I’ve been a busboy, a waiter,
A salesman for road crews
A cook and a soda ****.
The American market is
Not set up that well for
Kids who want to work.
Before I was twenty five
I’d had eighty different jobs
Some of them at the same time.
Some parents think their kids
Are a good source of income.
Others think that is a crime.

I suppose it’s one thing
If the kid picks his own job;
Does what he wants with money.
But robbing his stash
When he is out working
Is not even close to being funny.
And keeping a youngster
Both working and schooling
And no social or playtime is sad.
It robs him of childhood
And rips off all his ambition.
The child has to somehow turn bad.

Maybe it only trusting
That the kid learns not to do.
Maybe that dreams don’t come true.
Maybe the kid learns
His hard work and dedication
Only gets him blisters when he’s through.
That was all true of me;
I did what I was told and
I learned that joy and accomplishment
Earned no praise for the doing
Only produced, if I didn’t work hard
A tremendous amount of admonishment.

So, when I left home
I had no direction in mind;
I looked ahead to sixty more years
Of working and being robbed
By people I wanted to trust
And not even being capable of tears.
This may sound like a whine
Blaming and much worse
A griper that’s totally out of line.
But what it really means
Is your kids aren’t your slaves
To be put to work in some coal mine.

When i close my eyes

I see the faces of the dead

I hear their voices

The things they said, their laughter

The ones i thought would live forever!!

Something got them though: the ones who lived fast

It was a drug, some bullets, a disease

I thought they would live forever!!

Those crazy *** dudes and girls
How urgent they were



But they didn't

Something got them,

Just as sure as it will get me

It's not always about the young dying recklessly

I think of some old man or woman living a slow life:maybe washing a car or cooking a dinner, watching a baseball game on tv

Gone forever.

They are so real to me when i close my eyes

More powerful than any living being every could be to me

The living live cowardly as they smile and laugh to me

But this death thing is real

Very real

I drive highways alone at night

Remembering a dead girl riding shotgun. Who died a couple of years ago beside me.

The things she said and her laughter haunts me.

More powerful than anything living

What lies she told me

More powerful than anything living

This crumpled memory of mine.



Damion Hamilton

Don't look at me that way
You can't always have your way
No I'm not someone you slay
And no you can't ask how much I weigh

Don't say the place where I belong is the kitchen
Just because I am a woman.

Don't stare at me secretly from the window
Don't think you can impress me you ******
Don't think you could ever be my shadow
Always behind me trying to follow

Don't think my courage can't be summoned
Just because I am a woman.

Don't think you can sit in the empty seat next to me in the bus
What , do you think I can't create a fuss ?
Don't think you can just touch me and run
It shows you're scared and what makes you think you have won?

Don't you think it's unfair to continue female foeticide
What makes you think you're the one to decide?
How is it an honour, when it is honour killing ?
Why can't you be the one to understand her feelings?

No , I don't think you can treat me like vermin
Just because I am a woman.

So how about you show us some respect
And your actions , you began  to inspect
And how about you treat us as your equal
I'm pretty sure that is legal

So how about you apologise honestly, it will be forgiven
Oh yeah, that's because I am a woman.

Your words speak to me,
They let me know
There is somebody else like me.
Your words are art to my eyes.
Floating figures from an alternate reality.
Touching my thoughts.
Whispering in my dreams.

How small of a toss
  Can create such great loss
  The wrong words to a boss
  Showed meaning with cost  
  
A tiny young boy
  Misuses a toy
  States things that are cloy
  On food too much soy

An older girl rants
  She needed new pants
  The seeds that she plants
  Itch like some red ants

You can't find your ring
  Shouted words in a string
  Accusations that sting
  ... You sat on the thing

How much did you gain
  In time of long pain
  Heard the howling of rain
  No songs had you sang

Life gave you pleasure
  Though Lacking in measure
  Like clinging a tether.
  Than none it was better.

How fun has dwindled.
  Love that sloped downward.
  Loss casts And it shadowed.
  'Til no more has remained.

Loss.
Cost.
  Gain.
   Pain.
    Pleasure.
     Dwindled.
      Shadowed.
        

Words. Lost.

mgm 1/10/2016