stonerman
Well-Known Member
Hey guys Id like to share a couple amazing poems with you. These poems were written back in the seventies by hippies that didnt want to go to war, Draft dodgers. They moved from the united states up into canada to hide. They built their own shacks and houses and lived in huge hippy communes, They lived out in the woods away from society all along the coast. And these poems describe the life of how they lived, I thought these poems were very touching. Enjoy
We wanted spirituality on other days than Sunday
So we made our homes in shacks and domes on the shores of the Bay of Fundy
We lived in ruins, in huge communes where no one did the dishes
We lived in huts and froze our butts, and fed ourselves on wishes
We lived in shacks and broke our backs to keep ourselves from freezin
We lived on hope and grains and dope and vegetables in season
We needed dough ... so we kneaded dough
And shovelled snow at ten below
We wrote our poems and chanted oms
And canned our food and gardened nude
And planted pot and danced a lot
And tried again and sat zazen
And every spring we threw I Ching
And ran up tabs, and got the crabs
And shared our hope, and shared our dope,
And shared our hearts, and soybean farts ...
We may have gone to one or two extremes
But for a while we shared a couple dreams
North Mountain Crazies by Spider Robinson
We grew our corn, our kids were born, and just as we got started
It all got oldwe all got cold, and one by one, departed
And there may not be a hippie left on the goddam Fundy shore
Or it may be true theres still one or two, but there cant be many more
And we dont write much, but we keep in touch in a casual kind of way
We pass the word, and last I heard we was all gettin by okay
We mostly found our way around the things we were afraid of
The Mountain taught us what we sought: we know now what were made of
Our kids are grown, our ages showin, our memories gettin faint
But Im mighty glad for the times we had, and I wont pretend I aint
The memories will bring me ease when its time to push up daisies
I had my fun: I once was one of the great North Mountain Crazies
North Mountain Crazies
We wanted spirituality on other days than Sunday
So we made our homes in shacks and domes on the shores of the Bay of Fundy
We lived in ruins, in huge communes where no one did the dishes
We lived in huts and froze our butts, and fed ourselves on wishes
We lived in shacks and broke our backs to keep ourselves from freezin
We lived on hope and grains and dope and vegetables in season
We needed dough ... so we kneaded dough
And shovelled snow at ten below
We wrote our poems and chanted oms
And canned our food and gardened nude
And planted pot and danced a lot
And tried again and sat zazen
And every spring we threw I Ching
And ran up tabs, and got the crabs
And shared our hope, and shared our dope,
And shared our hearts, and soybean farts ...
We may have gone to one or two extremes
But for a while we shared a couple dreams
North Mountain Crazies by Spider Robinson
We grew our corn, our kids were born, and just as we got started
It all got oldwe all got cold, and one by one, departed
And there may not be a hippie left on the goddam Fundy shore
Or it may be true theres still one or two, but there cant be many more
And we dont write much, but we keep in touch in a casual kind of way
We pass the word, and last I heard we was all gettin by okay
We mostly found our way around the things we were afraid of
The Mountain taught us what we sought: we know now what were made of
Our kids are grown, our ages showin, our memories gettin faint
But Im mighty glad for the times we had, and I wont pretend I aint
The memories will bring me ease when its time to push up daisies
I had my fun: I once was one of the great North Mountain Crazies
North Mountain Crazies