The ballad of: brawling mad-dog sergeant rook [now in: spanish and english] - poetry
A bunch of us guys in the hut
And scrutiny from a distance
When out of the night, he wanted
I hunted to fight him too.
He wobbled like a duck as I
Blocked his punch-
(for I was drunk too),
There was no man, could beat
This bear of a brut,
And such was I, as he looked
With the face of bulldog
And a deadly stare
And when I came down
This mad-dog Sergeant Rook!
I pierced my fingers into his flesh
In echoes he cursed insanities-
As his subordinate cheered him on
Note: 699 5/31/05
La Balada de :
Un grupo de nosotros los muchachos en la choza
Y mirando desde una distancia
Cuando hacia fuera de la noche, él quiso
desee lucharlo también también.
Él se bamboleó como un pato asì, yo
(por que yo también estaba borracho),
No había ningún hombre, que podría golpear
Este oso de un brut,
Y tal era yo, como él miró
Con la cara de bulldog
Y un mirada fija mortal
Y cuando bajé
¡Este Sargento Rook perro rabioso!
Perforé mis dedos en su carne
En ecos él maldijo locuras-
Como su compañero lo alentó
¡Esto fuè tras de La guerra, en Vietnam!. . .
Note: 699 5/31/05
Poet/Author Dennis Siluk, produces a ballad of Vietnam, an occurance, where more truth resides than fiction. The Biographer lives in St. Paul, Minnesota and Lima, Peru; and was a soldier in the Vietnam war
How I admiration what he's doing as I sit alone at night. How I admiration who he's seeing How I admiration if I'm right.
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, metaphors 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!.
A World That Doesnt Care
War bombs may explode demolishing man and land. Hurricanes may devastate and leave us fully bare.
Article on Poetry and Two Poems
Writing Poetry for TomorrowWhat does a man need to be a poet, or tomorrow's literary giant? Questions many a learner has asked, from Harvard all the way to the convergence seminary in one's hometown. What is the answer? Well, I can give you mine, and I'm sure if you asked a hundred writers, or a hundred scholars, you'd get two hundred altered answers.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Argument of How Do I Love Thee?
"How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was in black and white in 1845 while she was being courted by the English poet, Robert Browning. The poem is also patrician Limerick XLIII from Sonnets From the Portuguese.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked confidential my head And found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him, I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem from him-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
House of the Hobgoblin [Part Two of Three/with notes]
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]Here is where, where the air is stillAnd the mountains gloom disappear! Here is where, without a number spirits dwellWhere harp and recall expire?Where the rainbow-leaps, from itsStoreroom-keep, and cries; And the sands along the lot coastEcho then die?as in sleep?;And where charm turns into ghouls!..
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 lot 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.
The Botch of Lima and Road to Mantaro Valley (Two Poems)
Footprints to Mantaro Valley (Peru; in English and Spanish)In what departure art hid?-Where diminishing mountains groan In shadow and amongThe white water of the Rio? Is not your name Mantaro Valley?Beyond the road 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? .
An Old Wood Pile [a poem with notes]
Old skin, once held tight Against her skeleton- Rose no more, just draped Loosely over unpadded flesh; Un-tightened muscles, and tissue, Lost its courage, no-fortitude-, Gone are the days and years That stood aligned with the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmark Hidden under flesh and blood Guts and moral fiber, backbone? Collapsed from drudgery Time, time: cascading inside-. Bones now leave-taking impressions Accepting fate Like discolored silver!.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I accept them, accept you, honor what you tell me and even even if I know where you're appearance from, I just required to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
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 certain subtlety of course, and a ting of acuteness, but we have to hag on if we want a good ride:1.
The Man Who Could Not Say Sorry For His Sins
Sorry would be a start.Though you cant take back your mistakes, and you cant disentangle time, you'd think there would be remorse, for such a self helping crime, to send others out to die, to pay the blood price you have decreed, when its completely bluster and posing, all about arrogance and greed, to acquire a perceived niche in history, glowing down the years, is the coverage of your ambition, is the puny limit of your fears, when those you have sent to die, believing implicitly in you, leave relatives at the back of who see, that nonentity you said was true, there is no accepted wisdom now for those, whose amount you dont count, they are yesterdays forgotten, though daily they still mount, no belief of resignation, no admission of guilt to those left behind, just forward with the ego, fast ahead from those times, as if nobody ever happened, as if your lies are quite ok, as if now is what to focus on, and then was a new day, lost back in the mists of time, obscured by clouds half seen, not an cause offense to the living, not impeachable and obscene, you may want to move on now, and close the eyes to your past infamy, but you ought to be tried for treason, and caged for blasphemy.
Lord Byrons She Walks in Beauty
Lord Byron's aperture ode to "She Walks In Beauty" is among the most memorable and most quoted lines in romantic poetry. The breach lines are effortless, graceful, and beautiful, a appropriate match for his poem about a woman who possesses natural grace and beauty.
Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems]
Grandpa's House [The ole Real House]The house considered necessary painting Sun-blistered and flaking Grandpa on track to have us Boys-Mike and I- start Doing some scraping-While he, pealed off the ole Paint, and on track painting?Just a humble impassive house With numerous rooms, but Strong a sufficient amount to keep the Winds and chill snows out, How he loved that ole house!..
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.
Im Sorry Mom! A Mothers Day Poem
Mother's Day Poetry,I'm Sorry Mom!I'm sorry for the troubles And the doubts I brought you. I'm sorry for my mistakes, I didn't mean to make you blue.
The Game of Life
When your life becomes unbearable And the light of agree ceases to glow, When all your dreams and aspirations Lie inactive on ambition's death row.When you feel that all is hopeless, Life troubles just seem to abound.
There are many times I set up barriers and walls, invisible but for you come too close, And then you hit them.You amazement what happened.
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 like a ghost stone frozen!Here, here is where you find Peace and the beast within-! Remote, no ears or wordsTo disorder the mind To cement 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 alien peace?Here, resides a curious peace With an army of stars to defeat Shinning, mutely in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark; Time has no application 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, curious peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee Flaming, baking 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 concealed in a storehouse, For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust; There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
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