DGeneration
poetry slam hippy dgeneration artist writer 60's 70's flower
posted almost 14 years ago
This is a new up and coming writer from New York. She's a genuine flower child who paints her experiences through multiple poems that can be read randomly or in order. If you're into slam poetry, the 60's and 70's, or just bored/curious check out the website.
Of course that Gap soon became a clothing
store. And Mom and Dad v. kids a slogan
we all bought into, as there was this war…
but we will deal with that eventually.
Back to our culture: still our schools were split
into the freaks and jocks, now much more so.
High school was more serious in this. Our
teachers, too, took sides, and some were fired.
Some tried to tell the truth and give us books
that weren't "approved" by parents who would pour
over them, red pens in hands, to find each
dirty word or scene. So now censorship
came to our attention and we fought back
with "underground" newspapers for our peers
to express themselves, though at best they'd lack
maturity, embarrass us to tears
by whining about rules we knew were dumb.
A few we fought and won, however, like
the law that girls could not wear pants to class.
Or one that said you didn't have the right
to put your head down if you had to sleep.
So sleep we did. Now teachers couldn't touch
us roughly or we would complain to Dad
who'd sue their ass and kick them out of school.
More and more the jocks would hate the freaks, and
fewer kids shook pompoms, came to rallies.
Football heroes were a thing outdated.
Soon it was even cool to play the flute
(like Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull).
The girls thought all the longhaired boys were cute
and football players had to cut theirs short.
We tried to get around to festivals,
though few of us would make the Woodstock scene.
It got a lot better when the first of us
turned the magic driving age of sixteen.
Then cars were borrowed from suspicious dads
and brought back reeking of the dreaded weed.
We tried to stem its stench but we could not.
It permeated everything, and we'd
given up excusing its existence.
Sometimes our parents even tried a puff.
Grandparents sometimes showed less resistance-
in their day this was all quite normal stuff.
Like "Truckin'"- "That's a dance from the twenties,"
Grandpa lectured as he showed off his licks.
And grandma had worn dresses as see-through
as any mod designer's risque mix.
But Mom and Dad stuck with their martinis.
They didn't get the reason kids rebelled.
To them we were ungrateful and lazy.
They'd planned by now to see their shoes well filled.
How could they send us off to college now,
when colleges were worse than high schools with
their commie-pinko profs, and anyhow
it looked like some were closed entirely
as striking students occupied their halls?
"Oh what," they moaned, "was this world coming to?"
They'd all been so dutiful when young. How
could their kids become such brats? How could we
ingrates not see the glowing sacrifice
made in our honor, made to keep us free?
We'd gone to rags and ruin, into vice
and who wanted a boy or girl hippy
to have around the house embarrassing
them in front of friends who came to drink and
complain about their own kids who were wild-
maybe even dope fiends on the brink of
being busted, going off to jail as
cops discovered narcotics on their child….
But cops were often busy elsewhere, and
our marijuana use was not the thing
got us into trouble, usually
we got caught for light crimes, like loitering
at concerts hoping we could get a glimpse
of some long-haired idol, who'd have to flee
in a big black limousine or face the press
of eager fans so dense they scared the shit out
of hired guards left quaking in our wake.
Here's one of them:
30) More Hippy Shit
Of course that Gap soon became a clothing
store. And Mom and Dad v. kids a slogan
we all bought into, as there was this war…
but we will deal with that eventually.
Back to our culture: still our schools were split
into the freaks and jocks, now much more so.
High school was more serious in this. Our
teachers, too, took sides, and some were fired.
Some tried to tell the truth and give us books
that weren't "approved" by parents who would pour
over them, red pens in hands, to find each
dirty word or scene. So now censorship
came to our attention and we fought back
with "underground" newspapers for our peers
to express themselves, though at best they'd lack
maturity, embarrass us to tears
by whining about rules we knew were dumb.
A few we fought and won, however, like
the law that girls could not wear pants to class.
Or one that said you didn't have the right
to put your head down if you had to sleep.
So sleep we did. Now teachers couldn't touch
us roughly or we would complain to Dad
who'd sue their ass and kick them out of school.
More and more the jocks would hate the freaks, and
fewer kids shook pompoms, came to rallies.
Football heroes were a thing outdated.
Soon it was even cool to play the flute
(like Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull).
The girls thought all the longhaired boys were cute
and football players had to cut theirs short.
We tried to get around to festivals,
though few of us would make the Woodstock scene.
It got a lot better when the first of us
turned the magic driving age of sixteen.
Then cars were borrowed from suspicious dads
and brought back reeking of the dreaded weed.
We tried to stem its stench but we could not.
It permeated everything, and we'd
given up excusing its existence.
Sometimes our parents even tried a puff.
Grandparents sometimes showed less resistance-
in their day this was all quite normal stuff.
Like "Truckin'"- "That's a dance from the twenties,"
Grandpa lectured as he showed off his licks.
And grandma had worn dresses as see-through
as any mod designer's risque mix.
But Mom and Dad stuck with their martinis.
They didn't get the reason kids rebelled.
To them we were ungrateful and lazy.
They'd planned by now to see their shoes well filled.
How could they send us off to college now,
when colleges were worse than high schools with
their commie-pinko profs, and anyhow
it looked like some were closed entirely
as striking students occupied their halls?
"Oh what," they moaned, "was this world coming to?"
They'd all been so dutiful when young. How
could their kids become such brats? How could we
ingrates not see the glowing sacrifice
made in our honor, made to keep us free?
We'd gone to rags and ruin, into vice
and who wanted a boy or girl hippy
to have around the house embarrassing
them in front of friends who came to drink and
complain about their own kids who were wild-
maybe even dope fiends on the brink of
being busted, going off to jail as
cops discovered narcotics on their child….
But cops were often busy elsewhere, and
our marijuana use was not the thing
got us into trouble, usually
we got caught for light crimes, like loitering
at concerts hoping we could get a glimpse
of some long-haired idol, who'd have to flee
in a big black limousine or face the press
of eager fans so dense they scared the shit out
of hired guards left quaking in our wake.