Best 1969 Poems
An all-but-empty Interstate stretches
straight, streaking horizon to horizon:
it is a ribbon with no bow, wrapping
northern Nevada.
The eye fixes
on absent fences, looks for limits,
scans scenery overwhelmed by sky.
I cock my thumb to beg a ride;
a tear forms at the corner of my eye.
"Damn wind!"
I mutter, half believing the lie.
A dusty pickup rolls toward me
then accelerates, leaves me staring.
It dwindles into distance. -- "OK!",
I snarl.
I kick a rock, pick up my pack
and start to walk, left thumb poked
out to nothing.
Someone will stop.
Two cars speed by; I wave to them.
My belly rumbles and I count
the steps I take. My wet eyes ache.
Someone will stop.
Or won't.
The alarm clock sang out, my dad jumps up
rushes me into the kitchen, today my love
is indeed, a very special day for you, my eyes
wide shut, as he continued, explaining civil rights
Cramming memories, into my little head I mean
I'd remember sitting, on my Nona's lap as,
Martin Luther King was killed in Birmingham
my entire family, regressed into deep sadness
Aging over night perhaps, so did I ,our last names
were Parks and King, let me tell you, during the
60's in Chicago, if a riot broke out our names,
were instantly called, over tornado speakers
Sound off Mohammed speaks, we were rushed
into dark sedans, being slowly driven down,
Roosevelt road this was 1969 first grade
I was preparing, to visit Lincoln's home,
and tomb mom combed, through my curl's,
my grandmother ,rubbed Vaseline on my face elbows,
and knees ,this big fuss over me, I was actually named
after Martins daughter, well Miss. Yolanda king
you get to sing, on the steps of Lincoln's memorial,
Marian Anderson's hymn, sometimes I feel like a
motherless child, afterwards the Supreme Court Justice,
we were mourning ,with happy tears, these brown face's
doting on me, five generations in my mist
standing in line, to give me a big kiss
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Two National League teams departed New York City
when the Dodgers and Giants left the vicinity.
Both teams went to California out on the West Coast.
The Big Apple was without a National League host.
An expansion four years later brought another team.
Newspaper editor Joan Payson fulfilled a dream.
Again, New Yorkers could see a National League game.
A new team came to town, and the “Mets” was the team’s name.
With uniforms of Giants orange and Dodgers blue,
they took the Polo Grounds field in 1962.
Many New York baseball fans had shown their loyalty
despite the Mets’ new record for mediocrity.
Winning only forty games and finishing dead last,
the Mets were able to expunge the ghosts from the past.
Again having a team in each league was a reason
for joy and happiness in New York that first season.
They moved to Shea Stadium in 1964.
However, their losing ways continued a bit more.
The Mets’ performance each season did not look too fine.
They lost for seven straight years to 1969.
However, all the Mets fans would get a big surprise.
The team played quite well. The fans could not believe their eyes!
Just past mid-season, they were standing in second place.
The Mets won games, and were moving at a torrid pace.
They soon caught and passed the first-place team from Chicago.
The Mets stayed in first place with just a few weeks to go.
Their pitching staff had Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman,
they also had Gary Gentry and Nolan Ryan.
The Mets best hitters, Cleon Jones and Tommie Agee,
were joined by Ed Charles, Donn Clendenon, and Art Shamsky.
Together, they all formed a winning combination.
A pennant and World Series win brought more elation!
a travel nightmare to remember
at age sixteen on a charter plane
to Colombia with the abusive boy friend
ten years older and few worlds of spanish
to meet my future as he put his hooks
and demands at my tender age of fourteen
on the return by myself with a broad view
flying to cartagena for the stop over to refueled
I left the plane and dreamt sitting on a bench
only to realize the flight continued without me
my passport luggage and money left behind
in the front pocket of trustworthy in my seat
Paris far away I started singing in the airport
se va el caiman se va para baranquilla and what to do
scared an hostess at the counter took pity
spend the night at my house was the offer
and will figure it tomorrow and so I shared a bed with tree children
It was sweaty not a breeze felt from the ventilator of heart pounding
but the next day was to enter a plane with the pilots in the cockpit
hidden to reach Miami to meet the group as few words tells a lots
in dire time my spanish improved a conversation of thank you
as I run the circular corridors to catch a plane to Brussels and then a train
My group seeing me missing got my luggage passport but lost the money
and so thankful to be fluent in spanish and the boyfriend got rid off
To replace - my cost of my call
I made this big card, special
for my sweet heart's, with all
my love, I do scribe for you...
