Hippie Grandad
Nutty banana milkshakes
The smell of Lilac and Gardinia
Clean air
Clean man
Hippie Grandad
Green grass, fresh fruit
Long strands of curly hair
Crazy cool
Crazy man
My Hippie Grandad
Tie dye shirts, Ripped jeans
Not scared of getting older
Young spirit
Tender man
Loving Grandad
Organic life, outspoken soul
Rusty bike, dirty Keds
Open mind
Wise man
Was my Hippie Grandad...
poem by Annamaria Jara
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Related quotes
An angel came one afternoon
An Angel came one afternoon.
A visit hedid pay.
That Angel took my grandad.
And tore my hart away.
So loving and loved.
He was.
I miss him so very much.
My best friend.
I truly loved my Grandad.
Honestly I did.
More than words can ever say.
Lord why did that Angel come.
And take him away?
The answers I will not know.
For it was Your chosen way.
I know my Grandad is in heaven.
Safe in your arms I pray.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Hippie Girl (full Song)
whe you express your mind
youre so smart and kind
i dont know any line
when im next to you all i can say is i feel fine
when you are with me
i hope you never leave me
because ill never find someone like you
that likes all the things that i do
youre the only one who thinks like me
and i will always try to agree
you know i need you and you need me
hippie girl ill find you
hippie girl i really need you
i need to talk about love peace and war
i need to talk to you and also see you more
hippie girl i look for you
hippie girl i really need you
i need to talk to you about music and poetry
i need you youre the only one that understands me
hippie girl noone like you
hippie girl always so true
hippie girl ideas so new
hippie girl hear so tru
ill listen to you and always be missing you
ill find you and never leave you
poem by Gabriel Martinez
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The Grandad
I look over to my son laughing playing not a care,
Comes running when hurt or scared
running to me
But as time goes by I start to notice
His son running laughing not a care
Comes running to his dad my son when hurt or scared
into those same arms which were once wrapped around my legs
with full might which gave the feeling of father
Young working respected
But when i see that young boy i feel...
old useless the grandad
THE GRANDAD
poem by Donal Moran
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Old Age Doesn't Come Alone... Not At 53
Where does it come from old age
I took my family grandchildren included
To the beach today only to find out
That people who are unfit are excluded
Not to say I didn't try to reach the beach
'Come on Grandad! ' shouted my boys
But grandad was too ill for the beach to reach
So sat on an old wooden bench and viewed from afar
The shenannigans of my daughter playing in the surf
Made me so envious to be young again.
But I'm only fifty three with a heart of ninety
So thus it must remain until the hospital sort my problems
Without good odds I have been informed
My passing may be sooner rather than later
But I'd rather a day of running on the beach and my heart burst
Than to have to hear my grandchildren shout once again
'Come on grandad last one there is a rotten egg! '
poem by Craig Anderson
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Always Hate Hippies
You are a hippie
You smell like skunk
I'm your arch-enemy
A middle class punk
Get out
Get a life
Get a job
Everyone's smoking grass
Everyone is an ass
Can't you afford to cut your hair?
Cause Frank and I will cut it off for free
Never trus a hippie
They'll sell you bad drugs
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unseated At Clent
When Grandad fell off the horse
everyone laughed,
spluttering the event
into family history.
No-one was hurt,
nothing damaged
but his pride.
After all that time,
to be unseated
and made to eat his words
garnished with embarrassment!
If it had happened
forty years earlier,
he would have known about it,
trapped in No-Man's Land
with bullets flying,
and no-one would have been there
to laugh
when Grandad fell off the horse.
poem by Len Webster
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Grandad and Hannah
Oh how he loves Hannah
It surely does show
From the top of her head
To her tee-niney toes.
