living self portrait

This epic poem is dedicated to my departed comrade and most influential poetry mentor on my style of words, Dino (Constantine Pantazonis).  Dino was the first to ask why I used the tilde  ~  and then thereafter encouraged me to do so even the use of it with my writing name ( ~Keith Alan Hamilton~ ).  Dino your living self portrait through poetic word and imagery will always be vivid in my mind.  Peace out !

I’m this living self portrait
not painted to be hung on
some wall
imprisoned as a piece
of exhibited art
on display
as a corpse ……    rotting alive
in a tomb of days gone by
I’m the Mona Lisa reborn
again and again
as she was
through the ingenious eye
of da Vinci
never am I finished
while the spirit of life
flows the breath of oxygen
~    intelligently
about a receptive mind
perceptively guiding the hand
embodied with the gift of empathy
boldly stroking
every facet of color
as this unique blend of creativity
intermingled with
word and imagery ……   etching out
the total human experience
with its pay your dues
character lines
the mark of a spiritual existence
not only on the face
but tattooed
on every inch of the body
like the use of the tilde   ~
and the dotted line …..
in a newly written
epic poem  ~   giving honor
to a poetry mentor
named Dino
despite the norm
all to enhance the expression
of a mystically
artistic soul
as this living self portrait

peace out

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

This epic poem will be a part of the April edition that’s a collaboration by the 2015 Poetry Posse  – The Year of the Poet II published by Inner Child Press.  Buy your monthly copy Here: http://www.innerchildpress.com/the-year-of-the-poet.php

stand up and be heard

stand up and be heard
or just sit down
and wilt away
like the flower
’cause the vase went dry
of water……
the silence of winter
sets in
sounds of life
are muted
by the weight
of fresh snow
as the last petal
falls without resistance
to the floor  ~
~ stand up and be heard
speak of resolution
and reveal the way to peace
then like
the flight of a dove
across the majestic sky
on the morning
that gives birth to spring
an uplifting sense
of enlightenment ~
wisdom
and new growth
will be experienced
through the spirit of
empowerment   ~
enbetterment  ~
the loving
and eternal intent
that’s rooted deeply
within the nobility
of well-spoken
meaningfull  ~  words

stand up and be heard

peace out

Words by   ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

This poem will be a part of the April edition that’s a collaboration by the 2015 Poetry Posse  – The Year of the Poet II published by Inner Child Press.  Buy your monthly copy Here: http://www.innerchildpress.com/the-year-of-the-poet.php

damn eyeglasses

those damn eyeglasses
those ugly one’s I had to wear
around the fourth grade or so
which not only made me shy
but robbed me of my smile
with weakened eyesight
I still hear the doctor say
frankly to my mother,
“your son is nearsighted”
not to fret or worry one bit
he had the trick to fix me
those CORRECTIVE LENSES   ~
those lenses worked alright
and yet those black rimmed
bigger seeming than my head
some kind of plastic framed
monstrosity worn only by
me this alien from Mars
caused me to feel all
googly eye conscious
becoming thereafter
my self-consuming focus
like smitten with leprosy
during my young existence   ~
now when I see those pictures
taken of me long ago
no matter how well
I’ve done since then in life
so ever briefly it may last
childlike feelings reemerge
if I didn’t get those
damn eyeglasses,
just maybe then
somehow, someway
I’d not been so shy
I’d been more confident
with myself and my abilities
girls would of liked me more
sports I was pretty good,
maybe I’d been really great
then quickly as it started
this mental lapse
down memory lane
the flashback is over
I suddenly jolt back
from the ever so sweet
melancholy had
through reliving it all again

peace out

Words by   ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

I’m a wannabe writer/poet

I’m a wannabe writer/poet
why wannabe
you might ask
‘cause I want to be able to write
create, no matter
if its prose or poetry
throughout my whole life
it’s in my blood,
my spirit
my soul’s genetic disposition
to not only write
but to also share what I write   ~
I’m a self-published writer/poet
why self-published
you might ask
‘cause I so choose to do so
not for the fame
or gaining some fortune
it’s all about the way of sharing
sharing it with everyone
over the internet
so it’s freely accessible to all
uniquely through my style
divvied up
according to my jurisdiction

I’m a wannabe writer/poet, self-published over the internet at my web sites; ‘cause as a mystic individualist and artist, I ‘want to be’ able to write and then share my words with those I want; doing so freely as possible throughout my entire life; despite if whether governmental politics, some intellectual, organization, a business or collective movement deems my words as being fit or not.

