Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
English Version
1) Grendel's Divorce
You must know that I do not hate
And that I hate you,
Because everything dead has two
Sides;
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.
I hate you, and I do not hate you,
As if I carried
Locks in my pocket: to a past of
A feeble, crumbling joy-
My hate has two lives, in order to
Hate you,
That is why I hate you, when I do
Do not hate you,
And also why I hate you when
I do?!.
#700 6/1/05
2) Grendel's Waiting
Do not go far off, for more than a
Moment; because-because-
It's difficult to say this: a moment is not,
Not long, and Grendel will be waiting
For you, as in an empty cave,
Nothing is safe.
Don't be alone, even for an hour,
Because-because-Grendel's
Friends, full of anguish will run,
Run after you, choking the life
Out of your heart?
?oh, hide your silhouette, yes
Never dissolve it, just hide it,
Hide it, eyelids and all into an
Empty space; fine my
Friend,
Because-because-in that moment
You wander off, you will have gone
So far, you will not come back; and
And love will remain here dying?
#701 6/2005
3) Counting Days
[Prose poetry]
Each day I wake-up I
Thank God for another-; for
today is only today. It has its
own history you might say,
which consumes all of the pastfor me.
When I look back, it seems
the days, no longer days (rather
history now) come and gone,
had wings on.
I do not want to swallow-up
tomorrow, it will come and pass,
and be consumed like a burning
patch of autumn leaves.
#703 6/2005
4) Papa Augusto's Hipódromo
[At the Racetrack in Lima, Peru-5/2005]
While I sit here, in the open,
drifting in myself,
I must have stared a long time
down the racetrack, beyond the
horses,
someone yells
"Trifecta!" everyone's in my space
I won!!
#707 6/1/05
Spanish Version
1) El Divorcio de Grendel
Usted debe saberlo que yo no odio
Y lo que yo odio,
porque todo lo muerto tiene dos
Lados;
Un sonido es un brazo de la calma,
El hielo tiene su mitad caliente.
Lo odio con el fin de comenzar a odiarle
para Comenzar la vida otra vez
Y nunca parar odiándolo:
Es por eso que no le odio aún.
Le odio, y no le odio,
Como si yo llevé
Cerraduras en mi bolsillo: a un pasado de
Una débil, desmenuzada alegría-
Mi odio tiene dos vidas, con el fin
de odiarlo
Es por eso que le odio, cuando lo hago
No lo odio,
Y también por qué lo odio cuando
¡Hago ?!.
*700 6/1/05
2) La Espera de Grendel
No vaya muy lejos, por más que un
Momento; " porque porque "
Es difícil de decir esto: .: un momento no es,
tan largo, y Grendel estará esperando
Para usted, como en una cueva vacía,
Nada es seguro.
No esté solo, aún por una hora,
por que, por que, los amigos
de Grendel, llenos de angustia correrán,
corriendo después que tu, ahogando la vida
fuera de tu corazón ?
?oh, oculte su silueta, sí
Nunca disuélvalo, solamente ocúltelo,
Oculte ello, párpados y todo en un
Espacio vacío; bien mi
Amigo,
" Porque porque en " ese momento
Usted vaga , usted se habrá ido
tan lejos, usted no volverá; y
¿Y el amor permanecerá aqui muriendo?
*701 6/2005
3) Conteo de Días
[ Poesía de prosa]
Cada día despèrtando yo
Agradeciendo a Dios por otro-; por
hoy es sólo hoy. Esto tiene su
propia historia usted podría decir,
que consume todo el pasado
para mí.
Cuando miro hacia atrás, parece
los días,dias largos (más bien
la historia ahora) vienen y van,
tenían alas sobre.
No quiero tragarlo
mañana, esto vendrá y pasará,
y ser consumido como una combustión
pedazo de hojas de otoño.
*703 6/2005
4) El hipódromo de Papá Augusto
[ En el Hipódromo en Lima, Perú-5/2005]
Mientras me siento aquí, en el abierto,
llegando a la deriva yo mismo,
Debo haber mirado fijamente mucho tiempo
abajo el hipódromo, más allá de los
caballos,
alguien grita
¡" Trifecta! " todo el mundo en mi espacio
¡¡Gané!!
