Pebbles - poetry
As I selected up some of the polished gemstones in the rock store I began to think about what the gravel looked like ahead of they were polished. The store had a number of rocks on ceremony viewing the beforehand and after and I realized that except you knew what you were looking for, you could by a long shot pass by a advantageous gemstone. I also accepted wisdom about how many times we pass by a celebrity for the reason that they look "ordinary" and what we might be lost for the reason that we don't get to know their "inner person". Thus this poem.
Like shingle in a polisher
Copyright February 2005
Writing Innovative Poetry
Writing innovative poetry, the kind of poetry that decent literary journals publish, entails aware closely what each word of a poem does to the reader. A good poem must be evocative, skillful, and cohesive, but beforehand attempting to hone these attributes, a budding poet be supposed to be erudite of the a range of forms and attributes of contemporary poetry.
Five Mixed Poems, with Notes [now is Spanish and English]
1.Night in Jamaica [Peruvianism: 1810]It was a rainy night they say When don Simon Bolivar Slept in the arms of beautiful -Luisa Crober (of Jamaica); thus an Assassin missed his mark When he stabbed Major Amestoy Sleeping in the dark In Bolivar's hammock!.
Two Poems On paper All through Recovery
Since my wife and I are moving, or preparing to move, we've been going because of our effects as most ancestors must, to coach for the new location, and in doing so, I found two poems, ones I wrote in 1990, now 15-years old, never published, and so I'd like to advertise them today. I was a heavy drinker up to 1984 (some twenty years drinking), when I quite, and so these poems must have a bit to do with it, a delicate deliberation perhaps.
Four Poems: Crop of Annoyed Cattle [Katrinas Pathway]
Four Poems: Katrina's PathwayHarvest of Beside yourself Horses ((Dedicated to: Katrina)) crisis)It has happened before: Nearby and afar, Where the four-horses of Apocalypse With their burning nostrils Breathed in the fury of the winds Only to vomit out, disaster; - Then galloped away, Against pale faces!..
Two Poems: San Jeronimo Brook & [in English and Spanish]
Fair Andes! Thy arms reach highOf iron-woven solid stone Thu art a condor to the skyOf glory covert in thy heartSo many paths, a maze of art?In thy old, Mantaro ValleyWhere adobes, breathe and tremble Beyond your bucolic shadowsThere lays the prettiest of brooksIs my heart, contained by its stream!My image greatly carved, rippledIn its full strength shallow watersWaiting, just behind you for me?As it opens up, opens up my soulMy rippled soul-searching-eyes!..
My hero, my best friend, my Grannio (a.k.a my Grandmother)
She raised me like I was her own daughter from the day I was born 32 years ago.She loved me like no one else has ever loved me in my life.
Biography of Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Bronte (1816 -1855) Writer and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev.
Expressing an Emotion - The Art of Inscription Poetry
Writing poetry is an art, a way of expression, discovery connotation in few words. A piece of music of passion flowing out onto the pages, words that flow into each other and yet communicate the inner most feelings and feelings of those who read the words.
Lima, City with the Stretched out Wings [In English and Spanish]
Lima, City with the Stretched out WingsIt's an ink-black night: no stars: a moon in sightJust dots of: red, green and white-white lightsAs the plane descends, descends, slides down On the long-drawn-out-spun-out lasting city of illumination Uneven as a crumbled cake, lit up like a Christmas tree-The disturbed city, with its stretched out wingsStretching from the mountains to the sea- Winding because of the valley's, forests, and streams Stretches, stretches its naked wings-endlesslyAs,I'm descending, down, over and about the city (descending, descending, and sliding to the ground)The city with stretched out wings-and endless lights Down, behind, around, the ground, it's immune to me I'm just part of its evening, a beginning in its inky seaInvisible people: cats, dogs, birds, and rats-infiniteUncountable: dots; streams of lit dots, dot-lights; People: walking, talking, sleeping, consumption by the dots People: waiting, killing, robbing, praying, by the dotsFor tomorrow, tomorrow and an added tomorrowThey say-:you are ruthless, and I know this to be trueAnd they tell me you have thieves and murders-And this, I dare say-but shall-is also true, very true But show me a city to the awkward of eight-million-? I shake my fist and say: '?show me! But no one does'So alive, so brave, with beefy and hungry hearts;I say, show me one that sings in poverty and smiles Prove me one that celebrates year-round of its heroes Show me painters that are as good-that sell on streets-As good as: Picasso, Dali, Rembrandt, and Yang YangAnd that welcomes the world with stretched out arms-Show me all this, or some of this, and I will say no moreWith this,I descend to its streets, its crowed winding streetsAs well as, to its neighborhoods with dust and mucky air, And hear the laughs of the children; the dogs on roofs Sights of the shoe-shiners: men and boys, in the parksAnd the frequent food carts; -- musicians, paper sellersAnd with its naked featherless wings, cover all-My Lima, Peru with its established Cathedral:Golden fair-haired with immense crowns, andWithin its plaza-square, a water fountain-celebrated.Under its sins, with its crumpled aged men, lovely women,They all stand tall and bow to its Inca history, its glory- Its world that once ruled all, like the Roman Empire,Like the American Dream, they were the noble, the kingsAnd now, from grind and toil, sweat and strive, all, all Grinding, grinding away, each and everyday, lover of the, King of Kings: Jesus Christ-this is the Lima I know today; a mighty ship that has before now sailed the seven seas, now resting!?Spanish VersionLima, La ciudad con las alas extendidas Translated by Rosa PeñalozaEsta es una noche oscura: no estrellas, ni luna a la vistaSolo puntos: rojo, verde y blanco-luces