Best Sixties Poems
The swinging sixties never swung
As much as people said
But for me, the bands
And the songs they sung
Linger on inside my head
I rocked and rolled to Morningtown
On a wagon with one wheel
And followed tracks
That took me down
To fields that were surreal
A jungle snake both sang and hissed
When a man climbed on his cloud
Then a windmill turned
In the Autumn mist
And a policeman laughed out loud
In a warm and gentle wonderland
On a train whose whistle blew
A swinging star
Introduced his band
And sang a rainbow too
God only knows when I look back
Why The Miller told his tale
And I can’t explain
Why Grocer Jack
Turned a whiter shade of pale
But I'm thankful for those days back then
Before the years rolled by
Those were the days
In dreams and when
There was spirit in the sky.
taboos
gone loose
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walled in
Berlin
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flower
power
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20th August 2014
Contest: Let's Keep Footling Around
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
A best-selling song was recorded by Mark Dinning.
In a string of sad songs, this was just the beginning.
In 1960, the lyrics conveyed teary eyes.
“Teen Angel” was a big hit, and it was no surprise.
Many sad songs followed this one up the Billboard charts.
Their lyrics described death and tragedy, breaking hearts.
“Tell Laura I Love Her” was sung by Ray Peterson.
Another great song was “Last Kiss” by J. Frank Wilson.
We have to include “Big John” produced by Jimmy Dean.
Some more great tragic songs made their presence on the scene.
“Ringo” was recorded by Bonanza’s own Lorne Greene.
“Dead Man’s Curve” earned a gold record for both Jan and Dean.
The Shangri-La’s song “Leader of the Pack” joined others.
There was “Ebony Eyes” by the Everly Brothers.
Two tragic melodies delivered by Dickey Lee
were the gold recordings titled “Patches” and “Laurie”.
That was not the end, for in ‘68 came “Honey”.
This was a number one hit so many got to know.
It became the best effort by Bobby Goldsboro.
However, during this time, not all songs sounded sad.
A few melodies came around that were not that bad.
Among the tragic ballads that were a plethora
was the novel song, Allan Sherman’s “Camp Granada”.
My favorite non-tragic melody one would sing
was the late Bob Luman’s hit “Let’s Think About Living”.
I really believe everything would have been so nice
if only more people heeded Bob Luman’s advice!
Yellow Submarine comes on the radio.
Beatles music.
I press the accelerator, flying past semis who had been chasing each other.
Little Old Lady from Pasadena comes on next.
I go insane, setting a new world record for speed.
Mama Cass’s voice comes out of that radio.
It is ON!
Shades of my youth
When I blew two engines out of two cars.
Because I was that girl.
Tapping on cymbals were seekers of peace.
while a young man will give up his life
in a far away land where the bombs don't cease
and there's just no escape from the strife.
Spit on in airports was their welcome back
after serving so bravely as called.
How terrible they should be under attack.
Good citizens were just appalled.
Meanwhile this era is hopefully known
for much more than some useless war.
Many great leaders with great visions shown.
Kennedy, King and more.
Then the British Invasion of new rock and roll.
The Beatles, the Stones and the Who.
Followed by Motown, the smooth sounds of soul.
Psychedelic rock left it's mark too.
In Haight Ashbury did the flower children live.
Though off to communes some did move.
Peace and free love they purported to give
caught up in that eternal groove.
Decade of change , exploration of space
"a giant leap for mankind"
Flipper , The Monkees and Smiley Face.
Great moments of the Sixties to find!
for "Decades" contest
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
"It's now or never come hold me tight"
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
The youngest president with views left wing
Destined to die too young, a young bride's fright
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
Married to my first love, a baby rings
There is a murder in our young sight
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
A young bride crawling away as if she has wings
A baby boy kicks with all his strong might
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
In the sixties young love into marriage zings
Hope for a different future takes flight
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
Sudden end to hopes and dreams death did bring
Deep down in the spirit a seed planted alright
Dating my first love, hearing Elvis sing
A handsome young Kennedy on TV springs
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest: Decades
To me my meeting my future husband and my marriage then children was
an important part of the sixties but of course only to us did it really matter.
Leftwing defined: members of a liberal or radical political party, or those
favoring extensive political reform..
