Man unbowed [a poem] - poetry
Unbowed by sin, the world of man, stands
Is this the handy work Satan made and gave?
What divides, is flanked by man and Satan!
O Adversary, lord of the air, ruler of earth,
How will you avow in that doomful hour?
Mr. Siluk was the winner of the magazine battle by "The Eldritch Dark [. com]," [a accolade to Clark A. Smith] for most no-expense-spared writer[contributor] for 2004 [with readership of some 2. 2-million]. And customary a communication of appreciation from Leader Bush for his many articles he in print in the internet magazine, "useless-knowledge. com," at some stage in his battle for president, 2004 [1. 2-million readership]. His website: http://dennissiluk. tripod. com
New Poetic Work By Ethiopian Refugee Promotes Respect, Courage And Cultural Sensitivity
McLean, VA - "The Curative Conscious" tells the story of an Ethiopian colonizer boy on his fascinating journey to America and adulthood. Cause Kifle Bantayehu, a 23 year-old second-generation Ethiopian immigrant, recounts this affecting tale in poetic format.
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's admire the poet to his Hell and heaven! Count his Ghosts and dilemma's?Reach out to touch his Stretched-out skies; let's follow The poet to see where he lays.Let's abide by the poet to his end; To see if he can?whatever He wants to do, do over again?.
The Plane from Iquitos [1959-Part One]
Iquitos & the Amazon Part OneIt was December 2, l959, I was session on a small prop-plane leave-taking Iquitos, Peru for a trip down the Amazon for the opening, the mouth of the mighty Amazon,--to Manaus. As we flew low one could see the waters of the Amazon, the city continually impressed me, but more from this birds-eye view, you could see the mighty river in its squid like form, with all it tentacles [contributories: waters involving to the river].
Asha of Darfur [A poem with a commentary by the author]
Asha of DarfurCry, cry-oh barely Darfur woman For your sister Janjaweed- [in Sudan's callous region-who was raped to death); Where rape and death run ramped;And Asha prays the Arabs don't' hear Here crying diminutive black tears? ?in fear she will be chained to a bedIn Darfur, by the insidious justice Of the Arabs, who run ramped?Ah, yes! In Darfur you've guessed, It is not a crime to raped and arrested; By the very one who raped, and terrorizedYou; it is the conquest?Satan's ribs!..
Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Debate of How Do I Love Thee?
"How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was in print in 1845 while she was being courted by the English poet, Robert Browning. The poem is also posh Epic XLIII from Sonnets From the Portuguese.
You cannot make a big cheese love you. All you can do is be a big cheese who can be loved.
Contract of Death [Now: in SPANISH and English]
Contract of DeathI heard today, the monk say: "Daniel has warned us long ago, Of the trials and troubles we Are now facing, with our foes?"He says the 'Antichrist' was now In Europe crying: 'peace,' and the 'Axis of Evil,' had before now placed Hidden Atomic Russian weaponsUnder our feet, here in the good Ole heart of the United States; 'Palestine's cry for peace,' he adds, Is a affluent Gun for Revelation 3:10;America. A 'Contract for Death,' Is what he called it.
I Required TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF Vegetation A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.I Required TO SAY IT WITH A PACK OF SWEETS A' HI' WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [a Poem]
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [Summer of 2005]Daybreak by Lake Superior Rising out of the woods like: A swamp mist I'm before you for breakfast(at the B&B) I pace the grounds The scent of green shrubbery: Trees, flora, flowers-rain Intoxicates me- Branches like big brown arms Descend? The embankment, to the right Blue eyed, like mine-reflect From the creek beneath me (my wife says 'be careful' she went to get the camera) The greens and blues touch My face and blue jeans- Reflections mirrored like Musical notes of a symphony (I'll see them later in pictures) For now, it's daybreak In Minnesota.#813 8/26/2005Note: the author, Dennis Siluk, took his wife Rosa [me: on my birthday] to Lake Superior, this summer, and I recognized the largest lake in the world.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I admiration them, abide by you, honor what you tell me and even even if I know where you're advent from, I just hunted to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
Three Sweet Poems, and Two Not So Sweet [now in: SPANISH and English]
1) End PoemWherever you are today- Is where you were meant to be; It's where God, dotted the 'i' and the 't'?!2) God's AngelsGod asked his angels: "Why do you look so sad?" Responded one angel: "Sir, we can't find the shade."3) An Empty SpaceOut of wisdom one will wait, travel far for love; the thirst will not kill them.
