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 there is no goal
Other than a peace
And some love is there for all
What’s more worth than this?
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 to become undead.
BUT
Sometimes the world has blight.
Evil eclipsing the gilded righteous.
Time to put away the peace pipe.
Wade into the muck and fight.
Clip the wing of evil before it flies.
Dust off the camo and put away tie-dye.
BUT
For the most part, the hippies had it right.
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.
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 interested.
Maybe another time.
There is a pause before she says “Mommy says you are a hippie!”
She’s got that right.
Slow smile. She is smug now.
A baby in training to be prejudiced against some group. Sad really.
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
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
AP: 1st place 2025
Peace
Hippy
Bell bottoms
And hip huggers
Platform shoes and belts
The late 60’s
And 70’s
Flower
Child
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.
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 in vinyl stone,
What was it? Where are we? We did not exactly know,
Janis and Pete and Alvin Lee lacerated the night alone.
And we heard The Bear boogie on down the wooded road.
Some of us saw magic mushrooms smiling on a giant toad.
Richie Havens and Carlos Santana let it all fly as we sat there,
Far away into mind space, their epic explosions resounded,
Electric guitar hysterics with screaming rants compounded,
We were all laid to waste there, in the rock n’ roll blare.
We old freaks still travel by the speed of mind,
Old dudes, and hippie girls hang around and are still kind,
We still secretly toke at midnight, all of us with the ghosts,
Of Joe and Jimi, when they sliced the sky, before that vast host.
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 and tall.
And lay their money down, and have a ball.
Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves was their nightly drawl.
We picked up a handsome man in Mobile, ya’all.
Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul.
Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves was their nightly drawl.
We picked up a handsome man in Mobile, ya’all.
Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul.
Papa would learn about this romance, in the Fall.
He was tall, handsome, but left me after all.
We picked up a handsome man in Mobile, ya’all.
Papa would learn about this romance, in the Fall.
Sonny orchestrated; Cher was his doll.
Written May 1, 2018
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 haze
In a glaze of Glory
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
If the world were full of hippies
there'd be nothing left to prove
except peace and understanding
and a little bit of groove
Noone would be homeless
Like many live today
We'd build beautiful communes
where anyone could stay
Together we'd make music
to the beat of mother earth
there'd be no fighting or war
Everyone sharing equal worth
We'd grow our own vegetables
and create trinkets to sell
We'd open up our minds
break free from our shell
Every colour and every race
would teach one another
we'd become a united family
every sister, every brother
We'd bless all gods creatures
show respect for the land
Give free hugs to everyone
openminded to understand
Nature would speak to us
Our world would become one
with peace and understanding
and a little bit of fun
so im this town right
with six hippies, and i dont know what a hippie is yet
and we go to the bar
start talking about the water
and one hippie says he's startin to get sick
and im like well
do they well the water?
the second hippie says
my head is spinning
and the third one says no it isnt
I start laughing
and the fifth hippie got sick
I said I was already sick when i got here
so im not sure what it is
i ask
whats that smell?
They told me
the rest of the hippies
i said
what hippies?
I dont see any hippies
and then i fell into the pit
it was a hippie pit
i didnt know i was a hippie
so there i am in this hole right
with 6 hippies
and the first says
whats that smell
and i said
i think its you hippies
i was told you stink
so the first hippie
said i need to take a bath
the second hippie said
where you going with it
the third hippe asked
is every hippie in this pit
the six hippies did it
whatever they think they did
me and six hippies drinking water
gettin sick
All about the peace.
They all have an inner beast.
The beast when let loose battles government tooth and nail.
Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail.
When the beast is restrained, these men and woman look harmless.
They go by life shower less.
They are vegan and are against violence.
If caught in the act in defile they will be silenced.
One hippie dead, more to go.
The way they live their lives they all die in a flow.
How could they throw their lives away at such a constant rate?
All this violence brews so much hate.
They will never give up no matter how many die.
For answers they look to the sky,
It will never lie.
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