Three poems: liberty, death, and a frog [with commentary on liberty] - poetry
Summer grows hot, for the
Night fritters-away in sleep.
Rain drops for the frog.
A Death Overnight
Overnight she died
As she lived, so she died.
The air is not the same,
Nobody stops by to see
Earless and eyeless
My love for her has curved
They Hear America No More!
It once had seemed a hardly thing,
But now I'm old-, no cares have I
Note [by the author]: "Our Constitution, perhaps, the most advantageous deed we have in America, or that the world has ever seen-which is the law of the land, seems to be losing ground in value; it was made for the people, not for the government, like most constitutions are. It doesn't be relevant who says this, or that. Be it the Supreme Court Judges that seem to have ongoing issues; and presidents that come and go. It is even if the Constitution that remains, and when judges establish their own will into it, it no longer holds the value it should. It is like charitable a piece peace to -to a big shot who starts wars, it diminishes the price value, which I've seen too often. It seems I witness so much of this nowadays; it's quite disturbing; and thus, our liberties fad with it. And so I have printed the poem, 'They Hear America No More,' I consider in protest. "
POet Dennis Siluk http://dennissiluk. tripod. com
Little Girl from Huancayo [a poem/in English and Spanish]
Little girl from HuancayoDo you really, especially know? Just how fast those feet will grow,On the streets of Huancayo.Little girl with jumping jacksOn the street, looking back; Back to see whose examination her,A barely boy with a bird.
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.
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 firm 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, overflowing with distress and grief / So I blocked up to defend that fragile Self withinYears would go by beforehand I could open again / I was compulsory to by situation away from my be in command of / Life dealt me blows which I later acclaimed as my own / To get up me to that distress deep in my SoulI worked hard to find my way back to the Light / To that place contained by 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 bunged that tender-hearted Self / How I froze in the face of my fate / Troubles swirled about as a continual basis of grief / And I fell to sleep out of fearI am initiation now to the deep void contained by / Where I've stored all those troubles and pain / I fight my way back to that axis once again / So I can come forth finally and be trueMy life moves accelerate as of this day / When I committed to conclusion my true Self / I've engaged all behavior of demons on this journey / To benefit to that Find deep insideI wish for life to fill me now and bring all it can / I am craving for come across and for cyst / I want bountiful possessions from my Soul to fill me / So that I can truly enjoy all that I beholdThis work is at times challenging as I have cultured / 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 remedial its wounds / And can flourish again from what Life bringsLet there never be a come again to where hurts cramp me up / And fill me with animosity and pain / I am awake now, yes, and can move ahead / To be aware 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 at once the praises of Love / That take us advance on this journey by means of 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 regard you / And together, we can be so bold"Move on," you say to me. "Move on, my love / The Light requests for us to do so" / And my Heart sings with the potential / So that "Yes" is the counter I can render with easeMy Heart is overflowing 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 arousing 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 alert designI am content we are here together, in this life / I am delighted that our love is so beefy / For now I can reach you, my Sweet Soul Awe-inspiring / 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 eternally to be born / In this life or another, we join with each other / And We Soar .
Live For Today...
Isn't that what they say?But what does that mean?There's no clearness that mayanswer that question..
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's admire 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 be a consequence the poet to his end; To see if he can?whatever He wants to do, do over again?.
For My Mother
I cannot bear to think of when you will be gone.I do not understand how I will get along.
Why I enjoy Writing?
During interviews and broad-spectrum conversations with the public,one of the most challenging questions for me to answer(timely and thoroughly) is,"Why do you enjoy writing"?So due to the challenge manifested in such a question,I pondered on creating an answer. Many reasons came to mind,but after digesting much"time for thought",I managed to condense my reaction to three items.
Two Poems: Black Poncho, and Spirits of de Copan [in English and Spanish]
English Version12) Black Poncho(of Saint Cosme Hill, by Lima, Peru)Lost in the grottos of Peru- By the hills of Huancayo Black Cape was given A treasure of gold?; By none other than, Demonic goblins!?in the form of boiling fruit; Hence, Black Cape fooled The goblins of oldBy using his cloak to pull The scorching blond fruit Through the Andes to Lima, Peru!?Henceforward, he was swindled By a jeweler of dire repute. Thus, his life altered (as so often they do); And now he lives with: Thirty-five dogs, on San Cosme Hill.
