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undefined Oct 2018
It's funny how the rain can wash away the day and
somehow still leave me lonely inside, feeling so far away.

If you were to take away from me all of the memories,
floating like the twigs and leaves piled at the end of the street,
would I seem to be as fresh as the air smells clean
from these monsters in my head that don't give me rest or sleep?

Well the rain doesn't fall quite so sleepily on me, and I ache
for the sun to shine again, and maybe bring me some peace.

See, I've been troubled for some time now with a home so far away
My little heart & soul were taken, and even with years I just can't shake the lonely hopeless feeling that don't ever wash away.
And if the clouds don't part, than forever in the dark   I'll stay  


Well, the rain has stopped now and the wind is dying down,
and I'm still here in this quiet little town
wondering how much farther to go to prove to myself
it don't matter none too much where ya started out,
it's how we all end up that's got us upside-down

Well, the rain doesn't fall quite so sleepily on me,
and I ache for the sun to shine again
and maybe    bring me      some  peace .
undefined Oct 2013
head full of hair, like the red on my son’s head,
red like my face, I wonder of the blood that did circulate
around the tumor that formed just behind her eye

the red i saw
like a man going blind, eyes irritated at the sun’s presence
bloodshot like mine, with anger on those drunken nights I cursed a god in heaven

I wonder if my baby saw red like I did
when, my eyes burning, filled with tears at the news of her death.
Those lovely red curls that now make a pillow for her final place of rest..







© 2013 Patrick W. Hamilton
All rights reserved
ive written before about my daughter, and its always therapeutic..
the theme here for next months poetry thing is writting about "colors"
so thats what got me started here i guess.
undefined Nov 2012
this is my place
this was the doorway i rented.
this was where i would put things.
this was my bathroom.
this was the mirror i used to look through.
this is the place at the bottom of the stairs.
this is where i didnt sleep.
this was where my head screamed till out of breath.
this was my backpack where i kept paper.
these were the words i didnt write.
those were the sleepless nights.
those were people i loved.
these were things i did to pass the time.
and that.. that was what i had in mind.
these were reminders of the "silly times".
theres where we three all learned to rhyme.
and thats the hallway to down there, thats where i went this last time.
with no light there..
no time..
no games, photos or silly rhymes..
no words to write, no sleepless night..
no stairs down there, no pen and pad, no bathroom,
no mirrors,
no head screaming, no bad dreaming..
no things to put away or place to keep them there.
no doorway rented.

and no place for me .
undefined Dec 2012
when Pachelbel makes me want to fly
and I never finished packing, but did burn
all my writing for heat last night
to make it through
just me, my guitar
and youth

if truth was what we seek then
I'd lie to you in breach with
words that make you smile
and ease a need for trials
like a preacher spouting
Van Gogh in syllables
I leave you
impressions
smilingly  
sunny
... just writing you
undefined May 15
The less romantic side
but majority of the time
sleeping uncomfortably &
keeping on all your ****

Wasting money often
on food that's no good
all of it really just
gas station garbage

But,
making the miles needed
(cheap)
& quick  .
Just seeing connections. The real life of freight hopping US travel up to this year, and my current real life spent traveling Europe mostly by middle of the night plane rides.
undefined Dec 2023
Payday.

I feel broken and beaten down and antisocial. I wander aimlessly through Walmart trying to find snacks for lunches to pack. I make my way from cookies and crackers to liquor turn left , electronics, uninterested. I find myself looking at luggage and backpacks, and then into the camping section.  Grab some paracord, seems like I always need that. A pocket knife, only five bucks. Then, I'm looking at sleeping bags...

I'm lost.

Lost and knowing I'm lost, in a world of normalcy that doesn't suit me. I leave the grocery store with a bag of granola, because I only know how to pack for hiking and train rides.

Two more months of harvest left.
undefined Aug 2018
pick up my pen, and start to write
breathe in the stars, strum a tune to the sky
still my heart, spend my time
free as the wind rushing through the pines

All I've got   is this song of mine
to help me walk    these yellow lines .

