Best 1971 Poems
I awoke early that morning as Venus is fading from dawn's sky.
Watching sun rays skate upon the mirror of ripples,gently flowing by.
On the deck of a Princess ship, suspended between the Heaven and the sea.
The mirage of a double Sunrise,as the sun shone upon itself and me.
Today is the day I say "I DO", take thee as my Wife: for the Eons of Eternity.
Bible in hand, the captain stands in Dress Whites, as does his loyal crew.
Arm and arm with daddy,as he gives her unto me; to start a life of Love anew.
Her emerald eyes try hiding behind a transparent Pure White vail; only to fail
Her auburn hair is dancing below her shapely hips: I long to kiss her Rosa lips
Do YOU take this woman"Lenore Ellen Adams" as Your Always and Forever Wife.
I Do echos across the Caribbean Sea. I Do reverberates in the bright Blue sky. "I DO"
Inspired by Dan Kearley's Contest :"One Of Your Greatest Days
Dedicated in Loving Memory of "My LIFE, My LOVE, My FOREVER, MY WIFE
"Lenore Ellen (Adams) Johnson - Nov. 4, 1951 - August 25, 1971
“I never Travel without my Diary, one should always have
something sensational to read“. . . Oscar Wilde, 1891
Friday August 24th , 1971, 11:58 PM my last night Alone
Saturday August 25th,1971, 7:15 AM I awake with new life
Knowing at 12:00 PM Lenore Adams Becomes my FOREVER WIFE
Until it unfolds; A Dream of Everlasting LOVE not yet known
Saturday, August 25th,1971, 9:00AM, Breakfast with “DAD”
“I see the LOVE in my Daughter’s Eyes :Welcome to our Family “
Saturday, August 25th, 1971, 11:00AM
I showered, trim my beard and got dressed ,Tuxedo? : for my BRIDE
The Captain in his Dress Whites on the on the deck of our “Princess Ride”
For the Eons of Forever, in sickness and in Health, will You be by her side
“ I W I L L “
For the Eternity of LIFE Forever ; Do YOU take LENORE as YOUR BRIDE
“ I D O “
Saturday August 25th, 1971, 7:13PM , My WIFE , My LIFE, My LOVE : Entered Heaven
My Last Entree
Inspired by the Contest “ The Diary “ Sponsored by ~Constance~ A Rambling
POET~~
Written by HGarvey Daniel Esquire
1st Place
We sat there just groovin', our senses so keen
Trippin' and giggling, taking in nature’s scene
We smirked as visitors drove up in blind haste
"Take a picture! Let's go! No time left to waste!"
We were smug, silly hippies, naive to the core
So certain we had found the key to that door
Those tourists were clueless, yet then so were we
My highway to wisdom does not come toll-free
I'll never fly to heaven on Cannabis weeds
Through brambles and thorns my gutted path leads
If I find Eden, I must first weed and plow
Wish I could go back to Yellowstone now
LOVE stands still , the Sun does not set in SORROW
The deep Caribbean Sea took LENORE from Me
In a Rainbow, Her Soul lies hidden in Kaleidoscope, Coral
ALWAYS and FOREVER YOUR Liege, with LOVE…HG
To Be Continue
A Tear scars my cheek, With no Time to Think
I watched My MOST BELOVED LENORE -- “ DIE “
Thrown Overboard, by a Boom not tied
The Tears I Cried
To Be Continued, if YOU Like??
YOUR Liege ALWAYS and FOREVER; HG ( Harry )
Can You Remember; the day YOUR Voice, Died; to my Ears
To Lose my Wife Lenore : on Our Wedding Day all Those Years
Reminisce : in the History of Forever : “ The Day; the Dead, Survive “
How much more I want to “ LOVE YOU “ for that’s what Keeps me Alive
I Know YOU Will ALWAYS LOVE Me with All My LOVE for YOU
My Tears are unfulfilled Dreams; Crying for the Memory of my LOVE " YOU "
A Dedication To Eternal LOVE
The Flashes, YOUR About to See
Are Memories, of LENORE and Me
When I said : “ I DO “, I meant “ I DO “
How Well I Know, YOU Meant it “ TOO “
For , ALWAYS and FOREVER: “ MY WIFE “
For , ALWAYS and FOREVER: “ MY LIFE “
Dedicated, in LOVING Memory; To my Wife
“ Lenore Ellen (Adams) JOHNSON “
The ripples at the stern of the ship, Air bubbles rise no more
In the depths of the Caribbean Sea, I Lost My Love : LENORE
My Heart and Mind in Unison, decided they could be :
The One’s that Swim from Shore to Shore, and bring Lenore back to Me
The Captain hands me a Transparent White Veil ,they found floating on the Sea
A tear in his eye, He Salutes: his Dress White Gloves wipe flowing Tears from me
YOUR Liege, With LOVE, ALWAYS and FOREVER...HG ( Harry )
To Be Continued
1971 to 2011
Then,
If only, we could understand
We could have walked hand in hand.
