Poetry in a row - poetry
JOINEDHeart beat of man pounding - yet unheard joined becomes the beat of a nation.Words of man written - yet unread joined becomes a proclamation.
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
English Version1) Grendel's DivorceYou must know that I do not hateAnd that I hate you, Because all dead has twoSides; A sound is one arm of the quiet, Ice has its warm half.I hate you in order to start hating you To begin life again And never to stop hating you: That is why I do not hate you yet.
Live For Today...
Isn't that what they say?But what does that mean?There's no classification that mayanswer that question..
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
Ode to: The Ice Maiden of Ampatos Conference [now in: English and Spanish]
Dedícate to Antonio Castillo. L.
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 at some stage in this ongoing trip in Peru, while in Lima, while the poem concerning: Chan Chan was oriinally ongoing last year,while at the antiquated site in Northern Peru, it was just buffed 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 a small amount dim;Yet the Gorriones keep on swimming Gracefully, swimming, in the wind-Under the Lima sky? .
Contract of Death [Now: in SPANISH and English]
Contract of DeathI heard today, the monk say: "Daniel has warned us long ago, Of the trials and harms we Are now facing, with our foes?"He says the 'Antichrist' was now In Europe crying: 'peace,' and the 'Axis of Evil,' had previously placed Hidden Atomic Russian weaponsUnder our feet, here in the good Ole heart of the United States; 'Palestine's cry for peace,' he adds, Is a deceptive Gun for Revelation 3:10;America. A 'Contract for Death,' Is what he called it.
A Ship to Remember
You cannot make a big name love you. All you can do is be a celebrity who can be loved.
In Poetry: Consequence of Words [And ...Rocket-belt]
In Poetry: Denotation of WordsWhen I write poetry, I check out the consequence of words for too often they sound the same, but once written, and if spelled wrong, in consequence, give a absolute another connotation of what I had intended; this I call a instant of destruction control. If my rhyme is flat, and my inflection is off, so what, I can survive, as long as the denotation of my words are not; and are as I meant them to be.
Storm Rising along the Lima Coast
Storm Rising along the Lima Coast [Summer of 2002]?wind was blowing crossly It never left for a flash Bursts of fury I found it arduous to keep My feet placed, thus, I clung to my knees For one delightful flash I could not now disguise it From in my opinion Some crafty ambiance Manifested itself Then the flow drew Sharply away from me With her mystery-Back out into the open sea Yet-, still it roared back at me! It was an articulated announce It made my head swim I noticed it kept-step With my exultation!?#761 7/14/2005Notes: There are mysteries to the sea, at times it seems as to have its own mind, its own character; as if description was plugged into all that exist. Earth itself being an article with its own lively soul.
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an antediluvian civilization the background of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the conversation drums your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your perpetual minstrels have i not heard of your alternation hips! i have heard a sufficient amount and have come to watch wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribes the timid tribes of your sickly tongues the different tongues of your moral menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the nurse earth your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa your kings of the antiquated dynasty the antediluvian house of rusted spear and shield africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awake pelting on men as well, the gods gathering itself drop by drop.
You Lost Your Last Back and Me
I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who will be your Dad - But if you bluff about a card's face value for too many years you not recall you had - No Aces or King of Hearts in your first deck - But fairly a worthless Joker-So Wild and Mad..
Biography of Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Bronte (1816 -1855) Author and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev.
Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists that we assay the deceiving clarity of our measures and the goals that motivate us. How does one in point of fact get from "A" to "B"-and is there ever certainly a "B"? What color is the white space concerning "A" and "B"? Upon more rapidly inspection, appear realities disclose themselves to be leaky and fragile, covered with textures and grains that lead the eye on not to be trusted pathways.
Two Poems: Boyhood, and Old Age [with a note on style]
BoyhoodOh me! Thy glorious days have flown! I mealy noticed, now they're gone, How at once conceded the flowers! Time does not stop youth's bells; It was like I was in a spell, And my face now shows the hours!Ah yes! My childish past days, Still lively in my blond age, When all was quick and new Now wrapped in films and books, And contacts and ancestors were all I knew And love was shown by affable looks!#741 6/26/05Old AgeThey stop by to see me now To find what's old and new, They peer into my-everything, And assess my views; They tell me what I be supposed to like, And that I must be grieved-These are my fragile associates That takes the strongest liberties?I mean to take the timer off; And put the phone exterior the door; In vain I speak to tell them why -I shan't live here anymore!#742 6/26/05A note on Style: some ancestors ask, "What style of poetry to you like the best?" I can never key that question; it is open-ended to me. If I feel like flouting free from tradition as in the poem of: "Old Age," so be it; and if I feel accepted verse, a stricter conventional archetype ought to be used, as in "Boyhood," and can add deeply to the poem, so it is.
Stone Beds [A Poem and an Advance]
Stone Beds [Pompeii's surge]Advance: after the great explosion of Pompeii's close volcano, Vesuvius, some two-thousand years ago in the glory days of the Roman Empire, what was left of the city were by and large ashes of stone from an unleashing furnace; it is hard to conceive of what the colonize went because of (none, not one character survived). I can only guess from the looks of the city today, and in its early excavations, its citizens were baked alive or asleep, like pottery.
Tale of the Brick Maker, of San Jeronimo, Peru [In English and Spanish]
Tale of the Brick Maker, Of San Jerónimo, Peru [A Cup of Sorrow]-1In the Andean mountains, surrounded by theMantaro Valley constituency of Peru, Isolated, secluded, tranquil, is the littlevillage of San Jerónimo. Near the village, here lay the bountiful valleywith bent-grass, and huge Mountains stretching northbound,And course towards the ocean's coast.
Rules for Copy Poetry
You've been inscription poetry since that first assignment in your high discipline journalism class. You know the rules about copy poetry, right? Are there rules? Well, if you go to regularly the poetry forums diagonally the Internet as much as I do, you'd find that there are a lot of amateur poets who inflexibly assert that there are no rules for journalism poetry and if a big shot even suggests appraisal poetry or books on poetry, many of the amateur poets will throw up a distrustful front.
A Dose of Laughter
I'm not well. Can't you tell? Kinda low, so, give me a dose of laughter.
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