Poetry in sequence - poetry
No one be supposed to have to beg or crawl ahead of humanity. No one be supposed to have to design to buy philanthropy.
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 continuously you roll Giving dilution that's been drainedOcean keep me warm Wrap me in your brine Caress me with your tidesOcean diffuse my tears As they flow in you I purify my soulOcean let me grow in your depths Color me alive 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.
House of the Gnome [Part Two of Three/with notes]
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]Here is where, where the air is stillAnd the mountains darkness disappear! Here is where, unidentified spirits dwellWhere harp and recall expire?Where the rainbow-leaps, from itsStoreroom-keep, and cries; And the sands along the heap coastEcho then die?as in sleep?;And where delight turns into ghouls!..
Famous Poets Quotations - Top 30 Poetry Quotations by Eminent Poets
"For this aim poetry is amazing more philosophical and more commendable of acute awareness than history."-- Aristotle"Every American poet feels that the whole dependability for contemporary poetry has fallen upon his shoulders, that he is a literary nobility of one.
Lamenting Poetic Moods [six Poems]
Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, deep impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the accepted 8-syllable verse (ballad metre).
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
Never Ever More
Once upon a midnight dreary, coffee cold and eyesight bleary, all night sat there copy COBOL, coding allot crosswise the bed sheets, changing grammar for the mainframe, having checkered 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 naught more.
Feelings, O How Glorious!
Sometimes we feel hard-pressed, Our backs aligned with the wall; Sometimes we feel lightheaded, As if we are going to fall.Sometimes we feel fierce anger At those who abuse guns; Sometimes we feel ashamed Of how we treat God's barely ones.
A Ship to Remember
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 approved 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 fair-haired age, When all was quick and new Now wrapped in films and books, And acquaintances and children 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 appraise my views; They tell me what I ought to like, And that I be supposed to be grieved-These are my fragile contacts 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 colonize ask, "What style of poetry to you like the best?" I can never counter that question; it is open-ended to me. If I feel like contravention free from tradition as in the poem of: "Old Age," so be it; and if I feel customary verse, a stricter ceremonial arrangement ought to be used, as in "Boyhood," and can be part of the cause abundantly to the poem, so it is.
A Hundred and Fifty Dead [Korean War--l952]
There I sat, ninety-five grade weatherOutside; the bookstore café, was cool.An Old Timer stood by me, explaining:"There were two-hundred of us on the Island,Near North Korea, back in '52-We guarded 16,000-prisners?"All of a sudden, all hell broke looseThree-hundred North Koreans cameOver the bob-wired fence, in pursuit"It all happened in a be important of secondsThe machineguns killed 150-of themThat's all I saw in the war of '52.
Five Poems from Home [And a view on the earth vs. the poet]
Five Poems from Home1) 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 trapped in the rain and couldn't get out: continued to play the game, all the same, like drops of rain upon a pane.
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a grate afire.I never met a man, who could smile so easy, real honest.
Tale of the: Old Huntsman and the Blond Hare [In SPANISH and English now]
There once lived an old man and his goodwife On the edge of the thick of the woods; They lived in an old run-down shack For forty-years and some. The old man hunted for his living, And his wife sewed on her lap.
Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems]
Grandpa's House [The ole Real House]The house desirable painting Sun-blistered and flaking Grandpa happening to have us Boys-Mike and I- start Doing some scraping-While he, pealed off the ole Paint, and ongoing painting?Just a humble impassive house With a number of rooms, but Strong an adequate amount of to keep the Winds and iciness snows out, How he loved that ole house!..
Live For Today...
Isn't that what they say?But what does that mean?There's no clarity that mayanswer that question..
An Old Wood Pile [a poem with notes]
Old skin, once held tight Against her skeleton- Rose no more, just draped Loosely over unpadded flesh; Un-tightened muscles, and tissue, Lost its courage, no-fortitude-, Gone are the days and years That stood alongside the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmark Hidden under flesh and blood Guts and moral fiber, backbone? Collapsed from drudgery Time, time: cascading inside-. Bones now departure impressions Accepting fate Like discolored silver!.
Why I enjoy Writing?
During interviews and broad-spectrum conversations with the public,one of the most awkward 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 comeback to three items.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I accept them, admiration you, honor what you tell me and even despite the fact that I know where you're advent from, I just sought to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
THe Monster Mash, A Cemetery SMASH (short story I wrote when I was 11)
The Monster Mash The Burial ground SmashHave you heard of the Monster Mash? I assume you know the story of how it came to be, right? Well, I'm here to tell the TRUE story to you.It sarted out late one night, when all monsters where out of human sight.
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