Art Music Poetry #94

Cartoon face from fourth grade reviited

Cartoon face from fourth grade revisited

To Be Human


is to fall in love over and over,

to never give up on any of them,

to cry for the inhumanity, and try to

overcome all that surrounds us by creating

a closeness with those in proximity, both

geographical and philosophical.  It is to

carry those loves in our heart, flooding our

minds no matter how gone they are.  And

to put others’ needs first, understand their

flaws, work on our own so we can be

better helpers.  It is to take it all in and

follow our dreams no matter how preposterous;

to pull apart another brown paper bag and

to write it all out, no matter how choppy.

So take my hand and make it all better

before I repeat the painful parts until

I can no longer act.  To struggle past

obstructions and obligations, self imposed and

expected; to wallow in joy, build strength and

change what we can for the better. To live, to give.



You started such a change of time,
A decade of evolution.
Marakesh blows through my mind,
An awareness revolution.

Richie cries the song of the free,
Carlos plays to open masses.
Looking back I see
A crossbreading of the classes.

Thousands swarmed and felt the rain,
Jimi let it flow.
Sly gave soulful tears of pain,
Will we ever know?

As water cuts through stone,
Time cuts the best of men,
But Ravi, not alone
Would do it all again.

Beautiful people, ‘oft insane,
Birthdays come and go,
Staying dry against the rain,
Peace-songs make the show.

Surprising unknown acts
Made their way around.
Who are you? – Rats?
Listen to the sound.

The Who was most excited,
Getting all the glory.
Abbey, uninvited,
Tried to tell a story.

Pinball wizards filled the crowd,
Beside the acid heads.
Psychedelics made it loud,
John sang for new-born deads.

Muddy fun-wars ’round the lake
And the music of Alvin Lee.
Jamming out for Jesus sake!
Goin’ home, (the blues are free).

Ten years after Woodstock,
Will it ever be the same?
Maybe I should stop
This agonizing game.

Sha-Na-Na sold out to movies,
But Johnny Winter was there.
Playing his slide – groovy
Nothing there was square.

Max Yasgur we all owe you,
For your business-sense and balls.
No one else will repeat
“The concert without walls.”

Grace found somebody to love,
Rock was a way of thinking.
Joe got extremely stoned,
Everyone was drinking.

Janis screamed for rebels,
War-torn lovers tripped.
Joan sang out for politicos
Draft dodgers got ripped.

Vietnam was going strong
But music filled the field.
No way to right the wrong
Committed by the steel.

Where have all the players gone?
Long time passing.
Joni sings of Mingus
But is she, just now, laughing?

Give me one old-time “F”
And what are we fighting for!?
There’s nothing really left,
Let’s boogie on out the door.

Creedence and the Grateful Dead
Gave us Blood Sweat and Tears.
The Band played on (unsaid)
Has it been ten years?

Butterfield sang the blues,
I guess he’s still around.
They’ve all paid the dues,
But where can they be found?

Try, just a little bit harder,
To remember all those dreams.
Make up your mind,
Are they what they seem?

One day there will re-occur
The same type of happening.
Get it while you can,
If you go to such a thing.

Now I wonder what will come
The next time out the door.
Will the rain be as sun,
Will it be a bore?

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1979. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.