Opposites Do Be a focus for Quite Well
When I am climbing up, you are stepping down. When I wear a smile, you wear a frown.
The Power of Drinking Disorders
I want to get closeI am afraid.Afraid of what you might see.
Breathing-in, Minnesota [a poem: now in Spanish and English]
In early fall, in Minnesota, the rain falls, falls, In buckets, buckets and more buckets-: drops Likened to music from its many streams-land Of ten-thousand lakes; moistened gravel, gravel Everywhere?Grandpa sits on the porch-daydreaming of, of Something, maybe frost about the corner-; As the flies disappear, with the mosquitoes? Leaves will soon vanish, dimness will come earlyMaybe he's assessment about summer: miles and miles And miles and miles of cornfields; his childhood now Long gone, he hums a hymn, a song; looking at the Metal-piped fence, he made, with three poles, on the Embankment, important up the steps to the porch; It's worn-out like him.The winds in Minnesota smell fresh, fresh from all The foliage, there's a lot of it.
Key Largo - Frater Albertus
Key Largo:The fans turn languidly in front of the doorThey open wide screening mangroves galoreAn egret in the everglades stalks its preyHaltingly it walks along its wayOn a different clear and sunny dayA woman's floppy hat shades her beauty not so brittleThe shiny scarf that holds the hat flutters just a littleShe pauses in the threshold of the doorSurveying what she's looking forShe is looking above-board at meHer beauty flaunted all to see.'Where are you from?' while noticing I had a frownOn the other couch she in a classy manner sits downIn the small hotel lobby bar'A city north and very far.
My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition
She maybe can't bring to mind and I know I can never forget..
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 mutely stone frozen!Here, here is where you find Peace and the beast within-! Remote, no ears or wordsTo encumber the mind To establish 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 curious peace?Here, resides a bizarre peace With an army of stars to defeat Shinning, mutely in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark; Time has no consequence 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, bizarre peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee Flaming, burning firmaments-ye, Ye, be reminiscent 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 clandestine in a storehouse, For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust; There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
House of the Imp [Part Two of Three/with notes]
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]Here is where, where the air is stillAnd the mountains dimness disappear! Here is where, without a number spirits dwellWhere harp and reminiscence expire?Where the rainbow-leaps, from itsStoreroom-keep, and cries; And the sands along the bushel coastEcho then die?as in sleep?;And where fascination turns into ghouls!..
Never Ever More
Once upon a midnight dreary, coffee cold and ability to see bleary, all night sat there characters COBOL, coding allot crosswise the bed sheets, changing language rules for the mainframe, having tartan my final line, I took the floppy from the drive.Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command, but there below my effectuation, appeared the cryptic communication, "Abort, Retry, Ignore" and nil more.
Three Poems [Lima; Judges and Evils Creation]
1.Evil's CreationThou knowith evil clings To tender peace-; Nor does it heed one's drowsy Un-enthralled grief?But delicately it darkens Twilight's dunes-; With dash shadows Straight from the moon.
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 because of himHe satisfies his every whimHe leaves, she wipes himfrom her chin!Her protect 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 especially knowWhat find for education could she go?Her care for consistently 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 athletic men requestNever deliberate 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 guard her from these menWho continually for her lips, do 'yen'A state trooper in Tennessee Like every other man does see Her lips so full and succulent red Through the bars, not in a bed.
Im Sorry Mom! A Mothers Day Poem
Mother's Day Poetry,I'm Sorry Mom!I'm sorry for the troubles And the qualms I brought you. I'm sorry for my mistakes, I didn't mean to make you blue.
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 person along for the ride clone, just behind you for a train.Insidious rain, just showery down,through weak light of creeping dawn,Paper sandwich bags and old chocolate cups,blowing past, look so forlorn.
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