She'll sit on his lap
And won't she be glad
When he asks who she loves
She can say 'You Grandad! '
Then Hannah leans over and gives Burb a kiss
But makes sure it's something that Grandad won't miss
It's part of the game
To taunt and to tease him
But deep in her heart
She knows it to please him
Then Grandad looks wounded
'Don't waste kisses! ' he'll shout
'Save 'em all up for me! ', then he puffs up and pouts
But she giggles and gives him a sweet sideways glance
Revealing the love that makes his heart dance
And we round the table can just watch with wonder
'Cause their love is stronger than lightning or thunder
Written by Sara Fielder © 1996
NOTE: This poem was written about my father in law and his niece Hannah when she was 2 years old.
poem by Sara Fielder
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Grandad Played The Banjo
When my grandadpassed away-He left his old banjo to me-He played it unti hiis death-At the age of eighty-three-One of my fondest memories-Was hearing my grandad play-Old-time songs on his banjo-At the end of a summer day-Often on a balmy evening-Grandad brought his banjo to play-Daddy joined in with his guitar-And we passed the time away-We gathered on the back porch-Sometimes neighbors would stop by-Often there was some singing-Of pretty songs by our granny Di.
poem by Joy Thacker
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I grew up in a hippie commune so I have a real hippie part of me.
quote by Patricia Arquette
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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He left today
My grandad left me to day.
The angels took him home.
Its said god picks the best.
I guess thats true.
My grandad went home to day.
He left to soon.
Now I have an ocean of tears.
He floats on a cloud.
He shines with the stars.
And he sings with the angels.
He shines in my darkest hour.
I feel his spirt near.
Its like hes always near.
I miss him, his warmth and his love.
Most of all I miss his way of being.
I miss his bight smile more.
I always feel him near.
I swear I his voice in the wind.
I feel his presence around as dawn turns to dusk.
Its like he never really went away.
Although he may not be on earth.
He will always be in my heart.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Handbags & Gladrags
(michael dabo)
Ever seen a blind man cross the road
Trying to make the other side
Ever seen a young girl growing old
Trying to make herself a bride
So what becomes of you my love
When they have finally stripped you of
The handbags and the gladrags
That your grandad had to sweat so you could buy
Baby
Once I was a young man
And all I thought I had to do was smile
You are still a young girl
And you bought everything in style
Listen
But once you think youre in youre out
cause you dont mean a single thing without
The handbags and the gladrags
That your grandad had to sweat so you could buy
Sing a song of six-pence for your sake
And take a bottle full of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds in a cake
And bake them all in a pie
They told me you missed school today
So what I suggest you just throw them all away
The handbags and the gladrags
That your poor old granddad had to sweat to buy
They told me you missed school today
So I suggest you just throw them all away
The handbags and the gladrags
That your poor old granddad had to sweat to buy ya
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The tragic words
I hated the words I was hearing.
But I had to be told.
My beloved grandad was dying.
Cancer was about to take his life.
I didnt want to listen To the words.
I knew That his life would soon end.
I hated this cruel way of life.
I dispised realaity it cut like a knife.
He lived nine months too short.
He left a life time of love.
I didnt get chance to goodbye.
That was probaly just aswell.
I never could of said good bye.
I hate cancer it proved to be fatal.
It took away something good.
I hated the words I was hearing.
I didnt want to hear the truth.
Now my Grandad has gone.
to the skies above to be angel.
And shine in the darkest hour.
He left a few years ago.
It feels like yestaurday.
Time soon flys.
But all is not that bad.
He left good behind him.
He left a legacy of love.
But most of all he left wonderfall memories.
To be treasured forever.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Go, Hippie
Go, hippie
Skip down the old road
Dont even see me, do you at all
Some days you get so tired of hanging
Trying to deep-fry all your boredom
Big hippie
The day was so slow
And I can see you feel it too
Sometimes you wish you knew karate
Oh, the things that you could, like
Crossing in between greens
Just because you want to
Not because you ought to
Oh, how can you ever explain
They can never feel your pain
Neither can you
Mr. crabtree
Sits in the window
He sees a lot, but he dont know
That was you across the yard
Throwing brownies at his car
Sweet hippie
Keeping your head low
Around the car park you swing low
Some days it all falls down around you
Some days you fall down in the snow, while
Crossing in between greens
Just because you want to
Not because you ought to
Oh, how can you ever explain
They can never feel your pain
Neither can you
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Dont Smell Like Freedom!
'hippies, nuts, and the like...'
i went from hippie
to blue collar Joe
to respected businessman...
from renegade,
to family man,
church, and community.
and it took
getting ran over
by the corporate train,
to bring me back to myself!
primordial, raw, honest,
knocked down, get up,
hand in hand...
heretic, sacred dance,
moment to moment...
and walking the hallowed streets
of America... let me tell you,
it dont smell like freedom!
call me hippie, far left, socialist,
whatever the hell you like...
i call it demanding dignity,
and i will not back down!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where’s Grandad
The hearse had been booked at the Co-op
for the Friday before the Goose Fair.
