Stone beds [a poem and an advance] - poetry
Advance: after the great flare-up of Pompeii's adjoining volcano, Vesuvius, some two-thousand years ago in the glory days of the Roman Empire, what was left of the city were commonly ashes of stone from an unleashing furnace; it is hard to conceive of what the ancestors went by means of (none, not one anyone survived). I can only guess from the looks of the city today, and in its early excavations, its colonize were baked alive or asleep, like pottery. In many cases, beds were twisted into stones. I have been to Italy twice, and Pompeii, most be the most furious archeological sites in the world.
For those not customary with Pompeii, (the city, for there was also a Broad-spectrum in the Roman Army, called Pompeii, whom gave his name to the city), for those folks, let me clarify: just the name stimulates deep slurs if not down right lurid emotions.
Pompeii is located by the Bay of Neapolis. The time of the eruption, was A. D. 79. Pompeii, was a choice city, as you might think of Los Vegas. It was the Roman Empires richest city, with deluxe villas, and all seemed to live a most enjoyable lifestyle. This city reminds me of the Titanic, and Sodom and Gomorra. Yes, Pompeii was a most dishonest and violent city, or town-let, as some would have it.
Skulls tainted from
Dim and faint was their fate.
The shapes of bodies?;
In clay pottery!. . .
Note: 5/8/05 #642
Author/Poet Dennis Siluk, http://dennissiluk. tripod. com
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I Sought TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF Plant life A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.I Sought after TO SAY IT WITH A PACK OF SWEETS A' HI' WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.
Azra, Azra, Wake up Azra. Wake up Azra, It is time to go.
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 nonentity else has ever loved me in my life.
A Assorted Place...
I wish we had met 20 years ago..
The Spirits de Copan
Part oneI see them in the skies I hear them in their hells They murmur and they moanAnd never are alone- The Spirits and the Ghouls? The Spirits de Copan!They are darkness in my world Echoes in my dreams A mystery and a force To a cosmic happening! The Spirits and the Ghouls? The Spirits de Copan!..
New Poetic Work By Ethiopian Colonist Promotes Respect, Courage And Cultural Sensitivity
McLean, VA - "The Curing Conscious" tells the story of an Ethiopian refugee boy on his fascinating journey to America and adulthood. Biographer Kifle Bantayehu, a 23 year-old second-generation Ethiopian immigrant, recounts this affecting tale in poetic format.
Let Your Feelings Be Your Guide
The light of all eternity shines with me now / My feelings light up my life / How I find my way is indomitable by them / They light up my path and show me who I amWhen I was young, I felt so many equipment / Then came the day when I could not stand the pain / My world was chaos then, full with be sad and grief / So I clogged up to keep that fragile Self withinYears would go by already I could open again / I was artificial to by position away from my check / Life dealt me blows which I later accepted as my own / To get up me to that be distressed deep inside my SoulI worked hard to find my way back to the Light / To that place inside where I could feel once again / There my Heart shone forth with a brave face / And shed light on all that I had concealedNow I see how I blocked that tender-hearted Self / How I froze in the face of my fortune / Troubles swirled about as a devoted basis of grief / And I fell to sleep out of fearI am arousing now to the deep void surrounded by / Where I've stored all those troubles and pain / I fight my way back to that base once again / So I can come forth absolutely and be trueMy life moves ahead as of this day / When I committed to judgment my true Self / I've engaged all conduct of demons on this journey / To come back to that Cause deep insideI wish for life to fill me now and bring all it can / I am dry for come into contact with and for augmentation / I want bountiful assets from my Soul to fill me / So that I can truly enjoy all that I beholdThis work is at times challenging as I have erudite / But no more than any task requiring Love / This journey enriches me with its determination / And fills me with Life and SoulThis is my gift to myself, my own holy Soul / To have, to hold and to see / This Heart that bled is now curative its wounds / And can be in the black again from what Life bringsLet there never be a benefit to where hurts cramp me up / And fill me with acidity and pain / I am awake now, yes, and can move ahead / To be conscious of all that Life has assignedOh glory to you, my Sweet Soul, for advent this day / I thank you from the floor of my Heart / We two can sing as one the praises of Love / That take us accelerate on this journey all the way through timeNever let it be said that one so deserving / Could not find his or her way Home / All whom will admire shall see this Light in turn / And know that their journey can be wonI take you with me now, my Sweet Soul / For you are here in my hands / Where I can observe you / And together, we can be so bold"Move on," you say to me. "Move on, my love / The Light requirements for us to do so" / And my Heart sings with the promise / So that "Yes" is the fulfil I can render with easeMy Heart is full with Love and joy in this jiffy / Knowing that I am with you, my Soul / My feelings tell me you are there and at all times were / Till that sleep came over me before onBy beginning to your touch do I know You / And find my own truth there in your eyes / You show me all through Love what my aim can be / I am inspired by this caring designI am happy we are here together, in this life / I am delighted that our love is so bright / For now I can reach you, my Sweet Soul Inspirational / When you call to me from deep contained by my HeartI have your counter Dear, and know this to be true / That you and I are everlastingly to be born / In this life or another, we join with each other / And We Soar .
