Altamont’s legacy would stir a troubled boy,
awed by images conjured in mind
In ’69 a free concert ended in chaos, four killed and three born–
remember, life and death so closely intertwined
I fell in love with that boy, whom I called Lies,
once we walked under the stars hand in hand
Remember; trace the flight of scars,
leaving ghostly footprints where feet once danced in sand
Lies promised forever and placed a seed in my belly,
without ever saying “I Do”
The deflowering of Woodstock,
take heed, remember the frenzy of free love askew
So afraid of Lies, his hands are smashing glass,
useless fuckin’ stars, there is not a tear
The band plays, thrashing to rock n’ roll,
hard to remember dropping acid, drinking beer
Firstborn sleep through the rage…for you I remain silent,
hiding has become a way of life
Rage takes hold, remember, Hell’s Angels
beating down the man who died of uncertain strife
I gaze upon Firstborn wonder what if…
no tears, no lies, no hollow where my heart beat
Remember a prayer, so the past may rest of its fears and curses
so that tragedy will not repeat
A backpack slung over one shoulder;
I carry Firstborn under Dipper’s light
Firstborn sleep through the flight of scars…
remember only the softest dreams of night.
Lynn Mari ©2007
Note: Inspired by Ghazal and by the 1969 Altamont Free Concert. I was watching a children’s program on TBN where a child, who was grounded, snuck off to the movies and watched a horror show. When the child’s parents found out, they told him that after watching the show there will be pictures in his mind–things he will not forget, and that they said no to the movie for that reason. This poem is on the same thought as that show…the experiences of a child so often shape who they will grow into, as adults. What a child sees is often replayed in how they act and treat others, even as an adult.
Special thanks to the Poetry Club for your inspiration and advice as I muddled over the first draft!
The beauty you possess is not meant for the eye to see but for the soul to receive. 
