Wednesday, July 26, 2017

free

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"





i never cared for high society
and only wanted to be free
give me a pad with a thousand square feet
a mile above the busy street

filled with the treasures of the orient
for 20 dollars a month rent
and endless supplies of grass and opium
and i would be a blissful bum

such dreams may seem uncouth
but encapsulated my youth
of course they never came true
but what are you going to do?

i have no regrets
although i lost all my bets
let fate and the world laugh at me
i still want to be free



Tuesday, July 25, 2017

i should get out more

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"





i should get out more
instead of sitting in my lonely head
dreaming of days gone by
that never existed

gypsy dave and sunshine are gone
so are winston churchill and jerry garcia
we don’t have nixon to kick around any more
nobody even remembers walter winchell

o j is back in the news for a few hours
rush limbaugh is disappearing over the horizon
it is raining in butte montana
but the sun is shining in sarajevo

i should get out in the street
in the world that has left me behind
and just look around
but would anybody notice me?

i thought the streets would be empty
but they are actually filled with people
all looking at their smart phones
and not at the sky or each other

the streets used to be filled with clocks
but now everybody knows what time it is
they all beat to one heart
the heart of the floating world

the world that is floating away
from the dreams of peace and love and ham and eggs
words that were only words
like “adumbration” or :defenestration” or “vladivostok”



Monday, July 24, 2017

golden gate park blues

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"







say goodbye to gypsy dave
long since sunk beneath the wave
as time’s pitiless rush
turns everything to mush

sunshine - white rabbit - blue star -
who knows where they are?
enlightenment they craved
but they could not be saved

brad with his encyclopedia of drugs
and mary with her indiscriminate hugs
albert with his cut down bike
and rudy who nobody really liked

terry who sold flowers in the mission
and leroy who studied the human condition
and jenny with the bracelets on her arms
who was always talking about starting a farm

they came and went so fast
because life is not built to last
and all blur into each other
that’s just how it is, brother

memories get twisted
so maybe they never all really existed
but as my brain cells drift away
i see them all as bright as day



Sunday, July 9, 2017

maybe it's time

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"







maybe it’s time

maybe it’s time, people

time to give up on “civilization” and “progress” and “building a better world”

every generation is snowflakes to the one before

every generation of humans is safer and more comfortable than the one before

and the other creatures of the earth disappear, one million after another

a few are kept safe in zoos

the same zoos humans keep themselves in

but where does it all end?

the humans with their “progress” are digging a pit they will never get out of

must they drag the other inhabitants of the planet down with them?

maybe it’s time

to let the cities crumble

let the highways be overgrown

and the airports be abandoned

and the nuclear power plants be shut down

and the smart phones thrown away

and the grid be shut down

before it is too late

and walk into the sunset

back to the woods

with little red riding hood

and the wolves

and grandma

and cross the rivers and the deserts and the mountains

back to the garden of eden

and the olduvai gorge

and gather at the river

for a nice meal of grubs and roots

and watch the moon come up over the ocean

with our cousins the lemurs and the sharks



Saturday, July 8, 2017

immortal





by brig. gen. percival t sternwall



let the stars fall from the sky
let empires wither and die
though away the heavens roll
i have an immortal soul!

let the skies be filled with thunder
and worlds be torn asunder
and a million trumpets blast
you will not have heard the last

of my spirit as it flies
to a world that never dies
that never doubts and never grieves
the world of those who believe!

o skeptics in your hovels
who before eternity grovel
and crouch in darkness and gloom
there is life beyond the tomb!