Three poems [lima; judges and evils creation] - poetry
Thou knowith evil clings
But faintly it darkens
O Night! Who giveth birth?
"His name has no beginning
But why?! O why?
As mighty murmurs
It's an ink-black night: no stars: no moon in sight
Invisible: people, cats, dog, birds, and rats, infinite
Rose's First Poem:
By Rosa Siluk
In Saint Paul, good judges are rare!
In due choice of time
For the "Cussedest Rascals," in all the city
And so I remark,
Dennis L. Siluk is the creator of 29-books, and has traveled the world 25-times around. His wife has been frustrating to catch up, but has only made it 10 times, and this is her first poem. I hate to see her next year, she will have me beat. http://dennissiluk. tripod. com
The Treasure of Catalina Huanca (In English and Spanish)
Note: in print after as the a small amount adobe 16th century place of worship San Sebastian, in San Jeronimo, by the mountains of Huancayo, Peru, after being taken there by the Wandering Quechua guide, Enrique (4-13-2005).The Treasure of Catalina HuancaWritten by Dennis L.
Lord Byrons She Walks in Beauty
Lord Byron's aperture epic to "She Walks In Beauty" is among the most memorable and most quoted lines in romantic poetry. The aperture lines are effortless, graceful, and beautiful, a decent match for his poem about a woman who possesses unforced grace and beauty.
Three Poems: Liberty, Death, and a Frog [with Commentary on Liberty]
Frog SummerSummer grows hot, for the New-blooded frogs; The bugs are thin, yet the Frogs stay fat, young and sassy. In these palsy times-they Only listen, as we dry up away.
THe Monster Mash, A Churchyard SMASH (short story I wrote when I was 11)
The Monster Mash The Necropolis SmashHave you heard of the Monster Mash? I assume you know the story of how it came to be, right? Well, I'm here to tell the TRUE story to you.It sarted out late one night, when all monsters where out of human sight.
It's dark, it's cold, its' just six thirty,thoughts of sleep still dull my brain,As I cluster down, confidential my coat,a customer clone, just ahead of you for a train.Insidious rain, just damp down,through weak light of creeping dawn,Paper sandwich bags and old chocolate cups,blowing past, look so forlorn.
Ed Gallagher Dec. 11, 1907 - Sept.
The Ballad of: Brawling Mad-dog Sergeant Rook [Now in: SPANISH and English]
English VersionA bunch of us guys in the hutIn ?Nam Were in performance cards, singing songs; In a solo-room, back of the hut Lay mad-dog, Sergeant Rook;And inspection from a distance Was his sidekick, Physical Cook.When out of the night, he wantedTo fight This bully of six-foot-two Dog-drunk, smelling like a skunkI required to fight him too.
Catherine Daly reviews Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy King Antidotes for an Alibi BlazeVox Books ISBN 0-9759227-5-0 2005These poems read to me like poetry versions of flash fiction. Now, I like flash fiction very much, but I like the more fabulistic kind.
Two Poems In black and white For the duration of Recovery
Since my wife and I are moving, or preparing to move, we've been going all through our clothes as most colonize must, to get ready 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 broadcast them today. I was a heavy drinker up to 1984 (some twenty years drinking), when I quite, and so these poems must have a little to do with it, a delicate evidence perhaps.
Death & the Supernatural: Poetry/Five Poems
Supernatural PoetryHere are five poems,-what I call-death and supernatural poems. Maybe a bit bizarre, a few stanzas may be, but with abiding subtlety of course, and a ting of acuteness, but we have to hag on if we want a good ride:1.
The King and Delka & Moiromma: the Cold Globe [Parts 25 and 26]
#25The King and Delka [Split Mawkishness-on Moiromma /Part V]Sickly SentimentalityI have hunted out friends Only to find rawness Of their passion; And the equivalence Of their vision.Who out there can know My highbrow verve?(Only the long dead)By King Moir I[Of Moiromma]Ah! the pointless outer space come back to his mind as he stands on his lanai looking up into he eerie dark.
You make me smile like I've seldom done before You give me a reason to want more and more..
I Hunted TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF Vegetation A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.I Sought after TO SAY IT WITH A PACK OF SWEETS A' HI' WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.
Find the Magic
FIND the MAGICFind the Magic As you circulate 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 amiability of a hugFind the Magic As the hardly 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 distinctive wonderFind the Magic As you eavesdrop to the conflicts and Watch in horror And emerge from the water whole and exquisite in a rainbow of colorsFind the Magic, For you are whole once againŠ 2004 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is an researcher, educator and author. Acquaintance her all the way through her web site http://www.
Arizona Blue--Gunfighter: The Wolves Nest [Chapter One of Seven: The North]
[Episode Five]Arizona Blue-GunfighterThe Wolves Nest-in the North[Episode Five]Northern Minnesota Area-Winter of 1877Chapter One of Seven: The NorthThe area was known as Pigs Eye [St. Paul, Minnesota]; Northfield was a barely more notorious since Jessie James robbed the 1st Citizen Bank, in September of last year, and more to the West.
The Goat and the Rope [a Poem: in Spanish and English]
The Goat and the Ropewhere there were devils I saw none. nothing.
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an antediluvian background the civilization of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the conversation drums your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your perpetual minstrels have i not heard of your alternation hips! i have heard a sufficient amount and have come to watch wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribes the timid tribes of your syrupy tongues the different tongues of your good menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the nurse earth your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa your kings of the antique dynasty the antediluvian family of rusted spear and shield africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awake pelting on men as well, the gods gathering itself drop by drop.
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
English Version1) Grendel's DivorceYou must know that I do not hateAnd that I hate you, Because the whole thing dead has twoSides; A sound is one arm of the quiet, Ice has its warm half.I hate you in order to start hating you To begin life again And never to stop hating you: That is why I do not hate you yet.
A World That Doesnt Care
War bombs may explode demolishing man and land. Hurricanes may devastate and leave us exclusively bare.
Looking Out the Rear Window
The funeral rite concluded With the minister shaking hands, Offering words of comfort I didn't quite understand.The undertakers came forth And summoned pallbearers' four.
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