hang around your dorm and pout;
Lack of coeds needs a fix, sir?
Here's the recommended elixir:
Tonight's big Freshman Mixer!
So many girls there on parade--
None of whom wants to be an 'Old Maid.'
And so it goes,
all through the year,
Mechanical sex,
fueled by stale beer.
Debauched, promiscuous
four-year journey:
At whose end
you're ready to be,
quite miracululously--
A CPA, CEO, Physician, or Attorney!
1968
By Franklin Price
11/13/2018
The year was nineteen sixty eight, fifty years have passed since then
When I got to Vietnam, we still were there to win
Then Chinese New Year happened, Tet Offensive was its name
The regulars and Vietcong came in force to change the game
We beat them back but was for naught, back home the people spoke
The unrest and the riots were far from any joke
The people turned against the war, and were marching to the beat
The casualties began to mount, in Vietnam and on our streets
Draft cards and our precious flag were burning every day
Soldiers being spat upon when they came home to stay
Radicals ran rampant. It wasn't looking very good.
MLK and RFK were shot down where they stood
Solidarity Day, in middle June, sought freedom, jobs and peace
Thousands marched on Washington to have discrimination cease
Was also an election year and the parties were beset
The National Guard was called out. How much worse off could we get?
Near the ending of December, Apollo eight was such a boon
It left the earth and returned again, sending three men 'round the moon
I came home in January, returning on a Freedom Jet
I look back and I ask myself, “Have we gotten better yet?”
I'm waiting
for you to admit
just once
that you have never really looked into my eyes
or held my hand
or touched my cheek
I'm waiting
for you to say
just once
that our friendship has made you happy
or our thoughts shared
or our dreams
I'm waiting
for you to ask
just once
for "the privilege of the next dance"
instead of my opinion
or my help
I'm waiting
for you to say
just once
"I love you"
November 1968: The Hunted
Got divorced couple years ago, second time
At first, I mirror myself as a low-life loser
Jack without Jill, McGee without Molly
Ossie without Harriot, Adam absent Eve
No fourth finger, gold band of respectability
Instead wagging digits of family and friends
Then discover a stimulating, singles society
Connect at cocktail lounges and corner bars
dating services, social clubs, work cafeterias
commuting club cars, once at a church social
Mindlessly, I transform into a blissful bachelor
‘til a Swedish mermaid magically materializes
Attend a Singles, Saturday eve swim fest. Stand
in shoulder deep water, arms rest on side of pool
Envision my later-this-evening date with Debbie
a waitress, Embers Dinner Club; off at midnight
Suddenly, a splash surges up from the surface
Engaging eyes and a sparkling smile follow
A melodic voice sings out of a beautiful face,
body, “Hi, my name’s JoAnne, what’s yours?”
I stutter, stumble, finally mumble, “Uh, ah, Joe.”
Captivating conversation tightens a growing knot
A troubling thought thunders through my mind
“It is already too late. This one will do you in”
In three months, JoAnne re-arranges my world
I vacate my bachelor pad, move into her house
Say good-bye to Myrtle, Julie, Cindy, Debbie
Say hello to Jo’s folks: Alice, stepfather Nolan
Marry short time thereafter in their Swiss chalet
Introduce Jo to my folks during our honeymoon
Meet endless number of new Swedish relatives:
Norman, Sigurd, Don, Jim, Dorothy, Ruth, Violet
Stop wearing same smelly shirt around house
Go back to church. Take up tennis and skiing
Change jobs from Motorola, a manufacturer
to Deloitte, bigtime professional services firm
Spend entire summer scraping, painting
JoAnne’s weathered, all-wooden house
Wonder with each scrape, stroke from a
perilous ladder position; what happened
Stunned by my supersonic-speed surrender
Today, fifty years later, my head still spins
August 28, 1968
Haiku: by Tom
Cancer was the match
that set my fields on fire.
Then came God’s healing.
Special Needs Education Policy 1968
The session paper 5 of 1968, a turning point so grand,
A moment in history that improved the lives of many, a stand.
For special needs education in Kenya, it paved the way,
A brighter future for all, where everyone could learn and play.
Gone were the days, where children with special needs,
Were left behind, their futures filled with all too many weeds.
With session paper 5, came a change, a brand new start,
A path to inclusion, where every child had a place in the heart.
From classrooms to resources, the improvements were clear,
Supporting children with special needs, so they could live without fear.
With trained teachers and specialized equipment, the future was bright,
Giving children with special needs, a chance to learn and take flight.
Now, years later, we see the fruit of that session paper 5,
With schools and resources, providing the support to help them thrive.
No longer left behind, they can learn and grow,
Their futures filled with hope, where they can reach their full potential, and so.
So let us celebrate the session paper 5 of 1968,
For giving children with special needs, a brighter future, where they can all win.
A turning point in history, that made a difference, no doubt,
A brighter future for all, with improved special needs education about.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
*THE ELO’S POETRY*