In these poems we see not only human nature at work [in Grendel], but the nature of the invisible world perhaps, trying to get into Mr. Siluk's poems. A joyful win at the racetracks, and counting days, can be a bore. All made to order for a nice afternoon in reading. Rosa Penaloza
MORE RESOURCES:
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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, within theMantaro Valley region of Peru, Isolated, secluded, tranquil, is the littlevillage of San Jerónimo.Near the village, here lay the fertile valleywith bent-grass, and hugeMountains stretching northbound,And heading towards the ocean's coast.
Stone Beds [A Poem and an Advance]
Stone Beds[Pompeii's surge]Advance: after the great eruption of Pompeii's nearby volcano, Vesuvius, some two-thousand years ago in the heyday of the Roman Empire, what was left of the city were mostly ashes of stone from an unleashing furnace; it is hard to imagine what the people went through (none, not one person survived). I can only guess from the looks of the city today, and in its early excavations, its people were baked alive or asleep, like pottery.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Discussion of How Do I Love Thee?
"How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was written in 1845 while she was being courted by the English poet, Robert Browning. The poem is also titled Sonnet XLIII from Sonnets From the Portuguese.
Superman
So many looked to you for inspiration,Unlikely hero for the wheelchair nation.Proudly you fought and proudly you believed,Everyone loved you Christopher Reeve.
Satirical Poetry About Tony Blair
All Hail.Is your hospital full of aliens, despite new cleaning firms,Antenna waving buggies, And creepy crawly germs,Then dont waste another second, now were into election spin,Just complain, over and again, and up pops smiley smiley grin.
The Game of Life
When your life becomes unbearable And the light of promise ceases to glow, When all your dreams and aspirationsLie dormant on ambition's death row.When you feel that all is hopeless, Life troubles just seem to abound.
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 quickly passed 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 youthful past days,Still lively in my golden age,When all was quick and newNow wrapped in pictures and books,And friends and family were all I knewAnd love was shown by friendly looks!#741 6/26/05Old AgeThey stop by to see me nowTo find what's old and new,They peer into my-everything, And criticize my views;They tell me what I should like,And that I should be grieved-These are my fragile friends That takes the strongest liberties?I mean to take the buzzer off;And put the phone outside the door;In vain I speak to tell them why-I shan't live here anymore!#742 6/26/05A note on Style: some people ask, "What style of poetry to you like the best?" I can never answer that question; it is open-ended to me. If I feel like breaking free from tradition as in the poem of: "Old Age," so be it; and if I feel traditional verse, a stricter formal pattern should be used, as in "Boyhood," and can contribute richly to the poem, so it is.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my headAnd found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him,I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem fromhim-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
Find the Magic
FIND the MAGICFind the MagicAs you release old bondage Come out of hidingAnd see the starsFind the MagicAs you expose the painLet the tears flowAnd find beauty in your bodyFind the MagicAs you scream from the beatingRun from the threatsAnd feel the warmth of a hugFind the MagicAs the little girl is silencedTold she is too smart for her own goodAnd she finds her place of honor as she speaks her mindFind the MagicAs the ghosts creep into dreamHaunt your daily lifeAnd you meet them at the crossroads and move onFind the MagicAs you drift out of your body, avoiding the angerObserve the separationAnd you join the body temple once again to rejoice in this unique wonderFind the MagicAs you listen to the conflicts andWatch in horrorAnd emerge from the water whole and beautiful in a rainbow of colorsFind the Magic, For you are whole once again© 2004 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is an researcher, teacher and author. Contact her through her web site http://www.
In the Mountans of Haiti [A Poem: in English and Spanish]
In the Mountains of Haiti(In the City)-July is a hot month-sweating Poverty out on every street(In Port de Prince); mixingMemory with desire causes stirring.Not much rain in Haiti (in 1986);Summer kept us busy, buildingA medical clinic, in the mountains?.