've gotten lost so many times
rivers and roads, and mountains to climb
hop a freight,  stick out a thumb or fly a sign
still so many places to go, but calling Here, "home" for tonight
undefined Apr 2019
I love to write. I write often, like breathing. And as I began to understand a few years ago, it's not always that easy for others. I'm not a boastful person, I feel I have a decent understanding of my own gifts and talents. I don't make a lot of money, I'm not the best fisherman, I can't draw worth ****... But I have been writing creatively, and therapeutically, in some capacity since I was 10. I have professional experience and a bit of an education to back it up too. But now I'd like to tell you why none of that means anything to me, no piece of paper, other than a blank one, sheds any color at all on my actual ability to write something worth reading.

The reason I can do this job, the reason I know how to take what you're feeling, what you need to express but can't find the words that make people listen, and create something worth listening to, or worth reading, is the empathy and real life that I bring to my writing. I know what it's like to love truly, to suffer gravely, to travel rough, breathe deep, fight hard, lose everything, and then stand tall and find just the right words to speak.

I can write. And it won't ever just be space filler, if hired for a gig, I will write for you what you're really trying to say.
I applied for a ghost writing gig on line and they wanted to know "briefly" why I think I can do this job (creative writing). lol
undefined Aug 2015
its easy to see, you don't wanna see me anymore
so i'll do the leaving and walk out the door
'cause it's easy to see, see
you don't want me around no more
i keep finding reasons to write what keeps coming out like sad country song lyrics
undefined Feb 27
For those long days far away
Just wondering how you are
For the lonely nights lying awake thinking of you and counting stars.

...for the times when it hurts
to have to move on.
AND for the sweet sweet memories
of you in my arms.


For all the good times
and bad breaks
When I made you smile and
all the cute dates.

All the love i have inside
That's now gonna waste

...and for every heart
    That has to break.
undefined Aug 2018
Your words are just words,
empty airborne promises
Mind not matching where your heart is at,
sleeping here like walruses

Not far from a hide-a-bed, I
write down things that should be said
Transposing from inside my head,
pen and paper falls like lead

Wishing we could be
something we're not  instead
Things inside were kinda dead
from open wounds already bled

My mind, it goes from black to red
(and) I'll leave here again someday,
... But not today

The lier and the thief come undone
their shackles are my own
All the scars that could be known
from all the fighting that's been done
Sweat,
like sanity,
  slipping down the side of his face
    (Washed in grace)

I've reached my peak and I've gone past
feeling like I'm falling fast
Fleeting times of good and bad
nothing ever lasts

Spent miles alone and sad
broken bones, you signed my cast
Forgotten hate and had a blast
took the wheel and we still crashed

Wrote about my long lost Dad
went back to the bar for another glass
Realized that I'm still mad
made penance and had daily bread

Now I'm starting to get fat
Regretting the Life
   I still
    Never had
capo 1 D/Bm
Originally written in 2 seperate parts
this is coming together now as something interesting I think ..
undefined Jan 22
Thursday

Your "good morning" text to me
came early, and made my heart smile deep for the first time in a while.

Mandolin Orange on my headphones
makes the work day run smoothly,
and since I can't help but think of you anyway, might as well be tunes that help those thoughts tingle and glow nicely.

Wish I could tell you,
how I just wish for you the best
things in this life... and hope you meet someone someday that makes you feel
the way you do me.

I hope one day you let someone love you without a defense.
...And I wish that either one of those people could be me.


You told me last night about
your "least favorite quality of mine,"
well there's my least favorite of yours...





And I will choose to hear "I love yous,"
...
In, "Good morning" texts
moments that take your breath
late night calls
smiles, sighs
and "I miss yous."
...

I'll venture far out past my memory
Write you poetry
from the city of love
Starving, mail you sweet words
from hard miles, hard bread
and cheap wonderful wine.

Once I've
met the one,
seen the city,
and written songs,
maybe, "love" and I
can be friends again..
Just a bunch of thoughts
undefined Sep 15
The burden of love
The burden I love
The comfort,
when disheartening discomfort
needs to be made

clear again


The salve that comes
To sooth my soul when
Fear & doubts
trickle out
And Communication

is met


My love is not easy, not much good is
But I'd never dream of you taking away, in hopes of unburdening me,
the opportunity to listen
and love you

through the pain.
undefined Apr 2013
if poetry is words spoken aloud
what poetry then describes your silent steps
moving toward me through the crowd ?
what can i say about the wind
wisping hair in your face
tempo of movement
style and grace
i'll be now (for this one second)
who i really am
you make me a poet
and my heart is yours to claim
don't stay away too long
for my breathe gets shallow and weak
the picture of you smiling on my phone
sends currents of joy and laughter through me
so, keep your freedom as long as you must
but please look on me kindly
for my poet's heart can only take so much
undefined Aug 2015
her arms told a story i was dying to know
undefined Oct 2020
There's sometimes, when "paradise,"
Can't take it all away.
You don't fall in, to salvation,
And down in doom you stay.