Valentine's Day is special for a few
sending my love on our special day,
is so very difficult for me to do
for our Valentine's doesn't come any
sweeter or nicer than you...
Here in Nam it’s hard to bare,
too, share my missing you
a phone just won’t do I fear
So too…
I made this bag card, special,
my sweetest heart's, all of you
with all my love reserved
you’ll receive my card it's true
All, with my 'red imprint' of
my lips, for what I’d rather do
I have scribbled Michelle,
Angela, Mom too...
A clever poem for all my love
you all, along with this cleaver
Red "two lips"
Instead of flowers
Minds slowly die with the
Draft from an open door,
And out they creep to see
If the current of air
Is stale.
monkey
playful friend
from Viet Nam
sent by loving soldier
60's
I’m riding shotgun in her car
as we drive through the night
neath Neil Armstrong’s moon
radio plays that Animal’s song
but San Francisco's almost as
far from this humid Oklahoma
night as Neil Armstrong’s cold
moon yet maybe I’ll get
past second base tonight.
JULY 1969 – Moon landing
There are no wolves
Astir tonight
To chill our fireside man
The wolves are gone
Are northward gone
From a disenchanted land
From where Maid Moon
Who winked at dreams
Has lost her apple eyes
Oh, someone’s plucked
The saucy dish
From out a virgin sky
Her lover’s cool
Bacterial breath
Has blued the Maid’s gold cheeks
-
And wolves are gone
To howl for her
From woods and mountain peaks
“My Cousin Joan’s going to let Danny stay with her in Toronto, Honey.”
“Toronto? What the holy hell are you talkin’ about, June? Danny’s just finished college. He’s not going anywhere. What--he’s a draft dodger now?"
“It’s all arranged, Sam. Our son’s going to be drafted. He’ll be sent to Viet Nam. He might get himself killed!"
“Damn it all to hell! I raised a draft dodger. He’s going to be some pot head hippy in Canada. Over my dead body he is! Did that pansy friend of his, Lester-that long-haired loser brainwash him? What’s going on here?”
“Don’t scream at me, Honey. It’s his decision. His lottery number’s 38. The cut-off was 100!"
“He can get the holy hell out of this house and never come back, as far as I’m concerned, that commie coward!”
“Stop, Sam, please. You’ll wake up Bobby. You’ll scare him."
“Let Bobby wake up! Let him learn what a loser his brother is. And what are you crying about?"
“It’s the holidays. All the Christmas songs and the lights. This ruins everything. I feel ill!”
“Then Merry Christmas—Feel better now?”
12/9/22
THIRD RUNNER UP!
Dialogue Proficiency Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Flowers, flowers, flowers.
Man with all his powers.
Flowers, flowers, flowers.
Lost in my youth coming from this old vinyl
groovin the grooves and riding the vibes
that take me back to
1969
Black lights, a strobe or two,
share some smoke between me and you
back to when, hair was in
her hip huggers, my bell bottom jeans
and we know what groovin means
Puffed up hair, never square
peace was love and love was peace
and war was across the water
When you were fresh and I was lost in you
I close my eyes and I realize
1969
until the music stops
and drops me back to now
Flip the disc, and wish
your worries away for at least until side B is thru
download no mp3 for me
no blue tooth
ever since my youth
vinyl is final
You say look at this crazy old fool
lost in the past
oh how I wish it would last
1969
a time when I was yours and you were mine
hip huggers and bell bottom jeans
and we know what groovin means
tmc
Matthew Perry, American series. »Friends » 1969 2023
Bye, Bye, Chandler Bing,
You were the good friend,
Always ready to make you laugh,
You were Monica’s friend,
In the American series «Friends»
You will never grow old,
Your departure is so sudden,
It feels like a comedy,
Bye, Bye, Matthew Perry,
Your life was a fairy tale,
If we want to smile again,
Just think of you,
To your bright face,
In the cafe «central perk»
Bye, bye, Chandler Bing,
What a great idea to die in Los Angeles,
The city of angels, you were one,
Your place now is in our hearts.
Pedaling along
a rocky road,
a dusty road,
a hot and sunny road.
Pedaling past
dry, rocky fields,
dry, dusty fields,
hot and sunny fields.
Surprised to see
a lily flower,
a lonely flower,
a kid stoning it.
Pedaling back
The setting sun lay low across the field.
Boy, flower and memory are long gone.
Neil Armstrong in nineteen-sixty-nine
Moonwalked on the moon, the first in line.
There have now been twelve
Humans, no elve.
Don’t you think this is mighty fine?