Five poems from home [and a view on the earth vs. the poet] - poetry
Five Poems from Home
1) Remembering: Dorothy Parker
Let it be said,
The tiny woman with a big mouth,
2) Varying me
If I'd not be so frank
I'd not conceive such a stink.
I'd sleep well in the summer.
I'd be happier and glad.
Because I don't give a damn!
When I was young
My heart opened out,
But I am old
4) The Wake of E. T. S
As soon as you had died
They cremated you,
Of rush and kindness;
Nor pass my hand in theirs
Or bend my knees,
I hope you didn't wait
For me at the wake,
The café ?
?and left to mend my soul
You would have laughed
Had you seen such
5) Characteristics Dreams
The Poet's Dilemma: Some poetry proclaims the end of human and divine character of clothes (what is left then, I don't know); and labels it 'Mans dilemma. ' Where in essence, it is certainly the 'Poet's dilemma,' I'd think. Let's see if we can sew up the dilemma. It is well understood, the earth lives, it has its own dimensions, divine and cosmic, as doe's man. The poetic excuse for the decay of characteristics is the description of man-so it has been said, but man is part of the animal planet-as the world is part of him; thus, maybe it has its own sins (the planet), its own captivating pull on man to do as it requirements him to do-perhaps, just maybe, perhaps.
Poet/Author Dennis Siluk his books can be appraisal at http://www. bn. com
In The Midst Of All
In the midst of darkness, there is light. In the midst of evil, there is virtue.
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 all through this ongoing trip in Peru, while in Lima, even if the poem concerning: Chan Chan was oriinally happening 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? .
It's dark, it's cold, its' just six thirty,thoughts of sleep still dull my brain,As I cluster down, exclusive my coat,a fare clone, just behind you for a train.Insidious rain, just drizzly down,through weak light of creeping dawn,Paper sandwich bags and old auburn cups,blowing past, look so forlorn.
Poetry and Common Culture
Is poetry too dense for the be around reader? Is it too cryptic, scholarly? If you ask a large group of be around colonize what they like or don't like about poetry, you'll get a few another answers, but there is an overpoweringly customary kind of responses.One of the main reasons that citizens say they aren't addicted to contemporary poetry is that they feel it is too cryptic.
The Mercantile of Copan [In English and Spanish]
English VersionThe Trade of Copan [480 AD]Advance: The ballgame at the Honduras quad in Copan, the year was 480 AD, Copan's 3rd ruler, Mat Head, whom succeeded Quetzal Macaw, whom was the come to grief of the city is now the new ruler. Mat Head, was a female, the husband of Quetzal Macaw, and here is where the story begins.
Burning Autumn Foliage [a poem in Spanish and English]
Burning Autumn Leaves [1950s in St. Paul, Minnesota]My long steel critical rake punctured And twisted because of tons of autumn leaves (back in the '50s); And there's a hill yet, I didn't rake, I see Behind it, two embankments Leaves I didn't rake a day ago; The essence of fall sleeps on the ground.
You can do and you can be whatever you want. You have the power, and the right, to make the changes.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Chat 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 upper-class Epic XLIII from Sonnets From the Portuguese.
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
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 famed of the Inca Kings, in the 16th century of Peru, I do relieve, and was held for payment by the Spaniards.
Because of You
You are to me my lifeline my security. That scares me.
Song of the Great Zimbabwe, and Silver and Inca Blood [Poems and notes]
"Song of the Great Zimbabwe"Across the African, winter's skyIn the Southern edge of Zimbabwe Looking down from the Hill ComplexFrom on top, of an Antique Rock O'er the mountains steep-:A, vista I've longed to see, residesA site, I've longed to meet-; Thus, dwells, contained by this African Valley,Among the best of man's feats? The great, Great Zimbabwe (Enclosure).A million-stones, built these antique wallsSome twelve-fathoms, fathoms high That seems to reach unto the sky;Some say: a fortress, and palace, it is; And perhaps-, the legendary 'Ophir!'#747 7/2/05Silver and Inca BloodIn the Great Silver mines of Potosi-(Inca Indians) Conscripted mine workersCarry Quotas of ore-up hundreds of feetOf rope laddered-steps For don Francisco de ToledoAnd King Philip II, of Spain-;A farcified ability to see to becomeRich-off Inca blood, In the year-1571?#744 7/1/05Notes: (The Inca Empire): the best guess is often that the Inca Empire was a large project of its self; a collective blunder at best; difficult for sure; but for the most part, the Inca Empire was comprised of ethnic groups who were conquered into the Inca Empire, analogous to the Roman, which was a city inhabitants [Empire] you might say, who under enemy control the whole world into its Roman Empire; likewise, so did the Incas of South America.
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 affection wholeI know what will do the trick,What will put me back on top,A great big bowl of Ice CreamWill certainly 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 receiving 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, anything it takesTo keep the monsters still.
The Treasure of Catalina Huanca (In English and Spanish)
Note: in black and white after bearing in mind the a small amount adobe 16th century cathedral 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.
How wonderfully sweet to be a dweller dwelling on the road of goodbye. Bittersweet tears fall as I think of all the chairs I'll never see, all the faces I'll never know, all the joys I'll never share, as I head for the unknown.
Infected Ideologies [a Poetic Portrait]
the disease of extremism is infectious-; whoever cannot think of their child growing up not including it is part of the phenomenon! (the alternative of the day). fanaticism,-- with a able ideology are seeds for suicide! murder: giving reasons to rage!.
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.
You make me smile like I've seldom done before You give me a reason to want more and more..
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 become weak away.
Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain
I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one extremely loved. We come to acknowledge the death and change our lives - instead begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive.
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