I've found then, on a corner grin,
At a bar just down the street
When freedom turns to loneliness,
You can always find a drink.
IDK what I'm writing, I just liked the sound it made coming out,. I'll save it here for now
undefined Jul 2013
you wasted your "i love you's"
                                                   on somebody else
they went and broke your heart
                                                   a pain you shouldn't have felt
now i'm standing here lonely
                                                   heart left on the bottom shelf
                 [you're just waiting for it to be over]

you wasted all "i love you's"
                                                   on somebody else
undefined Nov 2012
I was born into a dark place in my mind
A middle child to a lost family
Nowhere in time
undefined Jul 2013
i just wanna find a place to hide
from the demon's hate that haunts inside
i run for miles and want to die
escape! escape! out loud i cry
the farther i go the less you know why
the faster i run
                          its quickness to subside
just feel like writing tonight
undefined Jul 2015
when i'm ready to leave , there's no stopping me
let the wind howl and blow , i'm still gonna go
let thunder crash , let heaven scream
i'll be on the road just watch me leave

when there's no more words to write , no more fences to climb
no more trains to hop , no more roads to walk
then you can lay me down somewhere on the way out of town
and set my spirit free in a place in a place where stars are just out of reach

....

'cause when i'm ready to leave , there won't be no stopping me
let the winds howl and blow , you know i'm still gonna go
let thunder crash and Heaven scream , i'll be on the road , nothin' bothering me

when I've no more words to write , trails to hike or mountains to climb...
then lay me down on your way out of town and remember me
but set my spirit free
undefined Feb 2013
secret fondness / too fragile to say the word
she talks about her family, "everyone wears masks"
she takes off her glasses when she gets high / eyes full of the night
i gladly relinquish bits of my soul
lost swimming in her / gleaming spirit of innocence
we write together...
plucking strings, / she sings / what she writes
speaking of "Thunder Heart"
i sink inside / a place deep,
knowing she speaks / of Him,
(and not of me)
undefined Feb 2014
Walk by a window
Just to glimpse the light
With a friend of mine
Who tells me I should write
With the emotion that
Passionately flows from my lips
But i just want to hold my breathe
And spare my pen the risk

Of the rhapsody that would unfold
And pour out my soul
If i let go       of it
... I would likely lose some ache
But would my love extinguish with.?
i dunno...
undefined Mar 2013
Voyager 1 where are you now
over 17 hour wait just to find out
seeing far beyond the edge of the heliosphere
discovering new space, whisper in my ear
tell your tale, a journey beyond realms
is interstellar travel possible, what do you see?
leaving home outside your solar system for me
hitting the magnetic highway
soaring through electrical particle winds for days
if you change direction I'll know you've gone
far enough to change everything we've known so long
if you haven't heard by now much about this then you should check out current events in space
:) awesome stuff
undefined Jan 30
I have to go away
I hope you'll understand
Yes, we could still be friends
But my heart is on the mend

So I had to walk away
Because I just can't pretend
That I'll ever be the man
Not in love with you again
undefined Nov 2013
every letter and sweet word spill'd  
all the songs written and the one's that you will
lines of devotion and feelings unconstrained
emotions spent on strangers who betrayed
----------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­------------
you wasted your "i love you's"
                                                   on somebody else
they went and broke your heart
                                                   a pain you shouldn't have felt
now i'm standing here lonely
                                                   heart left on the bottom shelf

'cause you wasted all "i love you's"
                                                   on somebody else
------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------
understanding the struggle of giving too much away
i understand the reasons why you'd feel so afraid
writing this down now 'cause i've too much to say
but i'm begging you now, please don't keep me at bay

...

