Category: Poetry

Assortment of Poems written through the years….

the awakening

at the dawn …   the awakening
of this new year
fresh as the newly born   ~
joyously springing forth
from the baptismal water
that makes up
the river’s flow
I affirm my commitment
to ascend above
the murmuring mob
always
whining   ~
complaining …..
blaming another
demanding
natural rights
under the stars of heaven
which I  ……
am
admittedly
of the same ilk
and I
am
no better
than anyone else
I’m nothing special
just a human
but for once
I wish to choose
out of love and necessity
for all humanity
the uplifting
of our well-being
as a whole
where you and me
would become more …..
a doer
who is a leader
through word and deed
following in the footsteps
the spirit
of those like Gandhi
Mother Theresa
Mandela
MLK Jr
Rosa Parks
as well as
that lent out slave
named Moses Grandy
who paid for his freedom
three times before getting it
while running boats
along the Great Dismal
Swamp Canal
dug by the hands of slaves
our fellow human beings
and who could forget
the man “of the people,
by the people,
for the people”
Lincoln
none of them
let their right of anger
the justification of it
cloud their vision
get in the way
of what they had to do
to initiate change
if We the people
want change
then We the people
must do more than
suggest change
through the protest
of our grievances
We the people
must show
our children
how to travel
the road to change
We the people
must not only start
the revolution
We the people
must also
find a way to
offer up the solution

this is the awakening

peace out

Words by     ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

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

a facade that colors ~ an affirmation

born to color
not a choice
why
focus
on
a
facade   ~
that colors
the true
beauty
of
humanity

lift
the veil
of color
to reveal
the
human

the body
the spirit
the soul
as one

the total
human being

how much more
colorful
then
the beauty
of humanity
could become

this is an affirmation

do you only see
the color
of my face ….
or
do you see something
far more

peace out

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

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

the why: on summer vacation

This poem is dedicated to my muse, dearest friend and fellow artist Pd Lietz. Pd was the first artist to take a chance, have the faith and confidence to do a Image with Words collaboration with me. Not a shabby start for this small town artist from Freeland, Michigan. ‘Cause Pd Lietz is one of the greatest, highly recognized and published artists in the present day world.

on summer vacation
first week of September
the highlands
of Cape Breton
sung sweetly
to me
as if
given an angelic air
according to the wind
driven on its course
over hill and dale
~   accompanied
~   harmoniously
from the rush of sea
beating
ever so steadily
upon the ragged shore
sculptured in rocks
stenciled
with weathered
lines of character
where water and land
are roofed with
the veil of sky
not only home to
~   the cloud
~   the sun
~   the moon
but   ~    the bald eagle
neither one nor two
the many
swooping
majestically about
all the while below
the moose walks
and runs
with beige or gray
covered legs
along the zigzag path
of rugged terrain
and too
under
the same shadow
of the eagle’s wing
right off
the best kept secret
on the Cabot Trail
Meat Cove
~   the whale
breaching together   ~   freely
in synchronized swimming
purely   ~   unequivocally
breathtaking …..

~   for if I knew
the day and time
my end would come
this is where
this place
I would sit
upon the ground
on the hill
above that cove
with love one in arm
I would
without fear
face north
to peer across
the Gulf of St. Lawrence

and whisper goodbye
to Pd Lietz
my dear friend
and fellow artist
in Manitoba

I’d patiently
and peacefully
wait in silence
for my maker
accompanied by
the angel of death

it would be then
with poise
I would ask the creator

the why
~    for all this living

peace out

Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

This poem will be a part of the June 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

my first kiss

you are my sister
the daughter
of my father’s
best friend
our bond is stronger
than mere blood
you gave me
my first kiss
from a girl
I’ve never forgotten
you’ve been
my most trusted
counselor
even when
I refused to listen
there ain’t another
in the universe
like you
which I know
all those who
know you
would agree……

thank you   ~
dear Susie
your loving spirit
rocks my world
only to be eclipsed
by my love
and appreciation
for you……

Words by  ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

‘cause ~ the death of some things shouldn’t be destine to be retro

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when I got those wire-rimmed glasses
the kind with transitional lenses
I didn’t care or give a damn……
about the loss
the symbolic death
of my grotesque looking
black rimmed glasses
without hesitation or even remorse
for having to wear them
for what seemed like……
fifteen years in the bowels of hell
I quickly doomed them forever
to the tomb   ~   the bottom of
my sock drawer

I swear ……  I did not mourn
their demise for 15 years
nor will I miss them for eternity
regardless if   ~   immortalized
by the legendary…….  Ray Orbison
and Buddy Holly
or someway   ~   somehow
thoughtlessly resurrected
from the unstylish grave

‘cause  ~  the death of some things
shouldn’t be destine to be retro

I thank the creator of contacts
and frameless eyeglasses

Words by  ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

Deep Creek to Albemarle Sound

This story poem is dedicated to my muse RLF and her mother Ginny.

