This poem is in response to Ron Chernow’s amazing and wonderful Biography of Alexander Hamilton, Hamilton the musical, and various soul searching I have been doing recently
(Please see notes and references at end)
Federalist
Paper Poem
(A defense
of myself to myself)
This is a poem of confessions
This is a poem of soul searching
This is a poem about relooking at what “America” Means
I was born in America
My story is not the immigrant story
The “Young, scrappy, and Hungry” Story
The “Just you wait” story
The “I’m not throwing away my shot” story
Mine is the story
Of seeing
The warts
The scares
The bruises
Of this country
I have lived here
All my life
(But two years in Peace Corps)
But not feeling
A Strong Identity as an American
But starting with a Musical
Followed by a book
I am relearning
The foundations of this country
Of those who gave up everything
In order to bring this country into being
Who understood the importance of a central government
Which was surprisingly touch and go
I see the foundations of our economics
And why economics matters
To a country
I also see
The breaks
The factions
The fears
Which created the political systems
We live with to this day.
There is power in seeing
Those who would have given everything
Who did give everything
For this country
For the idea of this country
For the promise of this country’s future
Sometimes our countries scars feel like Kintsugi
Sometimes they feel like puss filled wounds
Sometimes we are a bully
Sometimes we challenge everyone we know to a duel
And sometimes we can be
The Honorable Underdog
We all can root for
Today we stand
In the gumbo we call America
And we still cut each other down
We still need
“Black Lives Matter”
“Immigrant Lives Matter”
We need to fight
A revolution against
Whitewashing our media
Whitewashing our history
Whitewashing our identities
We need to fight
A revolution for
Ending Hate
Ending Discrimination
Ending Fear
And on a more personal level
I need to fight
A revolution
A revolution for Love
“Love is Love is Love is Love is Love”
A revolution for life
No matter how heavy the weight of Time feels
A revolution of identity
Who am I?
Not the Historical Hamilton
Not the Musical Hamilton
Not the Fanfiction Hamilton(s)
Who am I?
This is where this Federalist papers poem
Co-mingles with an Reynolds Paper poem
Part of what I expressed in a letter mailed
To Lin-Manuel in a moment of darkness
Hamilton and You
Speak to how little time we are given to make a difference
What is your advice?
When instead of too much life to fit into the time I have
It seems there is too much time for the life I have
Don’t worry
I have family and friends
And I will never choose
To make them sing
Their own version of
“It’s Quiet Uptown”
“Working through the unimaginable”
I will #AlwaysKeepFighting
Because that is what is requested of me by my various fandoms
And by you and all those I admire
And I never want to break your hearts
And when I write for others
The comfort and hope
Flows from my pen
That I don’t always find inside for myself
Lin-Manuel Miranda
You are Loved
Each atom of your being
Each thought in your head
Each dream of your soul
Is Loved, Is Loved, Is Loved
But When I ponder
“Who lives, Who dies, Who tells your story”
I am remarkable ready for someone else to tell my story
And find despite only being in my early 30’s
It feels there is a too infinite number of tomorrows
Before my story is finished
As a writer I would never ask
Where your ideas come from
But instead I ask questions
With even more nebulous answers
Where does your passion for life come from?
How does someone see themselves through the eyes of others?
Where should we look when the world is amazing: But it feels too sweet?
Like something which, while is wonderful, feels like it has gone on a
bit too long?
And I know this poem
Is a moment of personal privilege
And in the morn
I will face the day
And experience its joy and magic
Until the next time
My soul cries out
Against the heaviness of Time
And I wonder how long this journey will be
Not sure what magic words
What dream worlds or answers
I hoped to find via this poem
But I feel like I have to let
These Words
Go blowing in the wind
And see where the wind takes them
And hope as the writer of Hamilton
You somehow understand
What I am saying
It is said
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king."
Who am I?
A wanderer?
One of the Lost?
A light?
A shadow?
Something in-between?
Reader?
Who am I?
Can you pin it down?
Can you tell me what my Legacy will be?
Until that time I will cling to
History and Historical Figures
Writers and actors and dreamers
The hopes of others
The fears of others
The dreams of others
I fear that Hamilton would tell me
“We studied and we fought and we killed
For the notion of a nation we now get to build
For once in your life, take a stand with pride
I don’t understand how you stand to the side”
But I stand here
And time feels like a Hurricane
Just on the horizon
Sometimes all I can do
Is put one foot in front of the other
One foot in front of the other
And taking a stand
Is just something which I cannot do
I don’t always know how to
Build a life
Build a country
Build my life
My America
My place of Birth
My I don’t know what you are
I will tell you what I hope to gain
From the study of you
I seek an Eliza
I seek a Hamilton
I seek an Angelica
I seek a Washington, a John Laurens
So I will read
And get lost in books
And get lost in stories
Of Yesterday and Today
I seek the wisdom
Each morning of Lin-Manuel posts
Reminding us to Live
That we are all important
That life is to be cherished
Interspersed with “Music, love, and pride”
I seek the wisdom
To “Make Good Art”
I seek the wisdom
To “Write what you feel”
I seek the wisdom
“Stay Weird”
I seek things which cannot be put into words
A pat on a shoulder which touches my core
Which can still be felt months later
Someone to lean on
A purpose
Which is deep enough to touch
My heart and mind and soul
Seeking a different time and place
Where it feels like
We are standing on the cusp of something
Something different
Something magical
Something powerful and maybe awe inspiring
Now I think I will leave this here
Since I am getting as wordy as Hamilton himself
And I think I have lost the thread
So in the end
I ask you
I request from you
I need to know
The answers to a few questions
How do you (Live) like tomorrow won’t arrive?
How do you (Live) like you need it to survive?
How do you (Live) ev’ry second you’re alive?
Ev’ry second you’re alive? Ev’ry second you’re alive?
How do you write like tomorrow won’t arrive?
How do you write like you need it to survive?
How do you write ev’ry second you’re alive?
Ev’ry second you’re alive? Ev’ry second you’re alive?
How do you (Live) like tomorrow won’t arrive?
How do you (Live) like you need it to survive?
How do you (Live) ev’ry second you’re alive?
Ev’ry second you’re alive? Ev’ry second you’re alive?
(How) do you write like you’re running out of time?
(Live) day and night like you’re running out of time?
Ev’ry day you fight, like you’re running out of time?
Because in the end
I hold these truths to be self-evident
A story shared
A story shouted
A story whispered in the Dark
Is a truth better understood?
So here in this moment
Is my soul
Bared for you
Given to you
Hamilton
Notes:
Large
sections of this poem come directly from the lyrics of musical Hamilton,
Other Quotes
come from Lin-Manuel, Neil Gaiman, Robbie Thompson, Graham Moore and Lord of
the Rings