how can i convince you that i'm for real?
how shall i explain the way that i feel?
you bring the sunshine after the rain
and every time i look at you i fall all over again
-----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------
but you've wasted your "i love you's"
                                                          on somebody else
who went and broke your heart,
                                                 a pain you shouldn't have felt
now mine is yours to claim,  
                                                 but you've placed it on the shelf
"cause you wasted your "i love you's"
                                                                ­           on somebody else
started a little while back with just chorus lines...
?? suppose i just decided to go ahead and finish it
[let me know if it sounds too "thrown together"]
undefined Dec 2012
tonight has turned out to be
a huge turning point in my reality
more focused on the future than the past
a big wake up for me has happened the last
couple of hours midst the hectic chaos
i've truly found something new for my life to weigh on


i know that it must sound odd
for you to imagine
that i've found something more than god
for me to believe in
but life is strange sometimes
and when you're at your very worst
the most unlikely people can pull your face
up out of the dirt


but tonight i'll sleep for whatever it's worth
and tomorrow is a brand new day
that i'll be facing head on
undefined Mar 2013
sit in the grass
near where the pink tree blossoms grow
(watch the traffic move on slow)
what you find in the day
is what you make
i didn't stop traffic,
but i could use the break
undefined May 2019
I began writing in a therapist's office actually, as a child. I was a pretty wound up tight sorta kid I think, bubbling over on the inside with all sorts of emotions that I had no idea of how to channel or deal with. So, I wrote, kept a journal, wrote some stories for my friends in school, letters, poems... You get the idea. I think back now, and believe that all of those things are important to mention, because the reason I write songs today, is the same reason that I couldn't stop writing notes, poems, or lists back then, to collect, better understand, and focus my emotions... And to me, help maintain some sanity.

Everyone, I feel, has to at some point deal with the darker corners of life. That's just the way life goes, what could we ever learn without walking through both "good," and "bad" times? I don't ever think that I'm owed anything, I simply wish to live, love, enjoy and experience as much good in this life as I can find... And sort of, make certain that it outweighs the bad times, if possible.

I could either sit here and tell you that I grew up with an abusive step father, was teased and picked on by children, pulled out of school for things that weren't my fault, ***** by a gay man, had a friend close to me die on my couch, served in the Army where I discovered the body of another friend just after he'd blown his head off. I could tell you that my first daughter passed away due to something that I never understood growing behind her eye. My family betrayed me. My wife left me. I was plagued for years with horrific nightmares of all sorts... I could sit here and tell you about many, many of the darker parts of my life, but why? I could say that after the loss of my family how I hated God, hated people, and hated myself so much that I decided to take my own life.

However, I don't see too much good in that for this sort of thing. So instead, I will stand here and tell you that when I had rid myself of all that I owned and began walking down a road 7 years ago, with no idea or plan of what to do next. I had my writing. And I began to get all of these things out onto paper, in black and white in front of me, to throw into the trash, burn, rewrite, to do whatever I needed to do with them. It wasn't eating away at my soul so much anymore. Someone gifted me a guitar, and I began to watch people play more closely, learned a few chords, made some better friends, and started writing songs.

So, I think for this paper, I'll simply, as shortly as I can, just tell you about some of the things that I've been able to realize the past few years. Such as, it's remarkably quiet at the top of a 14,600 foot mountain... In Port Orford, Oregon you can watch the waves break before they even get close to the shore from atop a rock there that is as far west as you can go in the continental U.S...  Freight trains are cold and loud, if you're going to hop one bring earplugs and a blanket, and I would recommend waiting till they've stopped moving... There are so many beautiful places in this world that have absolutely No Cover Charge to see... When kayaking along intersecting rivers, be aware that they all move at different speeds, you can easily get pushed into the bank if you don't navigate properly... People are kind, over all I mean, we're all just doing the best we feel we can at the moment. Please, for your sake, don't take offense... The poorer people are, the more likely they are to share, again this is a pretty general statement, but I've found it to be quite true... The west coast is easy to walk down, and very lovely to look at. The east coast of the US on the other hand, is much more of a challenge, but you will find some of the oldest trees and some of the wisest folks there... If you plan your year right, the weather will always be perfect where you are... If you will just be you, and not try to be something else, people will like you... The one's that matter anyway.