New Poetic Work By Ethiopian Immigrant Promotes Respect, Courage And Cultural Sensitivity
McLean, VA - "The Healing Conscious" tells the story of an Ethiopian immigrant boy on his fascinating journey to America and adulthood. Author Kifle Bantayehu, a 23 year-old second-generation Ethiopian immigrant, recounts this poignant tale in poetic format.
Black Blood, in Jeremiahs Vines - A Poem and an Article
Black Blood, in Jeremiah's Vines[A Dream Poem]And I heard the crackling of wood, and I noticed the Lord God had made men of wood, and fire came from his mouth.Then the wind poured its grief upon us-over our sins; and I heard the words for the seventh time, "Go to the mountains!"Foolish people of this land pray and understand-for He cometh! Thereof, toss yourself to thy knees, for the roar of rebellious men will bleed: black blood, through the vines of Jeremiah.
Three Poems (While in Transition/English and Spanish)
Here are three more poems by the author, Dennis Siluk, while traveling througout Central and South America.Three Poems While in Transition (In Spanish and English)Poem OneEnglish VersionOrange Timid MoonO´er the Copan skyan arch of shadows weave their webswith low-lights, as the moon rises.
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's follow the poet to hisHell and heaven! Count hisGhosts and dilemma's?Reach out to touch hisStretched-out skies; let's followThe poet to see where he lays.Let's follow the poet to his end;To see if he can?whateverHe wants to do, do over again?.
The Crusader: A Search for the Virtue Inside (an excerpt of an Epic Poem)
On through the darkness she searches the bonesSeeking the hand of her love;Deep in the stillness, the maid searches on,Petitioning help from above.Onward she gropes through the flesh and the bloodOf the warriors disfigured and maimed;She carries no hope for the life of her love -For naught but his body she came.
Lifes Too Short
Time goes by to quicklyto hold your feelings insideEspecially when their so strongeven if they don't abide..
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [a Poem]
Daybreak at Pikes Creek[Summer of 2005]Daybreak by Lake SuperiorRising out of the woods like:A swamp mistI'm waiting for breakfast(at the B&B)I pace the groundsThe scent of green shrubbery:Trees, flora, flowers-rain Intoxicates me-Branches like big brown armsDescend?The embankment, to the rightBlue eyed, like mine-reflect From the creek beneath me(my wife says 'be careful'she went to get the camera)The greens and blues touchMy face and blue jeans-Reflections mirrored like Musical notes of a symphony(I'll see them later in pictures)For now, it's daybreakIn Minnesota.#813 8/26/2005Note: the author, Dennis Siluk, took his wife Rosa [me: on my birthday] to Lake Superior, this summer, and I adored the biggest lake in the world.
Ocean Heal Me
Ocean Heal MeOcean heal my woundsLet your waves curl and foam on my bodyWash away blood, heal scarsOcean renew me with your powerAs unceasingly you rollGiving strength that's been drainedOcean keep me warmWrap me in your brineCaress me with your tidesOcean disperse my tearsAs they flow in youI cleanse my soulOcean let me grow in your depthsColor me vibrant blue, coral, greenClear = revitalizedOcean your spray anoints meCool and refreshedMy spiritual renewalOcean be my friendHold me flowing in your currentsEver moving, ever changingOcean, heal me.© 1983 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is a researcher, author and teacher.
Writing Innovative Poetry
Writing innovative poetry, the kind of poetry that reputable literary journals publish, entails knowing exactly what each word of a poem does to the reader. A good poem should be evocative, skillful, and cohesive, but before attempting to hone these attributes, a potential poet should be knowledgeable of the various forms and attributes of contemporary poetry.
Three Sweet Poems, and Two Not So Sweet [now in: SPANISH and English]
1) End PoemWherever you are today-Is where you were meant to be;It's where God, dotted the'i' and the 't'?!2) God's AngelsGod asked his angels:"Why do you look so sad?"Responded one angel:"Sir, we can't find the shade."3) An Empty SpaceOut of wisdom one will wait,travel far for love; the thirstwill not kill them.