We paid for a top notch send off,
with a carriage and six to bear.
The hearse was well behind schedule
on the morning we were burying grandad.
The wind was howling and the sky was dark,
and it began to rain quite bad.
The coffin lay on the front room table
with the flag and white lilies on top.
My dad was anxiously twitching the curtains
until he saw the carriage and horses stop.
It had finally arrived to take grandad
to his resting place in the ground.
Six solemn bearers came into the house
and they never made a sound.
In the hearse they carefully placed the coffin,
then returned to their seating places.
But then they galloped off down the street
leaving us with rain soaked faces.
We ran to our cars and tried to catch up,
but the traffic lights didn’t go our way.
The next time we saw the shiny oak coffin
was by the grave, with the vicar about to pray.
Under umbrellas we gathered and watched
as the coffin was slowly lowered down.
Well after all that it didn’t turn out so bad,
except that we were at the burial of a Mrs Brown.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Last Blizzard
The last blizzard was pretty harsh
Couldn’t get out I almost got fired
It’s a good thing I have a sweet smile
The good ol’ bossing took me back
I got stuck at home bored and half dead
Decided to take my bird out for a drive
The ice is slick but not really a threat
Hah! Can’t blame Bush for keeping them out
Like a damn foreigner not used to snow
Kept on driving slip-slidin’ away saying ya’y
Suddenly an old hippie van came crashing in
My bird is no match for the giant buffalo’s chin
An old hippie guy came out of the van
Long hair macho dude looks like Doc
Like a Cinderella story a cute cop came
Rescued me from a not nice spanking
poem by Kay Barcelon
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swift sparkling water
splashes its way down the river
the way grandad sings away
his blues each night
in his bath
tanka by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Hippie Dream
Take my advice
Dont listen to me
It aint paradise
But it used to be
There was a time
When the river was wide
And the water came running down
To the rising tide
But the wooden ships
Were just a hippie dream
Just a hippie dream.
Dont bat an eye
Dont waste a word
Dont mention nothin
That could go unheard
cause the tie-dye sails
Are the screamin sheets
And the dusty trail
Leads to blood in the streets
And the wooden ships
Are a hippie dream
Capsized in excess
If you know what I mean.
Just because its over for you
Dont mean its over for me
Its a victory for the heart
Every time the music starts
So please dont kill the machine
Dont kill the machine
Dont kill the machine.
Another flower child goes to seed
In an ether-filled room of meat-hooks
Its so ugly
So ugly.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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excerpt from Zorba the Greek
'What is your favorite dish, grandad? '
'All of them, my son. It's a great sin to say this is good and that is bad.'
'Why? Can't we make a choice? '
'No, of course we can't.'
'Why not? '
'Because there are people who are hungry.'
I was silent, ashamed.
My heart had never been able to reach that height of nobility and compassion.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cleveland Hippie 2003
Cleveland Ohio I went to
in 2003 yes indeed,
with a turtle named Toledo,
named after an Ohio city.
Stayed at an artist hippie's
House who painted
Marilyn Monroe,
left my props at Hippie's sisters that
were for my Birthday show.
Artist hippie smoked pot
and thought I was really hot,
so wanted me to stay,
but I said “no way,
I’m on to Florida
the sunshine state.'
So he dreamed about me
with an elephant baby,
I told him in the dream
“baby elephant talks and flies”
but he thought I was crazy,
but baby elephant dream
kept showing up more than all the time,
he figured I'ld get rich when he finally did analyze.
Now artist’s sister still has
One of my CD’s,
it’s about Razel and
her evil boyfriend Freddy.
Now I did get most of my
Show props back,
some left behind,
because other friend
went through town real fast.
I really did see Cleveland
like Lake View Cemetary,
where it was gigantic
and very scary
Went to the Rock Hall of Fame,
where Cleveland said Rock was heard
there first was their claim.
Since then I went through Ohio state,
but not through Cleveland which
makes Ohio the state so great,
maybe next time at another later date.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.18,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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