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

poets critiquing

poets critiquing poetry
poets critiquing other poets
some poets choose to critique
together, the poet
and the poem
written by the poet
what the hell,
whatever,
I understand
some say,
if a poet shares poetry
especially publicly,
they gotta have thick skin
or don’t share at all
ok, point given
point taken for consideration
however,
don’t ever
someone dare
even question
the intent,
the motive
behind those poets
who critique
poetry and/or poets
regardless,
if after a time
following and reading
the critiquing poet’s critiques
after awhile,
their intent,
their motive,
the tone
and the trend behind
that critiquing poet’s
underlying character
is revealed as not genuine
but self-serving
despite what they have said
or proclaimed
their reasoning to be
at these times,
the poet
who critiques and the poet
who is critiqued
have become the same
both are found
to be on equal ground
both are now fair game
why so,
might be
rightly asked
‘cause no matter
whether the critiquing poet
or the critiqued poet
critiquing the intent behind
the critiques of the
critiquing poet
all that is said
fall under the guise
the personal bias
of self-interpretation
even if, yes
others take up
stand with
one side or the other
this mutual support
at the end of the day
becomes nothing more than
just plain old
interpretation by the gang
only finding merit
some girth or worth
through the weight
called social pressure
collusion of evidence
that fateful
pious rule by majority
where nothing else
other than
take that or leave it
we won through numbers
so get used to it
is learned
and the creative growth
within the individuality
the artistry
uniquely representing
the artist
as related
to the critiqued poet
and the critiqued poetry
becomes stymied
slowly malnourished
through the negativity
bestowed by
public chastisement
rather than the positivity
gained overtime through
constructive encouragement
formulated upon
heartfelt and genuine intent

A poet writes then shares what’s written, hopefully learning from hearing the reaction to what was wrote; also gleaning insight about those who read what was wrote, who in turn learn something about their predisposition by the way they reacted to what was written.

peace out

Words by   ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

one of supple co-existence

the self as an individual
is born with genetic traits
along with inheriting
a family culture with tradition
thereafter the individual
is subjected to influence
experiencing a socially
embedded programming
societal interactions
emerge a co-creative process
rules, ethics, etiquette
and so forth bestow guidance
a pattern of behavioral psyche
for the individual to follow

and yet guidance
from society’s co-creative process
restricts, limiting the full motion
regarding the individual
where the activities of nationhood
often outweigh, given primacy
over the individual acts of self-hood
arguably as far as society
a very sensible perspective
one that has to be concerned
for the welfare of society as a whole
civility being sustained overall
is pertinent to societal stability

but yet guidance
from society’s co-creative process
as to the outlook of the individual
needs to remain flexible
seemingly it’s wise
not to let the novelty of individuality
it’s creative variability
to become buried in the mix
societal inflexibility
as to individuality brings rigidity
disturbing overall
the social assemblage of relations
adaptability to fluctuating conditions
will begin to become inhibited

individuality begets spontaneity
which in turn obliges changing needs
variety in individual notion and ideal
keeps society vibrant and durable

the promotion of individuality
is important to society as a whole
collectivity and individuality
each perform roles
beneficial to social existence
our rationale as to the priority
given to either
may depend on perception
and yet time and circumstance
can dictate which gets more emphasis
relying more on one over the other
tends to force eventual adjustment
seemingly the interplay between
collectivity and individuality
within human society
is one of supple co-existence

peace out

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

humans have a way

humans have a way about them
despite what the naysayers say
in spite of the doomsayer’s claim

humankind has learned to cope
deal with it, live with it and then
live on through the circumstance

humanity will realize it’s the time
it’s now really time to get it done
join as one, overcome and go on

humans have a way about them
a way to get going when needed
and this way to adapt to survive

