Two poems: black poncho, and spirits of de copan [in english and spanish] - poetry
12) Black Poncho
(of Saint Cosme Hill, by Lima, Peru)
Lost in the grottos of Peru-
?in the form of baking fruit;
By using his cloak to pull
Henceforward, he was swindled
Note: In rank taken from a amount of conversations with the locals of Lima, Peru (and my father-in-law) exceptionally from a banter with Hernan Espinoza, a attendant in Lima, Peru, as he remembered it (the year being: l945); 5-4-2005; #625; there is also a further side to this man, one that is careful to more on the side of Robin Hood,the thief; as Papa Augusto would have it.
Versión en Español
(del Cerro San Cosme en Lima, Perú)
Perdido en las grutas de Perú-
?en la forma de fruta chamuscada;
Usando su cloak para jalar
Después, él fue estafado
Note: La Información fue obtenido de una conversación con Hernan Espinoza, un camarero en Lima, Perú, así como él lo recordó (Año: 1945); Mayo 4 del 2005; Nro. 625
13. The Spirits de Copan
I see them in the skies
And never are alone- The Spirits and the Ghouls?
They are dimness in my world
These spirits hide in antique stones
In ebbing darkness
They are no man's friend
The Spirits de Copan (have)-:
These were the kings
In the Great Plaza
A spirit, let known (In its treacherous vacuum):
As I looked towards
The grand palaces I replied
And I walked away
Note: in black and white while visiting the Copan Valley, and site, in Honduras; in black and white amid 4-24/25-2005, #630.
Versión en Español
13. Los Espíritus de Copan
Los veo en los cielos
Y nunca están solos- Los Espíritus y los Demonios ?
Ellos son sombras en mi mundo
Estos espíritus se ocultan en piedras antiguas
En sombras que bajan
Ellos no son amigo del hombre
Los espíritus de Copan (tienen)-:
Estos fueron los reyes
Conejo de Humo
En Gran Plaza
Un espíritu, deja conocer ( En su trémula respiracion):
Como miré hacia
Los palacios imponentes Contesté
Y me alejé
Note: escrito en la visita al Valle Copan, y lugar arqueologico, en Honduras. Escrito entre Abril 24 y 25 del 2005, Nro. 630.
Dennis Siluk is a writer, careful by Marissa Cardenas, reporter for the Correo Newspaper, of Peru who says: ". . . his distinction is acknowledged worldwide as a sort of 'ambassador' of every kingdom that he visits copy on their peoples, their histories and customs. . . alike to Julio Verne. . . " website: http://dennissiluk. tripod. com [see http://www. amazon. com or bn. com]Rosa P.
A Case of The Fears
Chicken Soup is good for a coldSleep is good for the FluWhen I get a case of the FearsWhat is a being to do?It is not bacteriaAlthough it can eat away my soulIt is not a virusYet, it can keep me from air wholeI know what will do the trick,What will put me back on top,A great big bowl of Ice CreamWill especially hit the spotThat was great and now I am doneOne bowl just won't doIf one is good, then more is greatAnd now I have eaten two.Bowls three, four, five and sixCame and then they wentI think my case of the fears are fixedLook at how my time was spentI am being paid sleepyIt is time to go to bedMy fears are no longer in my stomachNow they are in my headI close my eyes and I can boil Fears I want to killI will do, at all it takesTo keep the monsters still.
You make me smile like I've seldom done before You give me a reason to want more and more..
A Death in Cajamarca, Peru (Atahualpa, in Cajamarca ((in English and Spanish))
The Epic Poem:A Death in Cajamarca, Peru [Atahualpa, in Cajamarca]Advance: This is a version, not a rendition of any kind, on the custody and death of Atahualpa the Inca King of the Inca Empire, in the 16th century (Peru).Atahualpa, lasting in Cajamarca Greeted by De Soto, his free associate from Spain! "Be Calm! These times will be tolerant to you.
The Valley Of Pain
We were exiled from the Backyard of Eden. Its sinless wonders nevermore to regain.
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
Poems have atypical cores, or so I believe, and can only be structured well for a number of allegorical language-heart beats; like all counselors are not made for all clients, so all poems are not made for the same person, or purpose; when we read we all have our likes and dislikes; I do not automatically know what poetry is per se, but I do know what the eminence of poetry has, and great poetry is close to an illusion?it carries an echo I do believe-figurative yes, at best, and questionable yes, by far. Here are five poems I've a moment ago wrote, all with a altered core, focus and style.
