Poetry: Street People (1969) (Jennifer Semple)
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| Jennifer Semple Siegel, 1970 _____________________________ |
Hollywood!
Lights, Cameras,
Action!
Glamor!
B of A
{B of S}
Money!
Movie Stars!
Plastic!
Yea, Plastic,
Phony,
It’s FUCKED!
Sitting
in Front of Wallichs Music City, Listening to Ellen’s Radio
Wallichs
And a Radio?
Hey, Jude…
“Could You Turn It Up?”
Long-haired Freak in a Rent-a-Cop Cap
Impressions
of People
Mik, Little Boy Lost
Jim, Hang Ups
Rick, BASTARD!
Rent-a-Cop, Super Friend
[And Ellen’s Radio]
Cal, Revolution
Denny, Screwed Up Sandal
Stoney, Screwed Up Head
Sadie, Mixed Up
Ellen, Halfway Street Head,
Daddy’s Girl.
About
Jeff
Rent-a-Cop!
Rent-a-Cop?
“Oh?!?
You’re Jeff Too?”
“Yes, I’m a Jeff Too.”
A Girly Jeff -----
A Jewel
Yeah!
Nostalgia
Rent-a-Cop!
Stoney!
The First
Rent-a-Cop
Last
Jeff
Saying He Was Leaving
Please Don’t Go!
“I Have To!”
I’ll Miss You!
And I Did
My
Grandfather Coming to Take Me Away (Ha, Ha)
Oh, Shit
Stoney Split
Dee Dee Came
Took Me Away
“Too Much Dope
Is There Hope?”
Nasty
Told Dee Dee Off
Gave Up Dope
But Missed My Friends
Is There Hope?
Off the Street
Away from Hollywood
Back Home.
Taken Away From Home,
By the County Sheriff.
Unhappy.
Paranoia
Pitty, Pat
Pitty, Pat
“Sh! ----- Be Quiet!”
Silence
4 a.m.
On the Street
Hell, No I.D.
Cop.
“Hi, Cop, I’m 18.”
A Night at the Precinct?
Paranoia
Get Rid of the Shit
He Passes
Pitty, Pat
Pitty, Pat
4 a.m.
On the Street
Nowhere to Crash
“Spare Change, Anyone?”
Dirty Looks
“Dirty Hippie”
Big Whore, But I’m a Virgin!
Paranoia
Hunger
Where are My Friends?
Stoney
Big-Eyed
Stoned
“Hi ----- My ----- N-N-NAME-----
Is ----- ST-O -- N - E - Y
AND ----- I’M
----- STONED!”
Strange,
Far-out
Ha! Ha! -----Laugh!
Ellen: “I Don’t Like Him.”
“Why?”
“His EYES -----”
RAP
RAP
RAP, My Mind is Racing
Everyone’s Annoyed
Stoney Listened.
“I’m Gonna Get Kicked Out”
“Well, We’ll Get a Pad!
“Okay.” Not Really Meaning That!
Listening to Records
-----WALLICHS!
A Black Masque (Mass?)
“Gee, You’re Beautiful.”
Blush
Pitter Patter
Listen to the Sound of Rain.
“Help Me Find Him, Jeff!”
Silence.
“Where is 1348 Waterloo?”
“Silverlake, Young Lady.”
Stoney, Stoned
Began to Mean Something,
A Leather Hat
“Isn’t that Heavy?”
“No, I Don’t Feel It!”
Strobe Light!
Metamorphosis!
And Stoney.
“I Feel Bad When I See
You with Him.”
Didn’t Know What to Say.
Oh, Rent-A-Cop, Wasn’t I Dumb?
San Francisco,
Came Back
Found Rent-A-Cop Gone
“I Feel Lost, Stoney.”
“Yeah ----- Outasite Dude.”
Found a Pad
It Didn’t Last
Stoney Split
And
I’m Glad.
Friendship
You and I, We Walked
You and I, We Talked
“Why Don’t You Get an Old Lady?”
“I’m Still Looking.”
We Could Rap
Rat-A-Tat-Tat
Up and Down the Strip
“Why Can’t We Get a Ride?”
Just Friends
All the Time in the
World!
Never Said,
“I’ll Meet You Here.”
We Just Did!
Griffith Park
Love-Ins
Rapped
I Read Your Mail
We Laughed a Lot
“You’re Special!”
“I Like You!”
Up & Down
“Hold Me Up!”
“What’s Wrong?”
“Spade Cat Gave Me Downers,
And I’m Dizzy.”
So You Did.
Yeah, Friendship Only…
Then
a Funny Thing Happened
Unexpected,
You Feel in Love
I Fell in Love, I Didn’t Know.
“Is it Too Late?”
It Wasn’t
And That Was Great,
I’m in L.A., You’re in
P.A.
28-Hundred Miles Away.
Iowa
Sad
Made It Home
I-o-way
12-Hundred Miles Apart
Closer to You.
The
Institution: The Short Version
January
“I’m All Hung Up ----- I Love You!”
February
Cold ----- Committed.
“Goddamn, I’m NOT a Nut!”
