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

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

Well-remembered.

“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

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

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

Before

                     Our

                                           Eyes

I walked today where Caesar walked!

The Forum in Rome.

Milan Hamilton

March 15, 2007

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.

 

What Are We Going To Do Until Next Season?

The big day has come and gone. The big game is over. The Saints have come marching in. The Colts have gone back to their pastures. Our gang did our part. Tomi and Paul purchased a new wide-screen TV just in time for the party. We had sauerkraut and brats and hot dogs and lots of junk food to last us until half-time. We all took a poll of our gang and decided we were going to root for the Saints (except we are still not sure whether there might have been one or two closet Colts fans in the room), especially since they were in the same league as the Vikings and Packers. I showed up with my brand new, never-worn Packers T-shirt and cap, the shirt purchased just for when the Packers made it to the Super Bowl, but since I may not live long enough to see it, I decided this had to be the year. However, if Brett Favre comes back next year I may just buy a Vikings T-shirt just in case.

Above is me giving my welcoming speech before the big game.

Below is our gang breathlessly awaiting the kickoff.

A Correction—Not a Retraction

A few posts ago I alluded to a breakthrough on my meditation retreat over the holidays.  I have to acknowledge that after several arguments with my gang at my 73rd birthday party, I had to go back and review my calculations.  I had mentioned that I was actually going to be 72 years “old” on January 25th.  I had to admit my friends were correct.  I actually was 73 years “old” on that date.  I had miscalculated.  Nevertheless, the breakthrough insight still is valid.  I am not “old.”  It is just that I am beginning my 74th year on the planet instead of my 73rd.  Anyway, here are some photos from the big celebration of my 73 years of life.  Happy Continuation Day to me!