If only, plots could be reversed
Echoes could have been hushed.
If only, coups could be avoided
Laws could have been abided.
If only, lust could be elapsed
Our land could have been wrapped.
If only, ego could be aside
‘Sorry’ could have been pride.
If only, “The Book” could be cited
Some respect could have been provided.
If only, we could understand
We could have walked hand in hand.
Now,
We may walk hand in hand
If only, we can understand.
Situations should not be revised
If only, leaders can be advised.
Other’s drones should be erased
If only, dear ones can be praised.
Respect and education is their right
If only, we can feel their plight.
Mistakes are meant to teach
If only, past may we reach.
As a nation may we reside
If only, keep “The Book” beside
Then, we may walk hand in hand
If only we can understand.
Saloon
Squeezed between office buildings
On lower Broadway
Desolate and out of the way
Faint neon sign marks the place
For the downtown art scene.
Poetry readings on Sunday afternoons
Only the regulars show up
Invited or not
Some mount the stage and
Recite a piece or two
To scattered applause.
The beat goes on
Summer nights fly by
No Sunday readings now
It’s Saturday and it’s a different place.
Crowd mingles
Three deep at the bar
A/C working on overtime while
Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On plays
Jazzy and soulful
A monster hit
To no one’s surprise.
A hangout for anyone
Bodies waiting to meet
An Agent.
Or maybe a Publisher.
Or a Rep.
Anybody. Somebody. Anyone know somebody important?
Naw, this ain’t the place
This is St. Adrian’s
A place for
Artists.
Writers.
Sculptors.
Working class dreamers.
Pretenders and losers.
Wannabes.
Lost children and
Casual loners on the prowl.
Carol, alone in a corner booth
Glass of white wine in her hands
On the rocks of course
Smiles at everyone like a Mona Lisa.
Jack Micheline
Bronx’ original Beat
Wrote River of Red Wine in ‘58
Manuscript under his arm
Waits for someone
To buy him a drink
Elaine, beautiful in a peasant blouse
Scent of musk oil like a halo
Motions
To the young men
Who watch her hands
Move like deadly weapons
Stan’s a photographer. Sleepy, one night
Left his equipment in a car
Morning arrives and
Broken windshield screams
You’ve been robbed.
Junior, a sculptor, needs rent money for a walkup in the East Village
Otherwise he’ll live on someone’s couch
Gil does commercials
Until he finds an old lady
Then Hollywood here he comes
And Glenn is a writer with lots of ideas
But no paper and no place to go.
No one asked what I did for money
Or where I lived.
I was accepted with a simple sitdownhaveadrink.
Sometimes there’d be ten of us
Squeezed in a booth or
Around a table
Talking and talking.
Any topic not important
Just to meet and forget for awhile
The nagging loneliness and rejection.
It’s well past midnight
Chairs scrape the floor and there’s an echo in the walls
Left behind are empty glasses and stale beer
As the place begins to empty out.
We leave
Hitting the still streets
Looking for a cab
Or the nearest subway
But before we do
We promise to meet again.
1971 (Hey Dude)
Hey dude, come in, come in.
Been a long time since we last smoked the peace pipe together.
Hey! I think it was during Hendrix’s set in Bethel, dude!
Here, let me move these Rolling Stones out of the way.
and the Taco Bell wrappers… There. Dude, let’s sit.
First, I need to change the record. Let me look here….hmm,
Iron Butterfly? Naw, too psychedelic. Blind Faith?
Naw, they’re too much like Cream. And I’m tired of them.
Hey, how ‘bout Led Zeppelin 3?... Naw, too new;
Ah! Let’s hear some very mellow Traffic music. This is cool dude!
It’s their second album…very trippy music...
Listening to this stuff makes me feel alright!...
Dude, Here you go. That hole there is like a carburetor;
Put your finger on it and draw in. Then, let go. Boom!
Dude! Welcome to the petrified forest, man!
Dude! I been kicking back here thinking about infinity, man.
