The power of ingestion disorders - poetry
I want to get close
I am afraid.
Afraid of what you might see.
Everything that makes me who I am.
The truth of my own reality.
The realism that I am scared.
Scared of not being perfect.
Scared of looking stupid.
Scared of being in the way.
Scared of being paid comfortable.
Getting comfortable means stability,
Stability means forever.
I dread forever.
So, I am ready,
to move on,
to carry on my journey,
To carry on my life. . . .
I AM READY!
Mary Pat uses her gift of poetry in hopes to help others find their own elite gifts. http://www. reflectingrace. com
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a hoary alien craft, And even as he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an minute one off fine At a cash point of his choice And they are inspection all the time On his irises face and voice.And of classes they find that he is not, They come across 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 basically cannot be, He is not programmed and he is not ranked He is assuredly not like you and me.
Chan Chan and The Gorriones (Two Poems in English and Spanish)
The next two poems, one in English, the other in English and Spanish were done at some point in this ongoing trip in Peru, while in Lima, even though the poem concerning: Chan Chan was oriinally happening last year,while at the antediluvian 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 hardly dim;Yet the Gorriones keep on swimming Gracefully, swimming, in the wind-Under the Lima sky? .
Anne Bradstreet, To My Dear and Loving Husband, A Discussion
"To My Dear and Loving Husband" was on paper by America's first female poet, the Puritan, Anne Bradstreet. In fact, Anne Bradstreet is one of only a handful of female American poets at some stage in the first 200 years of America's history.
Exalted Poetry; Two poem [and commentary]
Bells for Belphegor!..
Welcome to the Town of Feeling
Happy, Sad, Mad and Glad, Moved in down the streetCautious watched them, from her window, Wondering, which one must 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 Acceptable the new neighbors to Feeling.
My hero, my best friend, my Grannio (a.k.a my Grandmother)
She raised me like I was her own daughter from the day I was born 32 years ago.She loved me like insignificant person else has ever loved me in my life.
I AM SO Indebted for simpler times. Stores were congested on Sundays, TV shows seemed to make more sense, Family members spent ample time with each other, And ancestors were valued more than things.
A Ship to Remember
Poetry in Turbulence
To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is genuinely unsatisfying. There are a number of reasons for this, but two in actual come to mind.
Ole Bulky Jeeps & Paper, Ink and Rain [two Peoms]
Ole Bulky JeepsThrough late summer's heat These bulky shaped jeeps Ride by house and farm City and barn-Hungry for Spring-again, on tenterhooks to avoid The Slipping and sliding Of winter's ice and wind?[s]Their burdensome legs are dirty From heartbreaking dust and rain (Here and there, everywhere) Through all kinds of terrain Like heartrending clouds caught In the plant life of the woods? They never slow down a ting They have a duty, and give.It's part of how they live- In military-, bulky ole jeeps!.
I Shall Wait...
I Shall Wait..
Savage Nature: The Life of Ted Hughes
One of the most chief poets of the post-war period, Edward James Hughes (1930-1998), was drawn towards the primitive. He was captivated by the beauty of the actual world, commonly portraying its cruel and savage humor in his work as a evidence of his own individual affliction and magic beliefs - converted that advanced man had lost touch with the primal side of his nature.
The Mercantile of Copan [In English and Spanish]
English VersionThe Commercial 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 other half of Quetzal Macaw, and here is where the story begins.
Its What She Didnt Say
When I hear your voice exclusive my head it makes me think of you every lone day as I fight back tears of desolation and admiration if you're okayMy life is empty lacking you I wish time would take away the pain but the ache in my heart persists and my austere hopes seem in vainI appreciate how much I hurt you and now I know it's too late to tell you how sorry I am and anticipate you not to hateI don't deserve a back up accidental to show you how much I care when you desired me the most I know I futile to be thereNow your trust in me is gone evermore and I will never have the ability to say I exceedingly hope your dreams come true and happiness finds you every dayI would give more or less whatever thing in life if I could go back to that day and erase the whole lot I said and did to make your anguish go awayWhat hurts the most is this is what you didn't say and the dearth of these words haunt me each and every day..