March
“When Do I get Out?”
April
Out ----- Freedom! Alas! Conditional:
“Don’t Leave the State.”
May
Didn’t Listen
You! Out to YOU!
June
“Baby, I Love You in Every
Conceivable Fashion.”
The
Institution: A Longer Version (Street People Redux)
Matron, You Surly Old
Bitch,
Diabolical Mind, Evil is
All You See
A Hearing You Had for Me
“Cherokee, Baby, for You
are Dangerous.
Because You Think for Yourself.”
A Tear, Hidden, I Wanna
be Tough,
A Castle, Haunted, on Top
of a Hill
Creaky Floors, Freaky
People, Still
Lemme out, You Screwy Asses.
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| The Cherokee Mental Health Institute |
And, Then, When All Hope
is Lost
I See a Face, a Shrink,
no Less:
“I’m Doc Favis, at Your
Service, to Get
You Out of This Here Mess.”
Relief, I Feel,
I’m Sane!
Now I’m Sure
And He Knows
Debbi
Ex-Smack Freak
Ultra Friendship
Vicki
Lost Little Girl
In Another World
Cry!
Tears!
Yet Hope!
Bruce
Iowa Head
Guy
Just Friends
Boredom!
Freaks!
Dr. Kjennaas
BLAH!
Donohoe & a Dance
A Stander Upper -----
Lunges Psycho Alfie…
White Coats Swarm,
Peels Him Off Me -----
Wheels the Creeper Away,
Straitjacketed…
Poor Larry
Fainted,
Fell Flat Out.
Tunnels
Winding & Spooky
(Lights Out, Anyone?)
Tisket, A Tasket, & High
Change Around a Sign!
Droopy Drawers Here
And Cautious Curly There.
Wayne’s on the Cough
Syrup
And Went Downtown,
Got Robitussin…
Speed’s Flipped
Got Thrown on 3
Paula Ran
Away with Dan
And
Got Caught Balling
Vicki Sneaked
Red Nail Polish
And Painted a Weed
Got High & Got Freaked
Debbi Laughs
“Ha, Ha,”
Stuck on 3
Hoppy Plays
Most Any Game
And Lets It Be Known
Russ, Lost
Puppy Dog
Follows Me Around
Jail Bait.
Hid Some Matches Down My
Bra
And, Please -----
Don’t Tell!
They’re for My Weeds.
Cigarette Coils on the Walls -----
Don’t Like Them at All.
A Letter from Jeff
Oh, Happy Day!
“Just to Say, ‘I Love You,’
Can’t Wait Until You’re Out!”
A Stapler in Mid-Air
Visions of 3…
A Snide Remark:
“Benson, You Ail Me.”
“Do Things the Right Way.”
“No, I’ll Do It My Way.”
Spring!
Green Grass
& Swiped Fig Newtons,
A Picnic on a Rolling
Hill!
Spring Me from Here!
Went to Dance
In My Pajamas?
It’s Okay -----
In the Right Place!
Staff
& Curious Eyes:
“Fine Job, Young Lady -----
Soon to be Sprung”!
A Lot is Happening…
And One Day -----
A Biker
Slouches By,
Shuffling.
On His Lip, Hangs a Weed
(A Whiff of Reek).
Up the Hill, Flanked
By Two White Coats,
Hangdog Hair,
Rheumy Eyes -----
Going Down
Cherokee Hill,
I Slip Past
Toward the Greyhound,
Coming to Take Me Away
From Cherokee…
Finally.
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| The Cherokee Mental Health Institute Grounds |
Note: Nestled among some of my old papers, I found “Street People (1969),” a narrative poem, written shortly after I was released, in May 1969, from the Cherokee Mental Health Institute. I was 18, and I didn't care if I wrote bad poetry. I just wanted it to BE.
For more clarity, I have made some minor
2023 tweaks.
Though deeply flawed, “Street People
(1969)” exudes youthful angst and describes my experience when it was still fresh
emotionally and mentally.
Almost 50 years later, I would write Memoir
Madness: Driven to Involuntary Commitment, published in 2013, and available here.
My memoir offered the advantages and
disadvantages of passing time.
Advantages: to jog memory, old letters
between my ex-husband Jeff and me; the internet (easy research); and maturity
-- an ability to see other sides of my story, especially that of my
grandparents (who raised me).
Disadvantages: a spotty and selective
memory; a reluctance to reveal my incarceration in a public arena (especially
to my son); and possible roadblocks (family, old friends, and Jeff, who, in the
end, turned out to be supportive).
I post this early poem because it captures not only my youthful experience but also a glimpse into the culture of pre-Woodstock 1969. As such, some of the language might not be appropriate to 2023 sensitivities, for example, my reference to a young Black man as a “Spade Cat.” I decided to let it stand as a testament to the times and to recognize that language is forever changing. In 2023, I would never refer to a young Black man with such a pejorative term. But in the counterculture of 1969, this term was acceptable.
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“Street People (1969)” (Haiku), © copyright 1969 - present, by Jennifer Semple [Siegel], may not be reprinted or reposted without the express permission of the author.
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