as I stand on what is known as
Elizabeth’s Dock…..   just south of    ~
the Deep Creek Lock
a part of the Dismal Swamp Canal System
called by some in times past…. “The Ditches”
my muse walks along the dock
behind me
at times struggling
to keep her balance
for reasons I won’t disclose
about her health
but her efforts inspire me
this little place    ~
she has honored me to visit
is the land of her roots
you see…..   Deep Creek
is where her mother
and her mother’s family are from

I now will help you
better understand
the backdrop
that frames the words
of this story poem
I emotively write……

Chesapeake Virginia 

on this day
as I look south towards
Albemarle Sound in North Carolina
I notice the weathered handrail
on the landside of the dock
the big nails used to hold it together
are like a directional pointer
to the historical information……
a really dismal era
of my country’s past
the tannic colored waters of the canal
symbolically stained
with the blood   ~
sweat
and tears
of my fellow humans
whose evil experience
if evil is a definition of the heavens
the wicked
and senseless defamation
imposed on our own species
to waller in the mud like pigs
up to their necks
to dig a so-called ditch
one scoop at a time
where such mud was not washed off
‘cause they had no blankets
to keep them warm at night
in the horrid Dismal Swamp
or to keep the elements off from them
as described later
by the slave and canal boat handler
Moses Grandy
in his “Narrative
Of the Life Of
Moses Grandy;
Late A Slave
In The
United States Of America”
what a Man
a Hell of a Human Being
who was ripped off
lied to
whipped
watched wife and children
taken away
had to pay for his freedom
3 times……
before he was given it

such recollections
make my knees feel weak
make my stomach feel sick
I suddenly feel ashamed
for being human
and yet
the noble example
of the struggle of my muse
behind me
keeps me standing
instills a will in me
to keep going
have hope
in the human ability
of learning from our mistakes
to push on
for the future of our children
and their children’s children
regardless   ~
the color of their skin

let me stop here
I need to make something clear
about this place I stand
despite the melancholy
that surrounds its tannic
and dismal swamp past
that past
is no longer its present…..

because of those like my muse
which started with her mother
and her mother’s family
before her
I now see a beauty
beholden
to the positive outlook
of the onlooker
and a canal
that borders a swamp
called Dismal
I hope to travel
explore its full landscape
from Deep Creek to Albemarle Sound
the twists and turns
the ditch leading to lake Drummond
and its waters that feed the canal
learn more how the swamp
became part
of the Underground Railroad
when Robert Frost
aimlessly wandered it
‘cause he was heartbroken
over a woman
how it inspired
Edna Ferber to write Show Boat
by reliving the journey of   ~
the James Adams Floating Theater
back and forth
along the Dismal Swamp Canal

yes….   I want to do this all
with my muse some day
out of respect for her struggle
her mother
and her mother’s family
as well as those
my fellow humans
through blood  ~
sweat
and tears
who built its past
and whose efforts
have shaped its present

Image & Words by    ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

This story poem will be a part of the May 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

birthing change ~ I’m me

I’m nothing more
than me  ~  everyday
of common birth
and doing it my way
as only I could do it
the best I can  ~
freely
independently
~  distinctly
from all the rest
of my kind  ~
the humankind
maybe  ~
not in bodily form
but through
characteristics
reflecting my soul
the very essence
molding my being
into who I am
and what I’m yet
to be  ~  nothing
more than me

~ ~

~  do you see me
~  do you hear me
~  do you feel me
~  do you get me
as far as  ~
my contribution
to the mix of all else  ~

~ ~

if so or if not
whatever  ~
yes  ~  I can tell
I’m me  ~
a little different
from you
in spite of any
way of belief
or national stigma
breeding
social inhibition
packaging
my acts  ~  my living
conditions  ~
my ills
into some box
that’s deserving
of any scourge
labeled upon me  ~
I will go on
not as a victim
even if  ~  death
is prematurely
knocking at my door
~  I’ll live
~  I’ll contribute
~  I’ll die
like any human
~  I’ll matter
till the end
~  I was
’cause
that’s
the spirit
birthing change
~  I’m me

Words by  ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

smile

fuck that
I ain’t
gonna let
despair
define me
‘cause
I got
this thing
called
livin’ to do
before
darkness
really
sets in
I’m gonna
dance in
the light
until I can’t
no more
when a smile
has become
the only
thing
my face
does know
do you hear
that  ~
fuckin’
despair

“Today I told despair to fuck off with a smile.”

Words by ~Keith Alan Hamilton~

the light of imagination

a dark cloud
floating
about my head
wanting
to envelop
my spirit
with a gloom
so thick
and weighty  ~
my soul
would go limp
feel of no use
where purpose
has no reason
as if  ~
ludicrous
and beyond
any hope
from the light
of imagination
and yet  ~
this bleakness
has no
lasting
affect
upon
the fire  ~
the passion
sustaining
my heart  ~
fueling it
to burn
from hope
stoked with
the light
of imagination
not willing
to give way
make room for
a dark cloud
freely floating
about
my head

“The hope given from the light of imagination keeps that dark cloud with its gloom from freely floating about my head.”

Words by  ~Keith Alan Hamilton~