Hippies Poems - Poems about Hippies

So what’s wrong about hippies Peace and love and hair Tell me if there still is Magic in the air Tell me what’s the substitute For the peace and love Can we make our own cahoot On the terms above? Out on the streets and then You are back with stuff Act as if you have a plan Though your plan’s a bluff And you know...

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I think the hippies had it right pop a red and watch the lights pray against the cold machine tie dye the world in tranquility breaking bread with old friends lend your heart -become undead BUT Sometimes the world has blight evil eclipsing the...

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hippies were on the right path. They wanted people to love each other. Of course being mean to soldiers was wrong. And following cult leaders is never okay. But they had the love part right. They were trusting and open. And their clothes were instrumental in allowing fashion to be punky and fun....

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Only hillbillies have a couch on their porch. She has cute eyes. She is a cute kid. I am a hillbilly, I inform her. Her eyes narrow. Are you a redneck too? Sure, why not? Where do you keep your guns? In my gun refrigerator. Where is it? If I told you I would have to show you. Show me! She looks highly...

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I grew up a child of the ’60’s together my life and the hippie movement dawned… now when I look back at that time I wonder…where have all the hippies gone? Those long haired tie-dyed idealists who walked around with our feet bare who grew our own organic vegetables…who wore flowers in our hair. Who sang and danced and laughed…who...

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The folk era from way back in the sixties Provided me a chance to play my banjo on TV A folk group of six Four guys and two chicks The Canadiana Folksingers, a cool group of hippies...

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In the peace love seventies Preached to forgive our enemies Growing up our freedom breezy The lovin’ was made easy Woodstock hippies in bell bottoms Singing ballads on through autumns Hitchhikers up thumbing muscle cars Guitar strumming sweet mellow bars Long hair beads under stars Campfires looking up at Mars Submitted on March 30, 2019 for contest 10 LINES, 5 WORDS: RHYME III sponsored by...

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They grew up in the ’60’s…and as their lives unfurled They discovered they were righteous…laid back…two groovy kind of girls. They had long hair…down to their shoulders…some people thought them wild They were hippies…free spirits…unconventional…each one a flower child. They wore their clothing tie-dyed in colors bold and bright When they made the scene…they were a gas, a blast…so out...

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Peace Hippy Bell bottoms And hip huggers Platform shoes and belts The late 60’s And 70’s Flower Child...

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Hey, greetings bro, how up is the joy you’re soaring? I hope that every little thing in you shines golden thru and within the space your spirit best dwells in. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Say, I did land as planned on the planet of hippies, goodwill, brotherhood and Father-Mother-God’s peace? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I did? Whoa, good, all good, your reply serves my ease. Oh, wow, sure...

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Bourgeoise Hippies Littering your hallways with gold-painted plaster ? Buddhas and empty singing bowls. Building shrines and burning sage. Eating leaves and teaching Yoga Your mirrors are covered in dust.? You drown your ignorance of compassion In a shallow pool of consciousness. All the while disregarding the comforts of your privilege....

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Word Lyric #9 for Music “Testimonies of Old Hippies” We are still traveling by the speed of mind, We’re the old freaks, and survivors of the great Be In, Winsome hippie girls, now old and still kind, Play pan flutes with feathers glued to their skin. We were there when Joe and Jimi stole the big show, With their mythic renderings cast...

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Sonny orchestrated; Cher was his doll. Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves, was their nightly drawl. We’d preach a little gospel to save them all. Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul. Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves, was their nightly drawl. They were treacherously mean with their call. Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul. But the men would sneak, see us, big...

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Straight out of prison Wondering what I've been missing Right out of the gates I stuck out my thumb A van load of hippies All from Mississippi Stoped and asked, hey dude...what's going on I'm here for adventure Well hop in then Mister Adventure is what we're all about Now where we're all going There's no way of knowing A van of hippies and parolee freshly...

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So succinct To watch the eyes blink Under cover of sleep In shadow turn's The night burn's Psychedelic vision's in miles Of open fields Dancing the breeze Beyond the tree's Guitar's strum the chords of gun shot Flower petals The band play astray Festival mud and free love To blistered children Drug beaten into submissiveness Reciting dead poet's Works of post art...

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