Now days they say we were free range,
we children of the seventies,
but really we were simply free
to wheelie and to ride.
We were groovy,
as groovy as our bikes ~
banana seats and decks of cards
made sure of that!
We rode and roamed until street lights came on
and all mama did when we got home was say
I see you’re still in one piece,
and that was that!
Bikes gave way to fast cars
and fast parties out in the woods,
with a little weed and lots of booze
because one of us had an older brother.
I finally had to go work for a living,
the fast car traded for a family sedan~
gave up smoking, gave up booze
and bought the house with a picket fence
The only thing I truly miss
is that groovy bike with banana seat
and playing cards clipped to the spokes
making noise going ‘round and around.
Motivated by jealousy
she spitful undermined
my intentions
far to much to
mention: intruding
on my happiness
making it harder for
me to be
the person I wanted to be
as stoic as it seems
I'm lacking happiness
lacking valor rantings
it's more like constant chantings
in a relationship
I'm pushed to the side
interferance with my advances
in awe taking second glances
I couldn't beleive what I
saw
the odd one out
just tagging along
I know the melody
but they won't let
me sing my song
feeling excluded
moping around
sorta like ah
big silly clown
get it back together
and mosey along
fix what broken
right that whats wrong
The Baritone;" We don't need know skoo bee doo de woops, we gonna do ooh-ah ooh we"
scram Mister let me sang with your Songstress, I'll show you it's
sopposse to be!"
"the smell of dance clubs and dancehalls got me reelin"
I'm reelin
and I'm dealing
with a newly felt feeling
make ah melody
make ah melody
aint nothing specail
about what I'm feeling
make ah melody!
ooh-ah ooh:ooh
ooh ooh
ooh!
Just following mind-grooves,
hunting the smell of vinyl
and laminated covers,
no music available
only an inaudible sense
of myself
whistling aimlessly
through collections -
recollections,
the reissued
fade-outs of the faded.
Nothing too much to bear
between ear to ear,
only the well-worn, well scratched,
revolutions of the heart - its pulse
a rhythmic clicking of dry fingers
to the beat
of long muted tunes.
A fleet
of clover feet.
The puddle grunts.
Crouched atop
leafy beds,
groovy eyes
dance.
Croaks and caws,
a symphony.
A quartet
in the woods.
Bell-bottom blue jeans
were the rage
when I was that age
'tween twelve and fourteen.
With no money to spend
on such foolish things,
our lives wouldn't end
without that latest trend.
But we knew how to make do,
and Mom didn't say no
when we just split the seam
of an outdated jean,
sewed in a piece of colorful cloth
from an old-fashioned frock,
and felt groovy in our homemade
bell-bottom blue jeans.
Come on over Ted said groovy Lucy
For tonight I’m feeling nice and juicy
Ted appeared unclothed
With assets exposed
For the sake of a strawberry smoothie.
Groovy Goodbye
Monkee, Michael Nesmith, known as the serious of the four in the band
Performed as guitarist/singer and toured with Micky Dolenz last month.
He wrote the Linda Ronstadt hit “Different Drum” and a 2017 Memoir.
Songs like “I’m a Believer” sold more than 75 million records in 1967.
1-25-22
A Celebrity Epitaph Poetry Contest
Sponsor Michelle Faulkner
Michael Nesmith died December 10, 2021 at age 78
Performed on T.V. for the first time in 1966
They became world famous
Top 10 Monkees Songs
'Circle Sky' ...
'You and I' ...
'Daily Nightly' ...
'Pleasant Valley Sunday' ...
'Valleri' From: 'The Birds the Bees and the Monkees' (1968) ...
'The Porpoise Song' From: 'Head' (1968) ...
'Daydream Believer' From: 'The Birds the Bees and the Monkees' (1967) ...
'I'm a Believer' From: 'More of the Monkees' (1967)
YouTube Video of the group:
https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwj46YyRqM71AhVbJjQIHRjVCh8QyCl6BAgFEAM&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dgv2MLlZKarM&usg=AOvVaw3B9HOVpcKWOvuf9A6_HktM
She is a groovy, hippy girl.
She loves that funky, trippy beat.
It is her hippy, trippy world!
She is a groovy, hippy girl.
She dances funky, hippy twirls,
and when she sits, she taps her feet.
She is a groovy, hippy girl.
She loves that funky, trippy beat.
1/12/2022
Did you play Spin the Bottle when you were very
young?
Sitting in a big circle, you had to kiss the boy who
pointed to?
It was quite an innocent game.
Today, life has neither value nor shame!
Patriots are held in vicious scorn.
But killing a Policeman, is big fun.
God is "old hat", the Bible ?
A bunch of lies and baloney!
So, she sits there, writing profound Haikus,
With latest, live-in lover, unemployed, Tony!
5/20/2021
Peace and love lots of slang man
I'm feeling groovy tonight
I was a flower child still stand
wishing we could all unite
although they protested
in their maxi dresses
and were getting arrested
I would've avoided those messes
mag wheels and jacked up cars
green shaggy carpet
matching kitchen appliances with bars
long hair and sideburns artists
silver trees color wheels
did glow with their stacks
mini-skirts flashing appeals
burning bras with bare backs
just to experience how it feels
custom vans with daisies
parents with wigs toupees
rose colored glasses not crazies
an era that never went out fun days
We are the crying children of the 70’s,
not much changes inside ‘other than knowing better now ,what undoubtedly would have been the keys to the kingdom back then .
We are the innocent generation of comic trusting gullibility ‘the worry of our world and blame For its care or lack of ‘now placed firmly upon us .
We are the children of an era where life ‘as a fact was better and way more safe in the groove that we knew as the 70’s.
We are the trapped children sentenced to incarceration? in adult bodies,
no one speaks of our future anymore, only that of the up and coming millennials who flee willingly to adulthood ‘only to find out to late their folly .
We are the crying children of the 70’S ?
I-t
R-ightfully
I-mplements
S-weet
H-eavenly
C-onnotation
O-f
G-roovy
L-ine
I-n
N-ame's
G-reatness
Topic: Birthday of Irish T. Cogling (June 22)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
groovy the vinyl
splendidly spinning slowly
going round and round
9/10/2010
The grooves of her voice
Hum alive as she spins
Whirling hearts
Whirling minds
Reeling this way and that
Back again
Slow— a mistake— me but
Not me
Her but
Not her
And I’m thinking she’s something,
She’s the idea of tea
And rain
Snap! Fast like lighting,
Sharp tongue through my heart,
My bleeding heart
Pooled at my feet,
Urging,
Where are you now?
and
Who will you be?
Girl, I’ve got your saliva your honey in my veins
In one ear and
Then the other and
Bleeding out at my
Weighted feet
I swear I’ll be dancing
(Someday)
To your soul, to your voice
But I can’t make a sound
And my brain’s been wiped clean
So for now
Until your music and I meet again
I’ll just have you on rewind
Go ahead choose your tune
What floats your boat away from the gloom
Some say it must be on a vinyl record
To hear the sound in each gritting chord
But I like to hear the clean sound
Close your eyes and image them getting down
And when you do just that and lay back
The music you choose will be where it’s at.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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