Leftwing origin in the political sense in the first half of the 1800s where
in European legislatures the seating practice to seat those holding liberal
views were assigned the left side of the house..It also had use in military..
Dating in your sixties
is really no fun at all.
Our requirements have changed,
you don't need to be handsome or tall.
There's not too much to choose from,
the good ones have a mate.
You just hope to hell to find one
you're not embarrassed just to date.
Glasses, false teeth, even no hair,
are things we're not bothered about.
Just pray he can carry on a conversation
and doesn't act like some kind of lout.
Size and shape don't count,
it's what's inside that matters.
Someone who can just be kind
and maybe say things that flatter.
Women want a man who's loyal,
funny, patient and not mean.
Men seem to want a Barbie doll,
someone out of a dream.
And now with online dating
it seems all they want to do is chat.
If I'm not going to dinner or a movie
I'd just as soon stay home with the cat.
20/09/2019
that's the one, the glorious fun,
my first gorgeous slow sex, in
a kitchen, while borsch was cooked
that's the one, the Beatles the kaftans,
the hair, the kinky-boots along the street,
and hash smoked in chilly twilight, as the
pouting police drove by;
that's the one, the decade, the one hundred
and twelve months, no fame, living in the shade
and getting drunk and laid, and not understanding
love or "feelings", or how the world was made
that's the one, my decade, with black pubic hair
(now turned white) and cigarettes and ale and songs
of Ireland and America, sung glorious in group of
horny-handed boys; on into the night
that's the one, the only decade, with leather waistcoats,
Levi jeans, Picasso, Art Pepper and fake jumping beans;
just sell me this glory, this knight-bloated fiction, your
drama and expertise, like Benny goodmnan on his trapeze
and now fifty years gone by, I've travelled on, to pastures,
loans and mobile, dancing phones; rebellious off-spring now
in tow, their decade, beginning the same, steamy, furtive show;
and when the bus of doom draws close, and the angel asks
me,"where to go?", I'll trip my fingers on his bow, saying,
"through the sixties, please take me slow,"
Hours of fun, excitement by this anomaly
being a member of the Addams family
I’m Bewitched and I dreamed of Jeannie,
our humble abode on Gilligan's Island,
also lived our friends The Munsters,
the Beverly Hillbillies and The Brady Bunch,
around the corner lived Denis the menace,
so at times we had to Get Smart then there
were That Girl she was courting Batman or
was it Robin, my love was my horse Mr Ed,
lived with The Monkees on Petticote Junction,
I met my favourite Martian in The Twilight Zone,
he told me that he got Lost in Space, now he’s
become a Fugitive great friend of The flying Nun,
my memories of entering the Time Tunnel on the
way to my Voyage to the bottom of the sea,
I’ve been Branded by the Invaders, The Prisoner,
if it wasn’t for Mr Terrific and Captain Nice the
Mob Squad from The Land of the Giants would
be the Avengers of F Troop from Star Trek.
So many things were going on.
In that decade of the new dawn.
Where peace and love fell short of war.
And no one can recall before.
Our innocence took a back seat.
When mind altering kept the beat.
It was before I had a mind.
And my own way was yet to find.
That's what I liked the most I guess.
I had no need to try impress.
A childhood years all open eyed.
But still didn't see when Grandpa died.
I'd be remiss if I didn't mention.
The Beatles and all their attention.
For me they made the sun come out.
For me that's what the sixties were about.
A swinging sixties chick was I dressed head to toe in Biba
Miniskirts my mother loathed and free love too, so I was told
Music of choice was Motown and Soul that played upon my radio
At weekends tuned to Saturday Club a programme never missed
Radio Luxembourg each night, though signal crackled and hissed
Reception was weak as twilight approached, with my radio under my sheet
At the foot of the stairs Mum’s voice could be heard
“Turn that radio off, and go to sleep”
In ‘62 a pirate ship launched off the Essex coast
Radio Caroline was her name, with young DJ’s as programme hosts
Innovators of their time, played songs we loved the most
Enjoying the challenge, but taking a risk each time they went ashore
Deemed illegal ~ no license had they, so were technically breaking the law
Trailblazing times enhancing our lives, playing songs never heard of before
these songs were the soundtracks of my youth
these songs I love and adore...