My mind is constantly being blown thinking about how big the universe is.
Dude, we are so small, so infinitesimal, so minute,
in comparison to the absolute vastness of the universe.
Dude, here we are, riding on this huge ball of dirt,
turning through space at a thousand miles per hour,
and we aren’t even feeling it as we speed along,
like it’s not even happening, man!
You know, dude, we are so small, so very very small,
we’re all just a very small part of this vast solar system
with these humongous planets circling this huge ball of fire,
which are all just a very small part of this humongous Milky Way galaxy,
which is just one of billions and billions of galaxies in the universe…
Man, it makes my mind bend!...
Here, this purple haze from Michoacán will seal the deal, dude…
I also been thinking about God, dude!
We are all so small; we are all like spiders, just spinning our webs…
in this humongous garden called life!
So I must ask Dude:
What is God? Who is God?
I will tell you what God is! I now know! Dude!
Are you ready to hear what God is? …
Ice cream, dude! Ice cream!
Do you want some vanilla ice cream, dude?
I have a gallon in my freezer!
Think of the millions of people in the world right now,
the people of India, South America, Australia and even in Dinuba, California,
who at this very moment, this precise second in time and eternity,
are sitting there, eating vanilla ice cream.
Hey dude! Be right back!
The summer air hangs still.
Hawk and whippoorwill
Wing mournful down the graying skies…
Hearken to their cries!
And then the faintest breeze
Murmurs in the trees…
And at the Lonesome Place
Spirits sigh in space.
Ending in a flouncy ruffle, I married in a brown crushed velvet dress
This was 1971. Only six people were there, maybe one less.
My groom was nervous, I had sweet talked him into eloping with me.
I was confident this was the way God meant our wedding to be.
This was our second try at finding a justice of the peace.
My husband’s pants were ironed into a straight down middle crease.
He had a big hunk of dark hair that fell across his left hazel eye.
I believe I heard a secretary give a little sigh.
These people had tried to talk us out of this quickie wedding.
Strangers to us, they had a deputy give a little sing.
This was during the awful horrible Vietnam War you realize.
My groom was number thirty-eight in the draft, danger could arise.
We have been married fifty years, so things worked out rather well.
My husband never had to serve in swamps of that foreign hell.
He always says that I looked beautiful on our wedding day.
When I look at him, he is nineteen. What could be better anyway?
In ol' Songbe the choppers rise
From the sling-out pad with sleepy eyes,
All filled with special OD goodies--
Frags and doo just for the boonies.
We'll convoy up Rt. 309
And build a bridge
Where the French one stood.
The laterite is packed real tight
To support the five-tons through the fight.
The peneprime smells oooh just right
With body bags stacked in the hootch tonight.
So come sing the happy convoy song:
Santana is struming and "beer to the front!"
"Carry me back to ol' Kambuja,"
The electric guitars drift o'er the berm.
And the sweat is mixed with the three-two beer,
Nobody here is filled with fear,
And the stars by the thousands stand up to cheer
Santana and doo and a breeze from the sea.
The rockets are pretty seen from afar.
I see the foot petal shaped like a bare foot and I remember.
Summer of 1971, white jeans, pink shirt, driving to beaches.
I smell the fish in the water, memories flood back instantly.
Your hazel eyes, and the way you look at me as if I am candy.
Memories upon memories happen; they chase each other.
The lavender blanket, the green straw hat, how I loved you.
How you adored me. Summer of 1971, never to be replicated.
We were one, you and I; I never got that again. Did you?
I had never had a TV dinner until that summer; they are bad.
Better now but we did not care. When I close my eyes I can see carrots.
They were cut into tiny squares, abnormal, surreal on fake tin.
Swanson chicken pot pies, we consumed them like they were candy.
My car had a hole through the floor under the foot pedal.
Remember that? You thought it was wicked; for me it was normal.
We laughed about everything, and spoke of things above our head.
Neither of us understood the horrors of the Viet Nam War yet.
We had survived the assassinations of Dr. Martin Luther King and JFK.
We had seen the church in Birmingham bombed with four little girls.
We did not grow up in innocent times, but summer of 1971 was innocent.
We were fresh, new, eager young pups, exploring unfamiliar territory.
The sun, the moon, and the stars were on our side; we felt magical.
We were one that summer; a mystical time. This foot pedal reminded me.
I thank God that memories of you at 20 came flooding back, it is a gift.
In this time of uncertainty, it made me smile and sign as I remember us.