Not just a poem (by yours truly), but also a place you can wrap yourself in when the going gets tough.
This place smells “lime.”
7-Up and King Pine
Linoleum polished to lacquer-luster
Brightly colored parrots and feather dusters
Oriental dolls with pretty China faces
Fiber optic filament lamps with ornate bases
Coral-colored curtains with gilded glass tassels
Long nights and daydreams without any hassles
Spanish “serenatas” soaring through the air
Coming from a rich, dark oak record player
It is a room out of time
With a funky retro vibe
This place is carbonated,
Sparkling bubbles, neon signs
Disco balls, vintage wines
Diamond doorknobs and 60’s girl groups
Afros, hopscotch and pineapple juice
This place stays true to itself.
Loud and lovely; garish…glittery.
Bold and bubbly, eclectic and electric
This place can not join the fold
Like the origami cutouts
And conformist centerfolds.
This place is fringe and chandeliers
This place, above all, is sincere.
It’s in my heart, a state-of-mind
And mighty fine.
It will never be more or less
It’s nitty-gritty, at it’s best.
A shade of me
Forever mine to see.
Posted on October 6, 2011, in Poetry and tagged 1960's, 1970's, boho, boho-chic, bohochic, disco, free love, hippie, Motown, poem, poems, poesia, poetry, retro, sixties, Supremes. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.