Poetry – John

John

The vibe died.

Peace had no chance.

We lacked the imagination.

War was over,

If we wanted

But we preferred stagnation.

We cold turkeyed

On jealousy and greed

Playing mind games instead of love.

We had nine dreams

All across the universe

With missiles from above.

Instead of starting over

Wanting some truth

We put ourselves in isolation.

It’s time to break out,

Get out of the bag –

For instant karma across the nation.

Opher – 9.10.2020

It was John’s birthday today. He would have been eighty. Half his life he never had. The Beatles getting back together – we were deprived of.

He and Yoko decided to use his fame and her performance art to promote peace.

They used whatever means they could, bags, beds, acorns, to convince world leaders that there were better ways. War was bad.

This was as the Vietnam War was still raging.

They were scorned, pilloried and abused, hounded and pressured, threatened and despised.

I think it drove him to drink and out of music for a while.

Yes, he became fey and affected, but he was a force for moral good and someone who tried.

I miss him.

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