Ode To Quetzalcoatal [Now in Spanish and English]
Ode to QuetzalcóatlQuetzalcóatl the GreatNo one knew his true name, so they Called him Quetzalcóatl-feather Serpent He and his crew of nineteen: faces Strange faces, descriptions of a prince, a lord: King of the Yucatan in the year 986 ADHe was a tall man; long cloths, sandals; White as day, with a long beard, black hair. Some say red: some don't say? But they called him priest, Lord, king Amongst many things: god!.
Ode to: The Ice Maiden of Ampatos Apex [now in: English and Spanish]
Dedícate to Antonio Castillo. L.
Lamenting Poetic Moods [six Poems]
Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, aesthetic impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the admired 8-syllable verse (ballad metre).
Asha of Darfur [A poem with a commentary by the author]
Asha of DarfurCry, cry-oh hardly 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 howling hardly 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!..
The Treasure of Catalina Huanca (In English and Spanish)
Note: in print after bearing in mind the barely 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.
In The Midst Of All
In the midst of darkness, there is light. In the midst of evil, there is virtue.
Ambiguity and Abstraction in Bob Dylan's Lyrics
To many colonize contemporary poetry is a turn-off. The aim for this is that the bulk of these poems are boring.
Poetry in Turbulence
To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is acutely unsatisfying. There are quite a few reasons for this, but two in detail come to mind.
Life is a Fantasy
LIFE IS A FANTASY!A pink-eyed rabbit, fuzzy whiteHops in bedrooms packed with frightA child of six with much to knowHer father's basest feelings showShe knows of LOVE, only all the way through himHe satisfies his every whimHe leaves, she wipes himfrom her chin!Her nurse NEEDS to see the bestHe answered her God requestTo have a roof to comfort bringA yard where all the birdies singTell me how she could actually knowWhat find for education could she go?Her look after commonly beaten if not worseThe cycle of violence - a woman's curseConflicting visions, dependenciesOne can continue many idiosyncrasiesShe could not make him defendant beDenial, avoidance? she disbelievesThe rabbit hides beneath tall trees.At thirteen a step-grandfatha'Finds a well-trained girl that oughta'Do what brawny men requestNever conscious what is bestAnd run away she does at lastFreedom can be such a 'blast'A rabbit's foot upon a chainThe FANTASY her 'safe' domainHow long in life must it remain?To care for her from these menWho at all times for her lips, do 'yen'A state trooper in Tennessee Like every other man does see Her lips so full and delicious red Through the bars, not in a bed.
Ole Bulky Jeeps & Paper, Ink and Rain [two Peoms]
Ole Bulky JeepsThrough late summer's heat These bulky shaped jeeps Ride by house and farm City and barn-Hungry for Spring-again, in suspense to avoid The Slipping and sliding Of winter's ice and wind?[s]Their bulky legs are dirty From heartrending dust and rain (Here and there, everywhere) Through all kinds of terrain Like affecting clouds caught In the shrubbery of the woods? They never slow down a ting They have a duty, and give.It's part of how they live- In military-, bulky ole jeeps!.
Three Poems (While in Transition/English and Spanish)
Here are three more poems by the author, Dennis Siluk, while peripatetic througout Crucial and South America.Three Poems While in Transition (In Spanish and English)Poem OneEnglish VersionOrange Timid MoonO´er the Copan skyan arch of dimness weave their webswith low-lights, as the moon rises.
Thank You To Our Soldiers And A Duty To Old Glory And A Prayer For Peace
Thank youDedicated to soldiers and their loved onesFor those who have laid in fox holes,carried guns,marched for hours.For those who have had cold restless nights,endless days of discomfort.
Footprints to Mantaro Valley (a poem in Spanish and English)
Footprints to Mantaro Valley (English version)In what back away art hid?-Where declining mountains groan In shadow and amongThe fast-moving water of the Rio? Is not your name Mantaro Valley?Beyond the path of the Andes--?I can hear your voice in echoesI can hear thy voice, beautifully low. I do but know thy by a glanceAs the clouds above me know? .
Three Poems: Apparition of the Rocks; Lady from Lima & Bell Ringer of de Copan
Phantom of the Rocks[Huancayo, Peru]Night falls deepUpon the traveler!Low, over the AndesBy Huancayo-;They know a legend,Not of this earth,Where evil lurks(Over Palla-Huarcuan!..
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