I have been lurking around the site for a while now. Webby just got my account fixed last night and here I am. I just wanted to say hello. I am a 29 year old small business owner. My wife is a beat poet that just happened to be born, again, in the wrong generation. We should have been born a couple generations before we were. I have always been intrigued by the era and I am here to learn and share. I hope to meet some interesting people. Just a lil bit about me. BE-IN
why thank you my man. lookiong forwardd to BE-IN around. Hoping I meet some good peeps through this post
welcome you & your wife wernt born too late..you were born right at the right time cause the hippy era will never endas long as new hippies are born every day judst lok at how many 13-16 yr old hippies join every day..doesnt that just giveya a lil hope for the future? welcome & have fun
Thanks for the wonderful welcome. I just thought that I would post a pic to let you guys get an idea of who u were chatting with. The wife and I have been married for 1 1/2 years. we have known each our entire lives. We are very open in our lives. especially sexually. we live in the bluegrass state in the US. Looking to meet like minded people. Thanks again
that is a killer photo in you signature 206. Huge Marley fan here. We have a Jack russel dog name marley joplin. nice to meet ya
Welcome. Be sure ot let us read some of your wife's poetry, if she'll let us have a peak. Just read The Beat Hotel(Barry Miles). It's about Ginsberg, Burroughs, and Corso in Paris. Pretty good. There are some other fans of beat here as well. I'm new here also. angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night
welcome to you.....i hope that you enjoy this site. and you will meet some very interesting and positive people here....
man! oh man! oh man! I have never typed the first part of Howl and then had someone carry it on. I love this place already. tahnks again for making the welcom warm. who poverty and tatters and hollow eyed and huigh sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz.
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated Maybe we should move the whole thing to poetry and pretend we wrote it. Just for a day?
oh if only i had written it. who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war
