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Five poems from home [and a view on the earth vs. the poet] - poetry


Five Poems from Home

1) Remembering: Dorothy Parker
[Dedicated to the 1920s Poetess]

Let it be said,
Dorothy Parker lies dead,
cremated to ash and poetry; thus,
she died at the ripe old age
of seventy-three-.

The tiny woman with a big mouth,
who got fixed in the rain
and couldn't get out:
continued to play the game,
all the same,
like drops of rain
upon a pane.

#713 6/2005

2) Varying me

If I'd not be so frank

I'd not conceive such a stink.
If I'd not be so stubborn,

I'd sleep well in the summer.
If I'd not curse at the bad

I'd be happier and glad.
But I shall hang about the way I am

Because I don't give a damn!

#712 7/5/05

3) Inertia

When I was young
Strong and bold
Right was wrong,

Wrong was right;

My heart opened out,
My mind soaring
I marched away?
And looked for glory

But I am old
And the world is so
Battles won, lost
It is time to stop;

I now let go.

#711 6/2005

4) The Wake of E. T. S

As soon as you had died

They cremated you,
I couldn't look at their faces

Of rush and kindness;

Nor pass my hand in theirs

Or bend my knees,
Or have them, watch me,

Mournful eyed.

I hope you didn't wait

For me at the wake,
I did my goodbyes at

The café ?

?and left to mend my soul

So stagnated and paralyzed

I became,

You would have laughed

Had you seen such
A thing!. . .

#710 6/2005

5) Characteristics Dreams

Nature dreams
And when she wakes
To find the human
Disposition stinks
She expresses
Then neurotically
Just like we!. . .

#708 6/2005

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

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