Category Archives: Belfast

SIXTIES Belfast

East Belfast you are in my blood

You with your sectarian turmoil

I could never get

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Mine is just an ordinary memory

A childhood spent

As it could only have been

[A stable home provided]

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I did play my cowboy games

On the green green grass of home

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Sliding up in height

Into the Sixties era

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And all the false hope it gave – seeming so grand

Getting branded with the sixties brand

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Oh hippiedom! – half adopted by me

We sired you when we had the time

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And espoused with lip service

Your so called freedom

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Yet emotions rose in the music then

Telling us all was well

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Turn on – tune in – drop out

Whatever did that mean?

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‘Cause our Sixties was the Belfast kind

After all – we still had to work

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Parents guided – to ‘serve your time’

And get a bank balance of some kind

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But America – do you answer for a lot?

As your philosophies were bought by us

‘Dyeing’ them a different colour

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Also imitating Beatle-ish young men

Stones apart and Dylan-esque outlooks

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All paid their dues

To give us hero’s full of flaws

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But now I think of

Those streets I walked

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Into the town we did go

Posing –

but our pose was with a watchful eye

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Looking out for the bad guys

Who didn’t ‘get’ the bell-bottoms

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Was it youth’s exuberance that

Gave the Sixties it’s smile

Our did the Sixties give us ours?

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Was it the generated utopia?

All make-believe – within

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As pop-till-you-drop

Was lost along the way

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I had mates

And we three

Stuck together

like supportive crutches

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A duet, a trio, or alone

At different seasons

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At times

Striking-out individually

Looking for adventure

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As pubs were crawled-around

And new friends found

With secret language

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We knew them

“Hey man!” and two

fingered peace

All (minus the bad) –

Was not so bad

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Looking back – can’t go back

Looking forward – can go forward

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Sixties gone

The drug man – now gospel man

Told me he would relive the Sixties

As he missed them first time round

in the drug haze

Sixty-two – to Sixties he has returned

Sixties of a different kind

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I draw my pen to a close

‘Cause that nostalgic streak

Must be put away for the day

It’s only the wanderings of

An older man

You are too young to understand?