Now, I feel as if I've come full circle here with telling you all this. I began writing as a child, writing things just for me. I've made it through some pretty serious bouts with depression, writing for me. But what music and this old guitar have done for me and my life today, and in recent years, is connect me to total strangers in a way that has been nothing less than magic. It's began to help me repair relations with loved ones, it's shown me over and over and over again the unimaginable realization, for my mind, that I'm in fact not alone. And it's begun to show people who I am, as well as show me that it's absolutely acceptable for me to be who I am, because who I am aint that bad. And I'm getting better.
not really poetry, just thinking out loud
undefined Jun 2014
everyday my mind wonders why ?
the sun lifts a head
      wind breathes in bones
               new seasons arise
morning is born with the death of night
my soul cries songs naked from mountain tops
     a secret sight
               a spirit alive
[a past drifting in too many tears to loose]
ghosting times far beyond try to...
understand the small bits of truth
     quietly
          seeping
               through
                              .
undefined Nov 2021
A flame touched stick of lavender
Jasmine and something else...

I light it often and think of you,
of eyes that seared a place on my heart,
the curve of your smile,
smell of your hair...

memories striking heavy in my chest,
shorten my breath,
and return feelings for a moment,
as scared and helpless as I felt
every time we've met
Just some words and feelings I thought I'd put somewhere right now, might come back to later and try to make something real out of them :-)
undefined Apr 2013
She said, "They use to call me busy-body, now I'm just a no-body,"
as I stroll up, headphones to unplug, to sit and wait for buses of school children to come up.
Feeling kind of broke of a sort that wont shut down, inside I'm meaning, reeling for home unfound.
Prospecting, working, commish here and there, "case management" on my case breathing till no air.
Looking and ardently searching for something that's not there, a plain jane job, to just give room for air.
Plans on paper, sound right in my head, but seem less and less practical in practice of what's read.

"Help? Daddy has a headache and sickness with no want to help baby,"
as she fashions a meal from play food in a play kitchen to make me feel better.
But I wont sit at her table, I wont play with her dolls, not today, when I've got the world at my *****,
biting and stabbing me in the back of my brain,
no, now I'll just put on a movie and try and sleep for a change.

"I love you's" are exchanged as I cover my head,
and the ultimate weight that is me lies in my bed.
Troubled, down, pierced by the bad negative points of life,
I'll rise later again looking for a "re-set" button to make alright,
while she sets the table with guests to an imaginary meal
cooked to perfection in hopes to change the way Daddy feels.
wrote this couple of years ago...
just looking back at some things now in my journal
undefined Apr 2013
I hug a guitar
and think of you
D. string's busted
can still play blue.

So much on my mind
right now too much to say
Funny how I can't write
even one word that stays.
may be just rhyming nonsence . . .
undefined Apr 2013
its April
the rain falls
you're not here at all
i feel like running away
finding a sunnier day

then i get a call from you
my grey skies they all turn to blue

put the phone to your heart
wrap my arms around your guitar
I'm just learning at love
i can't play it too hard
got a good tune i think
... a work in progress i think :)
undefined Aug 2015
Headed north up 65 , watching trees change color
Miles just fly on by, I'm heading back towards Colorado
And I'll breath that west coast air, no tellin' where I'll sleep again
This spirit takes me farther, down this road that never ends
  
     And my shadow sometimes leaves me, and I can't see too clear
      But this yellow line I'm riding,  it always gets me there.

Keep on pushing every mile , this road is my home
Make my living just running , like I was born to roam
With guitar in my hand , and breath in my chest
I hit the ground running , like there's no tomorrows left
i wrote most of this last year.... was inspired to try and finish it this morning :)
undefined Dec 2023
Something in me's changed,
I know you've seen
and I've got something to say
about "you & me."

You're the one who
haunts my dreams.
And I wanna be the one
who makes you believe

...in the kind of man to you
              that I could be .


What started out as "kid love"
then turned deep,
And I thought it might break
with all the miles we've seen.

No matter how I've tried,
i just can't shake
The thought of "forever,"
however long that takes .


I had a daydream
of you  &me
Sharing headphones
on a flight overseas

Listening to Dispatch's "America"
and feeling free,
Your head on my shoulder
smiling

...with miles ahead
     no longer in between .
a poem for Rayne
undefined Nov 2013
I saw you wandering the streets
in my dreams
I asked you for my heart back

even saying "please"
I fell into the trap door of your eyes
looking right through me

i awoke with a start
still smelling your hair's scent,
briefly baffled at where my mind went

the devil in your eye had spoken to me,
not in a dream,
but a nightmare Hell sent

— The End —