Our Final Destination Is With God
What purpose is there
To live in darkness,
To make one’s life dark
Or to accept darkness?
A life void of love
Or generosity,
A life of petty pursuits
That fail to enrich another,
This is darkness.
A life that refuses
To accept the love
Of God or humans,
This is the ultimate
Extreme darkness.
When a person finds love
From the universe and for the universe,
There is a light that radiates within
For everyone else to see and feel;
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Next Lifetime of the Spirit
Lord, grant me the power in this life
To walk with my own strength
In a positive and meaningful direction,
To know where I’m going
And not give way to the weaknesses
Of superficial temptations of ego
That would make me close my eyes
To the needs of the disadvantaged
In the pursuit of personal goals;
Nor to fall victim to sickness or frailty,
Nor to be at the mercy of others;
But in the event of such calamity,
To accept my fate with the dignity
Of one who demonstrated kindness to others
When the ability and opportunity was present.
Gracious Creator,
Make me aware of the beauty of the soul
So as to see all of life as a single family
Worshipping you in the spiritual parade
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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If You Find Me
I live day by day
Through whispered prayers at dawn
Seeing flowers still growing
In the yards of abandoned homes
As hopeful witness
To a day of revitalization
The life I seek is peaceful
Like a child's book in a little room;
But one has to put his back
Into the struggle to make the world a better place.
Of all the souls I've known,
I only regret the ones
I didn't make feel at ease
In an hour of friendship.
When I'm old,
I'll be lonelier than now
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Azzedine Alaia Dress
Drifting aimlessly for weeks
Trying to escape the chain-linked memories of her eyes
And her photograph in the bedroom,
I returned to the cold apartment
On a silent evening, the bird-less dusk,
To realize the emptiness of being someone she couldn’t trust.
She had a thoughtful and gentle heart
But grew up in an entirely different world
With a professional hostess mother
And a penthouse view of downtown Manhattan,
Saturday evening parties with numerous bartenders
And such elegant displays of happiness
Whereas my family struggled to survive
Among the broken concrete of a city in defeat.
I don’t know if my feelings were propelled
By a deep sense of personal inadequacy
Or simply the arrogance of a proud proletariat,
But I always discovered a way
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Unrequited Love
I have immense affection for poets,
Those desperate lovers who often lose
All vestiges of sanity in amorous pursuits.
Propertius lived and wrote in Rome
A few decades before the birth of Christ,
He wrote passionately
Of his tumultuous relationship with Cynthia,
Cursing ships and seas when they took her away.
And then there is the nine year old Dante
Who sees the eight year old Beatrice
And realizes there will never be
A more beautiful seraphic girl;
He will marry another woman
For whom his father has promised him,
But he will never mention his wife in a poem
But will trust the prayers of Beatrice
To keep him and Virgil safe
Through the circles of Hell.
Less than a hundred years after Dante, enter Petrarch:
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Liz Phair and Three Beautiful Ladies
On a warm sultry night last August,
I went to a rock concert featuring Liz Phair
And several other female artists.
A male friend of mine couldn’t go with me,
But I didn’t really mind, I love music so much
That I never want to talk or think about anything but the show.
Once I was there, though, I ran into three female friends:
Erica, Diana, and Soha!
I was as nearly as exited to see them as Liz;
If I had been a puppy,
My little tail would have been
Ecstatically wagging!
I was in the front row and toward the end of the show,
I reached my hand toward Liz Phair wanting
To slightly touch her, but she placed a guitar pick
Into my outstretched hand, I thought I might have a heart attack!
My three friends were cheering me on like perfect angels!
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Norwood
Lovely friend,
What can I say to you now
That wasn’t said
When we sat together
On the sunlit shore of friendship?
What tenderness of affection
Can I offer you?
What words of understanding
Written in the poetry of my heart
Can I convey to you?
Does God give your eyes in heaven
Earthly vision to see my tears?
Does God reassure you
There is nothing between us but love,
There is no judgment,
Only love, only understanding,
Only longing to hear your voice
In pleasant conversation.
Car rides to concert venues,
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Accidentally Finding Aglaia
I was startled and happy
Accidentally Finding Aglaia
On Ushakov Avenue
Near the coffee shop
On the summery day
After not having seen her
For several years
That witnessed my divorce
As well as other dramatic downfalls
Like the loss of friends
Through tragic ends.
She reminded me of our youth
On Dnipro beaches
Swimming in the sunlight
And kissing in the sand
As children laughed at us
And then later holdings hands
Nears St. Catherine’s Cathedral
Where her mother wed.
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Fleeing Autumn Skies
Innumerable rugged steps
Across the broken concrete
Of a desolate city
Have lead me to this place
Of spiritual dejection.
No one’s disposition
Is created in a vacuum,
No one’s psyche is established
In a single day,
No one’s soul is known
Outside the accumulated experiences
Of joy and sorrow.
My memories are woven
Into the fabric of my existence,
So many fibrous strands of struggle fray
And dreams unwind like balls of twine.
As a child, I fell in love
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Underage Girl
She disappears into the foreboding night
While her mother is sleeping in the bedroom next to hers,
She’s underage but escapes
To the Atlantis Lounge
Where the girls dance full-body birthday nude
To earn cash for a beautiful prom dress,
A prom that will never come.
When girls are completely nude,
Supposedly they ban the booze,
But the underage girl
And her blonde twenty-two year old friend,
Toss back shots of rum
In an effort to numb their souls
When it’s time to disrobe
For the defeated old men, the parasites
And the serial killers seeking entertainment.
When there is a lull in the evening
And the creeps tightly clutch their dollar bills
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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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