blancasMientras que el avión desciende, desciende, bajando A la larga-extendida-plana persistente ciudad de luces Plana como un panqueque, encendida como un árbol de navidad-La despierta ciudad, con sus alas extendidasExtendidas desde las montañas hacia el océano Zigzagueante a través de los valles, bosques y riachuelos Estirando, estirando sus alas desnudas-interminablesMientras,Voy descendiendo, abajo, por encima y alrededor de la ciudad (Descendiendo, descendiendo, y deslizándose a la tierra)La ciudad con las alas extendidas-y luces interminables Abajo, Abajo, detrás, alrededor, la tierra, es inmune a mí Sólo soy parte de esta noche, un bautizado en su oscuro océanoInvisible: gente, gatos, perros, pájaros, y ratas, infinidadIncontables: puntos, riachuelos de luz, puntos de luz; Gente: caminando, conversando, durmiendo, comiendo bajo los puntos de luz Gente: esperando, matando, robando, rezando bajo los puntos de luzPor mañana, mañana y otro mañanaEllos dicen--:Tu eres implacable, y yo se que esto es verdadY ellos me dicen tú tienes ladrones, y muertes-Y esto, me atrevo a decir, que esto también es cierto, muy ciertoPero muéstrame una ciudad de ocho millones contraria --? Sacudo mis puños y digo: "?muéstrame," pero nadie lo haceTan viva, tan valerosa, con corazones fuertes y hambrientos:Digo, muéstrame una que canta en pobreza, y sonríe Pruébame una como esa, que celebra alrededor del año a sus héroes Muéstrame pintores tan buenos-que venden en las calles-Tan buenos como: Picasso, Dali, Rembrant y Yang YangY que recibe al mundo con extendidos brazosMuéstrame todo esto, o algo de esto, y no diré masCon esto,Desciendo a sus calles, atiborrada, zigzagueantes callesAsí como su raro vecindario con polvo en el aire Y oigo la risa de los niños, los perros en los techos Vista de los lustrabotas, hombres y muchachos, en los parquesY los numerosos carros de comida, músicos y vendedores de periódicosY con su desnuda y desplumadas alas, cubriendo todo-Mi Lima, Perú, con su renombrada catedral:Amarilla dorada con su coronadas torres, yDentro de su plaza cuadrada, una celebrada piletaBajo su piel, con sus arrugados ancianos, tiernas mujeres,Todos ellos parados altos, y reverenciando a su historia inca, sugloria- Su mundo que una vez gobernó todo, como el Imperio RomanoComo el sueño de América, ellos fueron los nobles, los reyesY ahora de pesadez, y esfuerzo, sudor, lucha, todos, todos extenuados, fatigados, este y cada día, amantes del Rey de los Reyes: Jesucristo-esta es la Lima que conozco, hoy; un poderoso barco que ya navegó los siete mares, ahora descansando?Author/Poet Dennis Siluk, web site: http://dennissiluk.
Im Sorry Mom! A Mothers Day Poem
Mother's Day Poetry,I'm Sorry Mom!I'm sorry for the troubles And the fears I brought you. I'm sorry for my mistakes, I didn't mean to make you blue.
Satirical Poetry About Tony Blair
All Hail.Is your infirmary full of aliens, even though new cleaning firms, Antenna waving buggies, And eerie crawly germs, Then dont waste a further second, now were into choice spin, Just complain, over and again, and up pops smiley smiley grin.
In the Mountans of Haiti [A Poem: in English and Spanish]
In the Mountains of Haiti(In the City)-July is a hot month-sweating Poverty out on every street (In Port de Prince); mixingMemory with ask causes stirring. Not much rain in Haiti (in 1986); Summer kept us busy, building A health clinic, in the mountains?.
In The Midst Of All
In the midst of darkness, there is light. In the midst of evil, there is virtue.
Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain
I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one extremely loved. We come to admit the death and alter our lives - instead begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive.
Top 20 Poetry Quotations
Explore the connotation of poetry and the motivation of poets with this distinctive assortment of reminiscent quotations..
Africa - Wheres The Profit?
A poetic criticism that just welled up exclusive my head - why cant we just do amazing - ahead of many more are dead?How pious those politicians are, When up there on T.V.
The Poets Bend [Three Poems with a review]
The Poet's Corner [Three poem/ see assess of poetry under the poems]The Poets CondorThe condor fly's Amongst the hillsIn open skies Of San Jerrónimo, Near Huancayo?Forbidding any To near his path-Lest he dare To risk a attack, Near Huancayo!..
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a silver alien craft, And at the same time as he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an minute one off fine At a cash point of his choice And they are inspection all the time On his irises face and voice.And of choice they find that he is not, They ascertain he just cannot be there, Although he seems as if he is visible, And has hands and toes and hair, If he is not on the Great Data Bank, He plainly and easily cannot be, He is not planned and he is not ranked He is assuredly not like you and me.
A Dose of Laughter
I'm not well. Can't you tell? Kinda low, so, give me a dose of laughter.
Find the Magic
FIND the MAGICFind the Magic As you delivery old repression Come out of hiding And see the starsFind the Magic As you expose the pain Let the tears flow And find beauty in your bodyFind the Magic As you scream from the beating Run from the threats And feel the conviviality of a hugFind the Magic As the diminutive girl is silenced Told she is too smart for her own good And she finds her place of honor as she speaks her mindFind the Magic As the ghosts creep into dream Haunt your daily life And you meet them at the crossroads and move onFind the Magic As you drift out of your body, avoiding the anger Observe the separation And you join the body temple once again to cheer in this exclusive wonderFind the Magic As you snoop to the conflicts and Watch in horror And emerge from the water whole and delightful in a rainbow of colorsFind the Magic, For you are whole once again© 2004 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is an researcher, governess and author. Commerce her all through her web site http://www.
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