Crack of dawn at pikes creek [a poem] - poetry
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [Summer of 2005]
Daybreak by Lake Superior Rising out of the woods like: A swamp mist I'm behind you for breakfast
(at the B&B) I pace the grounds The scent of green shrubbery: Trees, flora, flowers-rain Intoxicates me- Branches like big brown arms Descend? The embankment, to the right Blue eyed, like mine-reflect From the creek beneath me (my wife says 'be careful' she went to get the camera) The greens and blues touch My face and blue jeans- Reflections mirrored like Musical notes of a symphony (I'll see them later in pictures) For now, it's daybreak In Minnesota.
Note: the author, Dennis Siluk, took his wife Rosa [me: on my birthday] to Lake Superior, this summer, and I highly thought of the main lake in the world. We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast, just exterior a few miles from Bayfield, Wisconsin. As we had gotten up for breakfast, we walked beyond and into the woods in back of the B&B, and then back towards the House [Pinehurst Inn], and naked to the side of us was an embankment, and the poet, my husband, had to climb down the twenty feet to the Creek, and I took a consider of him gazing into the creek, a most appealing conjure up with all the reflections of crack of dawn in it. It will be used for the new book of poetry: "Peruvian Poems," to be out next month. Rosa Peñaloza
Poet Dennis Siluk see his books at http://dennissiluk. tripod. com and his travels
The Poets Area [Three Poems with a review]
The Poet's Corner [Three poem/ see appraise of poetry under the poems]The Poets CondorThe condor fly's Amongst the hillsIn open skies Of San Jerrónimo, Near Huancayo?Forbidding any To near his path-Lest he dare To risk a attack, Near Huancayo!..
Never Ever More
Once upon a midnight dreary, coffee cold and apparition bleary, all night sat there journalism COBOL, coding apply diagonally the bed sheets, changing sentence structure for the mainframe, having check 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 nobody more.
Poems have atypical cores, or so I believe, and can only be structured well for a few allegorical language-heart beats; like all counselors are not made for all clients, so all poems are not made for the same person, or purpose; when we read we all have our likes and dislikes; I do not automatically know what poetry is per se, but I do know what the distinction of poetry has, and great poetry is close to an illusion?it carries an echo I do believe-figurative yes, at best, and questionable yes, by far. Here are five poems I've a short time ago wrote, all with a assorted core, focus and style.
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 coldness about the corner-; As the flies disappear, with the mosquitoes? Leaves will soon vanish, darkness will come earlyMaybe he's belief 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, most 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.
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a shiny alien craft, And even as he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an immediate one off fine At a cash machine of his choice And they are glance all the time On his irises face and voice.And of course of action they find that he is not, They detect he just cannot be there, Although he seems as if he is visible, And has hands and toes and hair, If he is not on the Great Data Bank, He plainly and cleanly cannot be, He is not planned and he is not ranked He is certainly not like you and me.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I accept them, accept you, honor what you tell me and even although I know where you're appearance from, I just sought after to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
Four Poems: Two for the Devil, Two for Peru
Here is some witty poetry (not sure if that is the apt word: witty, but it will do): one poem on the Aztec year 2012, a year that has been in the public's eye quite a lot; one on cloning, and the biblical end time events--which, if I may add seems ripe for the monster procedures that are said to take place; and two poems big business with some tradtions of Peru; one imparticular, on vacationing, where not to go; all the makings for some thought.Aztec BabyOn December 25, 2012 AD The Devil had an idea- He'd clone himself In the form of a baby; Called the Antichrist.
A Poem - By Lorraine KemberIt was a day like any other and mother, father, sister, brother, were moving out the customs of their land. When all of a sudden lacking warning, Care for Character came calling, shook the earth and stole the ocean from the sand.
Poetry in a Nutshell
Poetry is more than just rhyming and prose that is in meters and verse. It is an art form.
Mechanical Poetry; Part Two
What do you do when you want to write poetry? I hope your fulfil is "I start writing." Even copy a bad poem is advance than ahead of you for the "right words.
Passion and Poetry, and Life
Ironically, the passion that can counteract the loathing for difficulties depends on the energy to overcome these difficulties. The irony resides in the circularity of this attitude - which applies to all areas of activity, as well as poetry: One must make the energy to overcome difficulties to attain accomplishment and feel capable, and one needs this achievement and ambiance to have a passion for building this effort.
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 apprentice has asked, from Harvard all the way to the cooperation school 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 assorted answers.
Two Poems with Triggers [and a commentary]
So Many Einstein'sThe dawn mist, insists there is a God. The earth cadaver faithful to its orbit.
Ocean Heal Me
Ocean Heal MeOcean heal my wounds Let your waves curl and foam on my body Wash away blood, heal scarsOcean renew me with your power As interminably you roll Giving depth that's been drainedOcean keep me warm Wrap me in your brine Caress me with your tidesOcean disband my tears As they flow in you I rinse my soulOcean let me grow in your depths Color me brilliant blue, coral, green Clear = revitalizedOcean your spray anoints me Cool and refreshed My spiritual renewalOcean be my friend Hold me flowing in your currents Ever moving, ever changingOcean, heal me.© 1983 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is a researcher, cause and teacher.
"I heard what you said, Red. Yet, I have to disagree.
Become A Poet In Ten Minutes
Have you ever sat there staring at the paper, ready to write, but unsure where to begin? Want a clarification that will overcome even the worst writer's block? Everybody can start journalism poetry today using a few clean techniques.One, two, .
Welcome to the Town of Feeling
Happy, Sad, Mad and Glad, Moved in down the streetCautious watched them, from her window, Wondering, which one be supposed 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 Appreciated the new neighbors to Feeling.
Shadows of the Andes; Ollantayambo; and Cesar Vallejo [Poems in English and Spanish]
1) Darkness of the Andes [or: Song to the Andes]I shall blend-in, into theMountains- Into the faintest thinShadowsof the mountains! Like the moss on moistenedStoneLike a leaf blown far fromHome?(freshly fallen)!I shall blend-in, clingingTo the mountains- Into its faintest thinShadowsNote: when I at home back home from Peru, my 7th trip in five years [April, 2005], I had spend about 30-days this time on the trip. I visited the Mantaro Valley, Huancayo, and drove all through the Andes.
The Plane from Iquitos [1959-Part One]
Iquitos & the Amazon Part OneIt was December 2, l959, I was meeting on a small prop-plane exit Iquitos, Peru for a trip down the Amazon about the opening, the mouth of the mighty Amazon,--to Manaus. As we flew low one could see the waters of the Amazon, the city constantly impressed me, but more from this birds-eye view, you could see the mighty river in its squid like form, with all it tentacles [contributories: waters concerning to the river].
Four Poems: Collect of Enraged Domestic animals [Katrinas Pathway]
Four Poems: Katrina's PathwayHarvest of Beside yourself Horses ((Dedicated to: Katrina)) crisis)It has happened before: Nearby and afar, Where the four-horses of Apocalypse With their blazing nostrils Breathed in the fury of the winds Only to vomit out, disaster; - Then galloped away, Against pale faces!..
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