Lima, City with the Stretched out Wings [In English and Spanish]
Lima, City with the Stretched out WingsIt's an ink-black night: no stars: a moon in sightJust dots of: red, green and white-white lightsAs the plane descends, descends, slides down On the long-drawn-out-spun-out lasting city of light Uneven as a crumbled cake, lit up like a Christmas tree-The disturbed city, with its stretched out wingsStretching from the mountains to the sea- Winding by means of the valley's, forests, and streams Stretches, stretches its naked wings-endlesslyAs,I'm descending, down, over and about the city (descending, descending, and sliding to the ground)The city with stretched out wings-and endless lights Down, behind, around, the ground, it's immune to me I'm just part of its evening, a beginning in its inky seaInvisible people: cats, dogs, birds, and rats-infiniteUncountable: dots; streams of lit dots, dot-lights; People: walking, talking, sleeping, consumption by the dots People: waiting, killing, robbing, praying, by the dotsFor tomorrow, tomorrow and a further tomorrowThey say-:you are ruthless, and I know this to be trueAnd they tell me you have thieves and murders-And this, I dare say-but shall-is also true, very true But show me a city to the awkward of eight-million-? I shake my fist and say: '?show me! But no one does'So alive, so brave, with bright and hungry hearts;I say, show me one that sings in poverty and smiles Prove me one that celebrates year-round of its heroes Show me painters that are as good-that sell on streets-As good as: Picasso, Dali, Rembrandt, and Yang YangAnd that welcomes the world with stretched out arms-Show me all this, or some of this, and I will say no moreWith this,I descend to its streets, its crowed winding streetsAs well as, to its neighborhoods with dust and grubby air, And hear the laughs of the children; the dogs on roofs Sights of the shoe-shiners: men and boys, in the parksAnd the abundant food carts; -- musicians, paper sellersAnd with its naked featherless wings, jacket all-My Lima, Peru with its famous Cathedral:Golden fair with gigantic crowns, andWithin its plaza-square, a water fountain-celebrated.Under its sins, with its creased aged men, lovely women,They all stand tall and bow to its Inca history, its glory- Its world that once ruled all, like the Roman Empire,Like the American Dream, they were the noble, the kingsAnd now, from hard work and toil, sweat and strive, all, all Grinding, grinding away, each and everyday, lover of the, King of Kings: Jesus Christ-this is the Lima I know today; a mighty ship that has before now sailed the seven seas, now resting!?Spanish VersionLima, La ciudad con las alas extendidas Translated by Rosa PeñalozaEsta es una noche oscura: no estrellas, ni luna a la vistaSolo puntos: rojo, verde y blanco-luces blancasMientras que el avión desciende, desciende, bajando A la larga-extendida-plana persistente ciudad de luces Plana como un panqueque, encendida como un árbol de navidad-La despierta ciudad, con sus alas extendidasExtendidas desde las montañas hacia el océano Zigzagueante a través de los valles, bosques y riachuelos Estirando, estirando sus alas desnudas-interminablesMientras,Voy descendiendo, abajo, por encima y alrededor de la ciudad (Descendiendo, descendiendo, y deslizándose a la tierra)La ciudad con las alas extendidas-y luces interminables Abajo, Abajo, detrás, alrededor, la tierra, es inmune a mí Sólo soy parte de esta noche, un bautizado en su oscuro océanoInvisible: gente, gatos, perros, pájaros, y ratas, infinidadIncontables: puntos, riachuelos de luz, puntos de luz; Gente: caminando, conversando, durmiendo, comiendo bajo los puntos de luz Gente: esperando, matando, robando, rezando bajo los puntos de luzPor mañana, mañana y otro mañanaEllos dicen--:Tu eres implacable, y yo se que esto es verdadY ellos me dicen tú tienes ladrones, y muertes-Y esto, me atrevo a decir, que esto también es cierto, muy ciertoPero muéstrame una ciudad de ocho millones contraria --? Sacudo mis puños y digo: "?muéstrame," pero nadie lo haceTan viva, tan valerosa, con corazones fuertes y hambrientos:Digo, muéstrame una que canta en pobreza, y sonríe Pruébame una como esa, que celebra alrededor del año a sus héroes Muéstrame pintores tan buenos-que venden en las calles-Tan buenos como: Picasso, Dali, Rembrant y Yang YangY que recibe al mundo con extendidos brazosMuéstrame todo esto, o algo de esto, y no diré masCon esto,Desciendo a sus calles, atiborrada, zigzagueantes callesAsí como su raro vecindario con polvo en el aire Y oigo la risa de los niños, los perros en los techos Vista de los lustrabotas, hombres y muchachos, en los parquesY los numerosos carros de comida, músicos y vendedores de periódicosY con su desnuda y desplumadas alas, cubriendo todo-Mi Lima, Perú, con su renombrada catedral:Amarilla dorada con su coronadas torres, yDentro de su plaza cuadrada, una celebrada piletaBajo su piel, con sus arrugados ancianos, tiernas mujeres,Todos ellos parados altos, y reverenciando a su historia inca, sugloria- Su mundo que una vez gobernó todo, como el Imperio RomanoComo el sueño de América, ellos fueron los nobles, los reyesY ahora de pesadez, y esfuerzo, sudor, lucha, todos, todos extenuados, fatigados, este y cada día, amantes del Rey de los Reyes: Jesucristo-esta es la Lima que conozco, hoy; un poderoso barco que ya navegó los siete mares, ahora descansando?Author/Poet Dennis Siluk, web site: http://dennissiluk.
"I heard what you said, Red. Yet, I have to disagree.
Key Largo - Frater Albertus
Key Largo:The fans turn indolently in front of the doorThey open wide screening mangroves galoreAn egret in the everglades stalks its preyHaltingly it walks along its wayOn a new brilliant and sunny dayA woman's floppy hat shades her beauty not so brittleThe silky-smooth 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 pleasingly sits downIn the small hotel lobby bar'A city north and very far.
Truth is stranger than fiction according to many colonize who have seen what happens about me and to them, on many occasions. Every so often I have had others assume me in the same way.
Three Poems: Specter of the Rocks; Lady from Lima & Bell Ringer of de Copan
Phantom of the Rocks[Huancayo, Peru]Night falls deepUpon the traveler!Low, over the AndesBy Huancayo-;They know a legend,Not of this earth,Where evil lurks(Over Palla-Huarcuan!..
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 character to do?It is not bacteriaAlthough it can eat away my soulIt is not a virusYet, it can keep me from atmosphere wholeI know what will do the trick,What will put me back on top,A great big bowl of Ice CreamWill exceedingly 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 being paid 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.
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