Poetry – We used to be cool

We used to be cool

We used to be cool

But now we’re cold

Used to be hot

But we done got old.

We used to be hip

Riding the crest

But I guess we fell off

When our hips went west.

We used to be with it

Daddy-o

Now it’s our hair

That’s all go go go.

We used to be fab

And groovy too

Now we’re just sad

Me and you.

We could crawl off and die?

But what’s the point?

It’s not so much joints and hip

As hip joint.

Opher 15.4.2015

We used to be cool

Being cool. What’s that about? Some people just are and some people never could be. It’s not so much fashion and style as attitude.

Kerouac in his lumberjack shirt and jeans was supercool.

Miles Davis had it.

But Michael Jackson was just a showbiz phenomenon.

To be cool is to be locked in to the flow of the universe, the cosmic dynamo – to have the energy flow straight through you – to be an individual. There are no trends when you’re cool. You just is. You be.

Back in the 50s it was the American blacks who were supercool. They set the pace for the hipsters. They wanted to live, to go and to hit into the energy of life. They had nothing to buy into, nothing to lose; theirs was the ultimate freedom.

The Beats sucked into that energy – go, go, go – the jazz, the wailing sax.

The Rockers tasted a different beat and rocked.

The Hippies dropped out and grooved.

The Punks wanted to tear it down.

The moment the fashions and styles were born they were dead. All the trendies jumping on the wave as if it was fashion. It wasn’t. It was life. There was no part-time life.

But then you see what you have become.

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