An Old Hippie Poem – Circa 1970s

Author’s note: For my 1st post of 2019 – the following poem (?) found in a box of old papers I was looking for. Written in a flea-bag motel -somewhere around Springfield, Missouri – on my hitch-hiking way to Siloam Springs, Arkansas – just near the border of Oklahoma. I had run away from home at the age of 18 to break the pressure.



(Ode to Adverbs)

Circa early 1970s


watching clouds and shifting rays of sun

whatever can be done

up the river to find blossomed trees

can we ever really please


though it flies highly

we can’t actually say “bye”


tick, tick, tickly shall the bomb say

what shall the news be of the day


but if we find the ultimate goal of

not our lives but of no one’s

we can really be a totally you


so grow on trees and keep heads

with her love of life and tales of her

love of you


a penny – “Snap!”

falling down slowly

comin home wrongly

hangin it highly

letting it fly

round and round we go

forever and ever too slow

let’s all go to the wall

and ended it all

nothin’s gonna change my worldly world

©2019 d. Øle Ø.

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