Saturday, April 24, 2010

National Poetry Month - 8

Adventures of Obama – 2

Obama faced a room full of Titans

Of Wall Street that is, but he wasn’t frightened;

The Bears were growling, the Bulls’ nostrils flared;

The lobbyists bellowed, but he wasn’t scared.

They crawled around threatening, they brayed and they stomped:

“Obama, be careful, you’ll surely get whomped!”

Barack Obama, he didn’t worry.

He wouldn’t bow to their frantic fury.

He stood straight and tall, looked them right in the eyes

And said “Since you’re out of control I’m gonna regulate you guys!”

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

National Poetry Month – 7

Adventures of Obama

Obama took an enormous job,

He faced a fickle, unruly mob;

Whose tongue did hiss and venom did spew;

Whose color oft changed, now red, now blue.

The mob said, “Obama, we’re glad you came.

We got you elected, now just play our game.

Barak Obama, he didn’t worry.

He wouldn’t bow to their frantic fury.

He meant what he said and he said what he meant.

He went on being The President.

Milan Hamilton

April 9, 2010

Saturday, April 10, 2010

National Poetry Month - 6

He Was Born

“He was born the night the Titanic went down.”

Intrigued, I googled, thinking,

As the kid coming up for the 3rd time said:

“There’s got to be a pony in here somewhere!

What happened on January 25th, 1937?

Google said:

Guiding Light airs on the radio—for the first time ever;

Atlantic & Gulf Coast Maritime strike ends—unsuccessfully;

Germany agrees with Britain—all volunteers should leave Spain;

Mrs. Roosevelt takes her guests out—sightseeing;

Don Maynard, NFL receiver and Kathleen Tynan Halton, writer—are born;

Apparently no one dies!

What happened on January 25th, 1937?

I’m here!

Milan Hamilton

April 8, 2010

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

National Poetry Month - 5


Old Woman

What is that smile?

Do you know something I should know?

Living in this cave house for the past 80 years—

Bound feet—but apparently not your spirit.

Someone asked to what you attribute the long life you’ve lived.

“Living underground—warm in winter and cool in summer!”

Is that all there is to it?

Or have you learned somehow to receive life as a gift?

I wanted to tell you about my visit to the Forbidden City

Where so many of your emperors lived, sitting on golden thrones.

Or that I climbed up the Great Wall just two days ago.

But you just sit there and smile

At your daughter

At your grandchildren

At me.

You sly old dragon lady

Just sitting there

Sitting and smiling and loving life as it is.

Milan Hamilton

October 11, 2007

Monday, April 5, 2010

National Poetry Month - 4


My Grandfather’s Coin Purse

Real leather—not cheap imitation

A metal frame—hinged—with clasp

Still works

Opening with a finger-flip

There’s the button-down pocket


“D’you wanna get a soda-pop?”

Those trips to town recalled

With warm sensations arising

From somewhere deep inside.

Out would come the leather treasure pocket

Never failed me.

I have it now—carry it with me

Just like he did—(He’s gone—cancer got him at 76)

Leather separating from metal

And grain nearly worn off in places

Speaks volumes.

Milan Hamilton

April 26, 2007

Sunday, April 4, 2010

National Poetry Month - 3

The Story

I come from Minnesota

Where Minnehaha falls

Lakes freeze over in winter

As well as your eyelids

And stories of Paul and Babe

Fill young minds to overflowing

And where you grew up

In real neighborhoods and

Fannie Cohen would call your mother

Whenever you misbehaved

And where surprised New Yorkers would come

Wondering where the cows were

That they were told wandered the streets

And where Minnesotan is spoken

And is definitely distinct from Wiscon-zan or Io-way-an.

But I’m not going back

Because I found it is true

That the sun shines

Every day in California

And I have a bridge I’d like

To sell those New Yorkers.


Milan Hamilton

April 19, 2009

Saturday, April 3, 2010

National Poetry Month - 2

Ides of March

Caesar’s blood-stained toga     still

Held in reverence

With flowers                I saw them

Gandhi’s concrete footsteps    preserved

From that last walk

In the garden         I saw them too

MLK’s “I have a dream”            speech

At Lincoln’s Memorial

I stood there            on that stone

How many lie today                still

In blood-soaked garments

The Ides                        March on





I walked today where Caesar walked!

The Forum in Rome.

Milan Hamilton

March 15, 2007

Friday, April 2, 2010

April is National Poetry Month - 1

In honor of National Poetry Month, I am posting several poems I have written, most of them over the past four or five years in writing class.  The first five are those I have selected at the request of my writing class teacher, Cora Lee Brown for submission to a portfolio she is organizing of writings from her classes over the last few years.  This one is probably my favorites, partly for sentimental reasons.  Oak Glen has become our weekly retreat for meditation and spiritual reading and conversation.  We are there every Sunday morning whenever we are at home.

 Poet's Bench