As a human, I turn a deaf ear to the naysayer, that doomsayer and the finger pointer casting blame in condemnation of past deeds solely to fill humanity with guilt and shame; overall in my opinion, humans are doing the best they can, learning as they stumble along in life by way of past actions and deeds; maybe not to the liking of some, who seemingly bellow their dismay as judge to intellectually or sanctimoniously elevate themselves above the ignorant and defiled peoples; as far as I see it as a common everyday person, humanity should not have to feel guilt, feel as evil for coming to be, wanting and trying to survive with the essential purpose to live and then learning no matter how long it takes to live on.

peace out

Words by   ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

preordained metaphorically

the eagle came to me
at Lake Winnipesaukee
although
far from the sea
like the eagles did
and still do
in the salt water inlets
of Cape Breton
perceived at that time
through the romance
of my Scot-Irish
recollections
that embody
wind filled hills
along a rocky
and gravel
kind of sand
coastline
very similar
to the homeland
easterly
the indigenously
referred to …..
by the idiomatic
across the pond   ~
the beauty of the eagle’s flight
at this particular
moment
as reflected
in the shimmering
cool waters
so familiar   ~   throughout
Thanksgiving week
in northern New Hampshire
a fish suddenly falls prey
to the forceful grip of talons
pale yellow
void of innocence
without hardly
a splash ……
…..    death
arrives confidently
and then this
seemingly
fated victim
is lifted rudely
silent of proper prayer
yet eerily
with gracefulness
up into the air
where aptly
whisked away
to a horizon
obscured
as if preordained
metaphorically
by a misty
shrouded sky

peace out

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

sinus infection

fuckin’ sinus infection
pestering me
again
and again
throughout the year
this bug   ~
having no mercy
~    invades
my nasal passage
overloading me
with mucus
causing me to sneeze
and wheeze
plugging my ear ways
giving me a headache
making my eyes itch
~    all due to
infectiously
sticking
it’s sickening
germ
into me
~ ~
fuckin’ sinus infection
similarly acting
like that damn mosquito
trapped within the dark
of my bedroom
circling and buzzing
~    endlessly
around my head
while I cry out for sleep
I haphazardly
swat about   ~
pathetically
missing it
‘cause of my lightless
surroundings
and yet   ~   in spite of
my diminished state
~    it does persist
taking advantage
of the opportunity
without hesitation
or somehow inhibited
by a guilty conscience
relentlessly   ~   it goes
hovering and seeking
for that right spot
to violate me
sucking my blood
leaving with me
its dismal affect
as if some vampire
lusting for the high
had from the junky fix
~ ~
fuckin’ sinus infection
if only   ~   if only
when catching you
I could kick your ass
as you   ~   as you
continually do mine

peace out

Words by ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

the correlation ~

as a poet   ~   I fear not
the rejection
for not attaining
a certain measure
of celebrity
among the people
as if the north star
taking center stage
shining far more brightly
than any other
celestial body
way   ~   way up in the sky
~    however
I do fear
as a person
who writes words
the loss suffered
to humanity
if artistic creations
like my style
of poetic words
must take on
a secondary role
to me   ~   the creator
~    wherefore
standing silently
within my shadow
awaiting patiently
for me   ~
campaigning for
enough popularity
as if running
for some political office
struggling for notice
within social networking hell
that damn necessary evil
before my poetic words
are given even   ~
a baby’s breath of a chance
to be read
to be heard
~    therefore and therein
I call out for recognition
for my words sake
not so much for me   ~
where they can
be published
distributed in a way
not so unlike
a Thomas Paine
pamphlet of old
and yet   ~
rather than
the printing press
a format like the internet
of which   ~
my words shall be
freely accessible
easy to search for
to find   ~
as well as
being affordable
for the people
so it is   ~   only the people
who will freely judge
the full worth
the significance
of my poetic creations
and then   ~
after undergoing
the experience
of my words
the people
if they want to
choose to
will
make
the correlation   ~   to me

peace out

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~