Unrequited Love Poem by Uriah Hamilton

Unrequited Love

Rating: 4.4

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:
He sees Laura, a married woman,
For the rest of his life there is nothing
But love poems and tears;
He writes endlessly of her blonde hair,
Her piercing eyes,
He is envious of the ground that touches her feet;
The years achingly move forward and he only grows
More obsessed with the unobtainable Laura.
And there is my beloved Bob Dylan,
As his marriage to Sarah falls apart
He composes Blood On The Tracks
And then becomes God’s lonely man
Forever circling the globe on an endless tour
Trying to escape being Tangled Up In Blue.

When I’m alone lighting candles
And burning incense,
I fall into dreams about a tall girl,
The most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
But she’s entwined in arms that are not mine,
And I can only find solace
In the romantic and poetic defeats of the past.

Mary Nagy 26 August 2005

Great poem Uriah. I think the emotions that poets are able to express makes any love they experience seem so much more passionate and romantic. I can picture you lighting your candles.......dreaming of your girl. I hope is does not remain unrequited with you for long. Sincerely, Mary

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Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler 26 August 2005

Uriah, this poem was already good enough, but i was bought and sold with the Dylan reference. awesome job! Jake

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Mahnaz Zardoust-Ahari 26 August 2005

Beautifully written.....Ditto on the Dylan part....I loved it Uriah.

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Shannon Chapel 30 December 2005

Beautiful, Uriah. What more can I say? S

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Adriana Cruz 07 September 2005

what a torture love is, isnt it? i feel for you. another poem that makes me sigh in sadness for the poet who wrote it. what great excellence.

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Enemacles Redux 29 August 2005

This is what poetry is about. Nothing could be more imortant that what is talked about here... I think about a blonde girl with blue eyes... I think of her as my cosmic twin. Brilliance... This is going on my wall.

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Raynette Eitel 26 August 2005

Uriah, somehow I'm not believing you find solace in the mistakes of all those past poets...(to thine own self be true) . Your last stanza is the real part of your poem. The incense is another part. The rest of the poem is a dust storm to detract you from pain. Feel the pain, then do something about it. There is a poem within this poem that you haven't written or resolved yet. I'm rooting for you! Raynette

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John Kay 26 August 2005

Though I like the poem a lot, it reads a little like an essay in the first half. The last half is particularly nice, especially when you get down to lighting the incense. Good poem.

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