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The Closing Chapters

What did you do when you were young grandad?


Come and sit down here next to me dear child

I’ll tell you about the days when I was really wild.


I smoked pot, and I smoked weed

I drank lots of alcohol, and other stuff I didn’t need

Romped around without my clothes wrote blank verse, and blanker prose,

And more of both than anybody knows.


Made love with lots and lots of girls… Yep! curious child, loads and loads!


We called it ‘free love’ back in those days

We’d go on benders our minds in a haze.

We had LSD and other mind-altering highs

Spend hours steering blankly at the clouds in the skies


We used to call it tripping, and called everybody ‘man.’

We did exactly what we wanted because in those days you could.

And believe me, we did, me and your Nan.


We used to pluck flowers and place them in our hair

And seek out other hippies, and go to new age fayres

We’d sit around and dance, the music was insane

Pop stars from those days forever will remain.


There not 30-second wonders with no talent and no skill

When I hear them now, they still make me chilled.

I’m transported back in time, to Woodstock, ‘Ban the bomb.’

For we were new-age hippies, me and your Grandmom.


Our Volkswagen camper with its lift-up lid

Under multi-coloured blankets every night we slid

Make Love not war, the slogan of our youth

And telephones were all, in little square red booths.


No mobiles, texts or emails. No #Hashtags or twitter

Life was simple then… No microwave transmitters

No ADHD, no spectrums silly scales

And no inhalers, all irrelevant now… however, truthful these details.


What did I do when I was your age?

How long have you got? It covers many a page.

Of all the things I did and all the things I’ve done

The best moment indeed, was the day your mum met my son.


Always remember this Emelia, my dear… 


“We are stardust; we are golden,

we are billion-year-old carbon”,

Now let us play awhile, dear child.

Dance together, and make daisy chains in the garden.


Grandpa Po.




Ban the BombHippyNew AgePeace & LoveWoodstock

◄ Looking Back

All in all you're just another prick in Whitehall ►


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Wed 14th Oct 2020 22:57

Hi Paul. Been meaning to return your kind comments and welcome note for a while and this poem, of all the ones I have read of yours so far, seems the most apt opportunity. For my dad was an original hippy who is no longer with us and would've loved this poem. I loved it too, although I am not too sure how much is autobiographical or not. I also like to read your comments, in particular your saying the world changed after Sept 11th. This whole discussion is making me very emotional. I look forward tremendously to reading more of your work and conversing about it too. Peace, love and empathy, John

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Paul Sayer

Fri 2nd Oct 2020 18:19

Hi Damon, Thank you for hitting like... Flower Power 😉


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Paul Sayer

Thu 1st Oct 2020 18:37

100% correct V. Woodstock is not a place, it is a state of mind.

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Thu 1st Oct 2020 14:19

Awesome imagery Paul. Takes me to a place in time I’ve always wanted to go. Even though war and civil unrest was happening, a group of people found a way to celebrate peace and love. I used to be a little jealous of those who got to experience Woodstock, all that amazing music, dancing, freedom... but now I realize that we can create our own Woodstock every day, here among friends. Write on! ✌️🤟

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Paul Sayer

Thu 1st Oct 2020 08:29

Hi Vautaw, thanks for another flower to put in my hair 😍Peace & Love girl.

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Paul Sayer

Wed 30th Sep 2020 23:11

Hi Clyde,

I fear for our youngsters future. We had the very best of times mate.


The world has gone mad, what hope do they have?

The WORLD changed after 9 11.

Poets need to document these times.

Grab your pen my friend and write about what is about to unfold and hide it in a time capsule for future generations to see the truth.

Because I see a time yet to come that man could never have dreamt possible. One day perhaps I'll write it.

It will make Orwells 1984 dystopia look like a walk in the park.

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clyde McCulley

Wed 30th Sep 2020 21:09

Wow, great poem brings back so many memories

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Paul Sayer

Wed 30th Sep 2020 20:20

I have made a very profound discovery Steve.

"Insanity is hereditary... You get it from your kids!"

And they think I'm mad.

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Stephen Atkinson

Wed 30th Sep 2020 19:47

I bet she wished she never asked! 😲
Just kidding mate! A wonderful reminisce

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Paul Sayer

Wed 30th Sep 2020 17:54

Those were the days my friends...

For me, they will never end!

Po. 🌈


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