Original digital surreal art: “Stealing Kisses” by: rob kistner © 10/8/24
Author’s Note:
My inspiration for writing “All My Lovin’” was drawn from exploring the record albums of my youth. Also, strangely enough, from a wonderful novel by Peter Heller entitled “The Dog Stars”. It was reinforced by my awoken curiosity, which found me sampling the top 100 hits of 1963, which was the soundtrack for the summer of my 16th year. That landed me solidly on the Beatles. It was the summer of my red ‘62 Chevy, which I traded for my true gem — a ’57 Chevy Bel Air “rag top”. It was my ‘63 Triumph 650 Bonneville motorcycle, my first rock and roll band, and my first “girl” — oh that rush of young love.
Looking back at my early teen years, those years when I was waiting for my life to begin, I flashed on my memories of young love. The intensity of that tender, pure, unrealistic infatuation, could perhaps have happened only then, in those times – in that summer of 1963. Before assasinations, collapsing economies, open social unrest, Viet Nam, before AIDS, COVID-19, rampant drugs, criminal presidents – the year of the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show, the Beach Boys took the world surfing, Annette Funicello playing beach blanket bingo, Ruby promised our day was coming… Chevy ragtops, Triumph Bonnevilles, OpArt, and President Kennedy challenging us to go to the moon. This was a time, maybe the last time, when teens were still blissfully innocent.
I don’t know why that feels true. Perhaps it’s because we were so naive and so unsure as teens, in that post WWll, white-picket-fence, father-knows-best, american-dream, faux-utopia. We were tentative and waiting, wondering. It’s as if love imagined to be that innocent, needed that much room, that much “open” mental space, that much time, that much emotional “safety”, that much unbridled belief, for it to take root, and to bloom – even if but for a brief moment in time.
The not knowing anything really for certain, but hoping, with aching faith in the possibility of pure true love, was both thrilling and unsettling. It was a love full of passion and devotion, but scary. We were not completely certain how to navigate such an emotion, not really, so we left it alone, tried to let it unfold lightly, terrified we would lose it. And if it did manifest, it felt so big and beautiful, and unbelievable! It was most often short-lived, owing to our immaturity, and the fragile combustibility of the feeling – but what intoxicating joy, such heady exhilaration! Those were the times when the apparitional gossamer wings of all consuming young love did fly to the moon, and carried us helplessly, but willingly, along. Here is my poem, “All My Lovin’”…
Strong slender legs
carry firm eager bodies
perfumed and cologne’d
around and across the dance floor
pulses racing
electrified — entwined — excited
young groping lust
craving
yet hesitant
swept up in innocent bliss
shadowed near the band shell
beyond the glow of incandescence
aching for that kiss
swollen with erotic effervescence
throbbing with the big beat
of scorching rock & roll
or drifting on a cloud
of ethereal romance
fantasizing there might be
a chance
hormones afire
in a maddening dance
smoldering for some
longing for more
confusing for most
a pubescent play
beneath a high starry sky
sparking with carnal fantasies
humid as our urgent embraces
hot as our stolen kisses
as forever as our promised love
in that distant
teenage midnight sizzle
stealing kisses
in the drizzle
praying our fragile feelings
our imagined love
would not falter
nor fizzle
such glorious terror…
…sweet ghosts of my youth
haunt from long ago
— The album in 1963 (American release) —
— Me in 1963 —
— My Summer of 1963 —
— My car in 1963 —
*
rob kistner © 2024
More poetry at: dVerse
~ hit parade of 1963 — my first summer of love ~
Nice 57 chevy, Rob. Great poem of nostalgia and love long gone.
Thank you Dwight. I loved that car, but it is long gone. That photo is not of my car, but that is exactly the car I had, and it was in that pristine condition. My rims were different. Mine were Cragar S/S 5-spoke chromes, and I don’t think that is what are pictured here… 🙂
Those beautiful, aching memories giving nostalgia an almost tangible feeling…emotional verse, v nicely done
Thank you Ain. I am touched by the constancy of your kindness friend. Hope all is well with you and yours. I need me a bit of forest-bathing… 😉
What a beautiful testament of love, Rob! Ah, youth!??
Thank you Punam… 🙂
A beautiful capture of the times and the uniqueness of young love! The albums and music flowed throughout this piece so subtly. Love the phrase…”stealing kisses in the drizzle”. I had a listen to “Sukiyaki” and I do vaguely remember it. The music of the 60’s felt so much lighter. We could use a bit of that right now. Thanks for joining in with your poetry and passion for music, Rob.
You are most welcome Mish. As my piece stated, the innocent naiveté of that period of time is no longer embraced, or even readily available, to the info saturated youth of today. I felt the melancholy of the song Sukiyaki the first time I heard it. Even though the title refers to a Japanese beef dish, the song is actually about sorrow and loss, played to a circus like melody. It fascinated me, and was a #1 hit in summer of ‘63.
Those were the days… we do keep those memories though they sometimes haunt us.
Thank you Björn. At this point in life I am glad for any embers of memory still aglow my friend… 🙂
LOVE this! You’ve captured those teenage dances, crushes, hearts beating, innocent lust, etc!!!! And especially with these words:
“teenage midnight sizzle”
Thank you Lil. This broken down old fart would love, for just one night my friend, to feel again the gift that was my youth — and be wise enough to recognize what beautiful, confusing splendor it trulyh was… 😉
They say only a fool wishes to be young again but your nostalgic poem makes a very good case for it, Rob…
I don’t wish to be young again my friend — no thank you… I have worked too long and hard to get this fucked up! 😉 …but it might be nice, just one more time, to feel the power, wonder, and fire of that immaculate innocence. 🙂
Darlene. Darlene Smith. Darlene Smith-Ash.
I ran into her a while back, just bumping our shopping carts at the grocery. She and her wife were visiting Vermont, waiting for wife’s mother to die any day now. Haven’t seen her since High School. Had a pretty hot romance way back when. She’s got her Amy and I’ve got My Beloved Sandra. Things apparently worked out for both of us.
Your piece is stunning. Thanks.
Thank you Ron… 🙂 …hmmm — bumping shopping carts eh… 😉
Such a passionate, passionate write!
Thank you Sanaa… 🙂
The sense of being young in that time and place is palpable, Rob. You’ve captured the sense of bursting with sexuality then and the nostalgia for it.
Thank you Merril. Somethings the heart&soul never forgets my friend, even through the mists of time. 🙂
Memories are sneaky ghosts the way they pop up unexpected and take us through a magical time machine.
Listening to music always puts me in a place of timelessness True… 🙂
Hi Rob, I love this poem. It is so full of energy and you have captured the confusion and turmoil of teen years perfectly. Marvelous!
Thank you Robbie… 🙂
I enjoyed the nostalgia in this poem, Rob, and the energy is palpable! Your dancers almost leap off the laptop screen! These lines sum up the feeling as I remember gigs and concerts:
‘swollen with erotic effervescence
throbbing with the big beat
of scorching rock & roll’.
and I love the phrase ‘teenage midnight sizzle’.
Thank you Kim, pleased you enjoyed this… 🙂
I remember those times as a mixture of anticipation and excitement laced with uncertainty. You also triggered memories of early loves amongst lots of confusion to go with them. The hormonal storm of early sexuality sure made for some crazy behaviour.
Hormoned madness… 🙂