Tony Blackburn their first DJ; a handsome young fella back in the day
The first DJ to spin his discs whilst bobbing around on the pirate ships
At 77 still playing his songs and boring the nation with corny quips
on ‘Sounds of the Sixties’ every Saturday morn
he plays the tunes
I singalong...
I sent a request for his 'Magic Moments' spot
feeling sure it would end up in his 'magic melting pot'
Our 'Magic Moment' in '63, as we danced the night away
at the Regent Ballroom, Brighton, on a floor made of wooden parquet
was it love at first sight on a midsummer’s night
by the light of the silvery moon...
As we danced to the Chiffons 'He’s so Fine' it became our special tune
When Tony played our 'Magic Moment' on his radio show
I could hardly believe my ears
then my eyes filled up with tears
for my darling he has gone ~ for he died ten years ago
Written on 1st December 2018
after hearing my request played upon the Radio...
Contest :NOSTALGIA any form,any number of lines
Sponsor: Brian Strand
HONOURABLE MENTION
Once A Wild Child Of The Exploding Sixties
We were young, waiting universe lay ahead
too foolish to see danger or feel dread.
What of Love? It was hungry and all around
no need to ask life questions too profound!
Coming from famine, love's gold was our greed
we were starved stragglers in desperate need.
When we gambled and lost, love turned sour
we found dark little taverns in which to cower!
Such was life, in past days of our hippie youth
we just wanted to live fast, to hell with the truth.
Consequences, another word we furiously cursed
sadly they came, their bitter milk we nursed!
Life was glorious that summer of sixty-nine
days gifts, turned to night's wonders so fine.
No worries, Piper need not ever be paid
we kings of this world, thought we had it made!
Future promised, tons and tons of the same
we were ignorant of Fate's cruelest game.
Time was abundant gift that we gladly wasted
life was meant to be lived, loved and tasted!
Then Father Time, stepped up to ring our bell
life went from bliss into a living hell.
Bills sent, we were forced to pay heavy dues
walk over red-hot coals without any shoes!
Nights soon found morns coming with such aches
found we were not steel but glass that now breaks!
Yet through it all, some sweet memories are gold
although quite foolish we were also brave and bold!
What can one say that has not truly danced
felt fantastic bliss of being deeply romanced?
Truth may show bad yet in our youthful pride
WE THAT LIVED HARD AND FAST, WANT ANOTHER RIDE!
Robert J. Lindley, 9-15-2017
As a young teen I sadly confess, I dreamt of becoming an actress.
A class assignment drew me to Warner's in D.C., where I
brushed up against black history..
I stumbled into a meeting of the NAACP.
The people welcomed one out of touch, this
young white girl who had way too much..
Months later, although mom's words were harsh my dad and I
went to the Poor Peoples March. I was amazed to see thousands there,
those pop up tents from every where. I drove by with peripheral vision,
those fleeting glimpses of how others were living..
Early years passed and I matured some how, remaining oblivious to "black
power".
I graduated from high school and was freed from mom and watched as
several of my class mates went straight to Viet Nam..
I never went to Woodstock nor protested the war, too caught up in my
story to care about the poor..
I moved from sheltered Silver Spring to New York City and had my own
adventures there, some not very pretty..
I indulged in a little "huffing and puffing". My hands were in a wheat film
buttering an English muffin..
Impulsiveness and hormones got the best of me so at a young age I
began my family..
Many moons later while finishing my degree I learned so much more
about Black history. As a minority student at Bowie State I had a teacher,
Dr. Kondo and he was truly great. He had just consulted for the film
Malcolm X and filled me in on all those voids not written in the texts.
The greatest of gifts that one can bestow is to take off those blind folds
and help some one grow.
vignette-ROCK 'N ROLL (repost of my 2008) poem)
Fame may not buy love
Or hold its hand
On a hard day's night-
Yesterday's in the past
Ecce Cor Meum maybe the one to last.
Tribute to Paul McCartney & his oratorio
RE-posted to complement the misiing decade from Linda-Marie's recent poem
sixties garage songs
play like the blues of my life
am yearning for more