Ballade of an Inca King
Ah! Leave the gold, wealth and landSays the Inca King?; In Spain, they leave the full of go streets, For sail to Peruvian shores;The mumble of the gold is sweet,It glows and glistens like the sun A mountain of gold, or the grave Awaits the human, Inca-god?!Spaniards sing their songs of victoryWhere breaks the green Peruvian sea; Who now, worships the Inca King (?) Guarded after prisons doors-?They babble about his blonde ringsThey watch the winds cross the shores? They count the days that idle by, For gold they worship and will die.Envoy.
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
The Art of Getting Poetic Critique
You can show your poem to your mom, your spouse, your co-workers, or your friends, but you might not get the responses that you can suck up into your a small amount copy fingers to use in an energy to refine your craft. What does it actually mean when a big shot who cares about you, but not for poetry says, "Wow, this is great.
Welcome to the Town of Feeling
Happy, Sad, Mad and Glad, Moved in down the streetCautious watched them, from her window, Wondering, which one ought to I meet?Confused came in with overwhelmed and said, "The Panics have come to town"Then Hopeful called the carefulls, And said that Happy was a clown.Anxious came in with the news, Confident had called a town meetingTo take a vote for Mayor, And to Acceptable the new neighbors to Feeling.
JOINEDHeart beat of man pounding - yet unheard joined becomes the beat of a nation.Words of man written - yet unread joined becomes a proclamation.
Testimony to the Night [In English and Spanish]
In the quiet of the freezing night- In its deep northern skies, Dim are the lights, in its coldEvening frost?! Even the stars of the arctic Seem without a sound stone frozen!Here, here is where you find Peace and the beast within-! Remote, no ears or wordsTo encumber the mind To ensconce the throat; Here, here is where you die?(for a moment).Here, the sky has eternal eyes Eyes with cosmic tides Tides that never rest: they warWith the Universe- Likened to a dark deep abyss; Endless and never resting?Here my eyes seek and search In countless hours, ebbing and Sweeping the heavens aboveNumbing, changeless- Are the cosmos, the heavens? Here resides a astonishing peace?Here, resides a alien peace With an army of stars to defeat Shinning, noiselessly in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark; Time has no bearing here, Here, resides a strange, peace?Cold and oddly numb are my feet, As I look up, upon the many bridges One star bridging the next-as if,If Kings and Queens were Guarding them-the Hosts- O-Yes! A strange, astonishing peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee Flaming, blistering firmaments-ye, Ye, prompt me not, of the wars I left,Of the foes, divine immortals?The enemies that never rest Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to theeI hear music, harmony from afar (there) There are storms buried in a storehouse, For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust; There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's be a consequence 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 adhere to the poet to his end; To see if he can?whatever He wants to do, do over again?.
Chan Chan and The Gorriones (Two Poems in English and Spanish)
The subsequent two poems, one in English, the other in English and Spanish were done at some stage in this ongoing trip in Peru, while in Lima, while the poem concerning: Chan Chan was oriinally ongoing last year,while at the antique site in Northern Peru, it was just complete recently.The Gorriones of LimaIt is fall all about me-The Gorriones are swimming in the air Underneath the Lima skyAs if-, if fish could fly?Summer has gone its wayIt is fall again I say! The birds-, they just walk on byLooking, as if, if on parade-AndThe world keeps spinning;They just do not see it Until the hour comes?When the sun goes down!?When,Things get a barely dim;Yet the Gorriones keep on swimming Gracefully, swimming, in the wind-Under the Lima sky? .
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 anyone 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 exceedingly 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 be furious 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..
Exalted Poetry; Two poem [and commentary]
Bells for Belphegor!..
The Last King of Mars [A Poetic Mytho]
[As Told by the Last] King: it was in the year 23,700 BC that one of the two moons of earth was hit by a meteor that of which, a great part of the moon broke off and hit earth's apparent with a devastating impact. Thus the solar coordination absorbed a deluge in incredible proportions, from Jupiter to Mars; knocking Earth out of its 100,000-year Ice Age.
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.
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