A Poem - By Lorraine KemberIt was a day like any other and mother, father, sister, brother, were haulage out the customs of their land. When all of a sudden lacking warning, Protect Character came calling, shook the earth and stole the ocean from the sand.
In Poetry: Denotation of Words [And ...Rocket-belt]
In Poetry: Gist of WordsWhen I write poetry, I check out the denotation of words for too often they sound the same, but once written, and if spelled wrong, in consequence, give a absolute assorted gist of what I had intended; this I call a instant of harm control. If my rhyme is flat, and my inflection is off, so what, I can survive, as long as the connotation of my words are not; and are as I meant them to be.
Two Poems on the Traditions of Peru [in English and Spanish]
Atahualpa's Game [Peruvian]Sometimes, it's not wise To share your wisdom ---as did, Atahualpa (The Inca King) in the Game of chess; thereafter, He was condemned to death.6/6/05 #713Note: Atahualpa, was the most illustrious of the Inca Kings, in the 16th century of Peru, I do relieve, and was held for liberate by the Spaniards.
Two Poems On paper At some stage in Recovery
Since my wife and I are moving, or preparing to move, we've been going by means of our clothes as most associates 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 bit to do with it, a feeble consideration perhaps.
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
Memoirs of a Wastelands Rim [a Poem: now in Spanish and English]
Memoirs of a Wasteland's RimIt still was light when she paused at the wasteland's rim- Over, the rim rest like a sleeping brute, a made of wood frame Adjacent to the blue where early stars hung like oil lamps Hanging from old beams and shade?the stiff frame Her grip fixed the beams, as she had fallen onto it Alone, she watched the forenoon, climbing about her A tramp woman, conspicuous by life, and at an angle dreams With beginning of hurt and molded muscle on her face Her be included fixed alongside the made of wood frame, She tried to jump, and lost her balance, lynching like a bird Now sipping the gloom in the ledge and horrified hopes She yielded ahead of the slow early payment of sunset Blood dripped, with her dying darkness And a cherry moon hurled a flame across The dark clouds, burning all through the sky The littered sky above her?Crossing the valley's floor her eye engrossed it Rocky images, main points Thrusting herself up brashly from to the ledge The painted crack of dawn blushed over the rim Her brows and nose, face alongside the sandstone stone Massive injuries was compelling form, Her outline balanced so languidly athwart the sun It was too great a task-to die alone?she wished now She had not jumped?a thousand feet below, yet to go. Too much for any woman in a lost world Out of the weak wood her mind had peace; She knew soon it would all be over-alas Mute and protesting alongside life's uselessness A narrow path lay below her meager body Between death and attainment, a careless foot The rocks beneath her weakening, she plunged Plunged to her death, in the figure hands of the valley Thinking of it, as she fell, accepted wisdom with a smiled, Saying, looking up-dead beforehand her echoes: 'Time is short?time is short?time is short!' When they found her, her face was courageous of falling.
I Hate The Wait (Weight)
I get up in the morningAnd want to stay in bedOh, so nice and warmLike fresh from the oven bread.My day is oh so busyI wish that I could stayIn the quiet of my houseIf only I could play.
Become A Poet In Ten Minutes
Have you ever sat there staring at the paper, ready to write, but unsure where to begin? Want a blend that will overcome even the worst writer's block? Everybody can start copy poetry today using a few austere techniques.One, two, .
Its What She Didnt Say
When I hear your voice exclusive my head it makes me think of you every free day as I fight back tears of desolation and amazement if you're okayMy life is empty devoid of you I wish time would take away the pain but the ache in my heart persists and my clean hopes seem in vainI achieve how much I hurt you and now I know it's too late to tell you how sorry I am and anticipate you not to hateI don't deserve a be with accidental to show you how much I care when you considered necessary me the most I know I abortive to be thereNow your trust in me is gone ceaselessly and I will never have the attempt to say I exceedingly hope your dreams come true and happiness finds you every dayI would give approximately no matter which in life if I could go back to that day and erase the whole lot I said and did to make your anguish go awayWhat hurts the most is this is what you didn't say and the deficiency of these words haunt me each and every day..
|home | site map|
|goldenarticles.net © 2018|