Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems]
Grandpa's House
[The ole Real House]
The house needed painting
Sun-blistered and flaking
Grandpa started to have us
Boys-Mike and I- start
Doing some scraping-
While he, pealed off the ole
Paint, and started painting?
Just a humble wooden house
With several rooms, but
Strong enough to keep the
Winds and winter snows out,
How he loved that ole house!...
An' his well-kept yard, which
Contained lilac bushes, and
Big shade trees; where birds
And squirrels lived-season
To season, scattered on?
Branches-they looked like
Play things (back in the 50s)
#807 8/18/05
Note by the author: "We all grew up together I suppose you might say, my brother and I, mom and grandpa, a few aunts in the beginning, all living in an extended family environment; that is how it felt anyhow. Although the house belonged to my grandfather, we all lived together; now it all seems so long ago, and what pops out of my mind is: I never did take a liking to painting houses after painting his a few times."
From Iraq with Love
American's most often are
Certain of what they want
From the world-
In a large measure,
In charge:
Gold, machinery,
Symbols
It's what it's all
About?
Shaving
Showering
Outfitting
Medications
Cosmetics
It's what it's all
About?
Breakfast
Banquettes
TV's and couches
Adolescents
Engagement rings-
Thanksgiving's:
Blessings, gratitude
(no secrets here)
It's what it's allAbout?
Family
Snow and rain
North by a highway
Dirt and mud
Children
Classmates
Cookies
Just beautiful
Things-freedom
To say and be
That's the way it was meant
To be:
An' then,
Along came a bullet:
No mercy
Your dead!...
Nothing more said.
#806 8/16/05
Note by the author: "I am not for or against the war in Iraq, for the most part; although I do believe America did do a great service for the world, and the Iraqi people by bringing down Saddam, a world demonic beast, from his throne, and perhaps it was worth the price, then and now; we are all counting the price right this minute, are we not [?] But is it worth it to continue? A pale question at best, now facing everyone in the country. There are wiser men than I up in Washington D.C., figuring these things out, and surely we do not know everything of what is in the background. But being in a war, I do know this: we won the war, it should be over, and we are not responsible to rebuild their whole country at the cost of taxing the American citizen to death: financially, resources, and our youth wise. I do pray that President Bush will bring our boys home. Enough is enough."
See Dennis Siluk's new book of poems "Spell of the Andes," at any book dealer: http://www.amazon.com or http://www.bn.com
MORE RESOURCES:
 New York Times | In a Poetry Event's Title, Fuel for Debate on a Slur New York Times Sandra María Estevez is participating in El Museo's poetry series, although she dislikes its title. Now that word forms the title of a poetry series — “Spic ... |
 guardian.co.uk | Politics needs poetry – so hooray for Herman Van Rompuy guardian.co.uk First let me say this: on balance, I would far rather that people in politics were writing poetry than not. Where are the poets in the House of Commons? ... Profile: Herman Van Rompuy: eu's new president ROMPUY ROMPS IT Herman Van Rompuy's Greatest Hits |
 Irish Times | Brown professor wins national poetry award Providence Journal AP / Tina Fineberg The night before he won the National Book Award for poetry for his experimental work, “Transcendental Studies: A Trilogy,” ... Providence Poet Wins National Book Award Colum mccann wins major US fiction prize in the footsteps of american giants |
 Spicezee | GCU resonates with Faiz's poetry Daily Times Prof Dr Nabeela Kayani of the English Department presented a paper, describing Faiz as a pillar of Urdu poetry. Faiz rejected fascism, she said, ... Faiz's poetry - a beacon of light for oppressed GCU pays tribute to Faiz “Faiz was a revolution who is evergreen” |
Pick-Up Lines In Rome: Sexual Harassment Or Poetry? Huffington Post (blog) It was a beautiful summer day and that sentence was a joyful verse of poetry. I wasn't at all offended by it: it felt more like a serenade rather than a ... |
Poem of the day – Death of a little girl StarNewsOnline.com A PLACE FOR YOU TO SHARE YOUR POETRY, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE. Welcome to our online community of poets! I am an aspiring poet myself and would love for us to ... |
Poetry with a passion Honolulu Advertiser This was the venue for October's First Thursday Slam Poetry event. Over 25 poets read their work. Poems ranged from graphic to heart-wrenching to beat ... |
Medford students to read poetry, show art during Navy concert Dec. 4 Medford Transcript Anne Thompson, professor emeritus at Bates College, conducted two poetry workshops on Nov. 11 at the chamber office. About 30 students from grades 3 to 6 ... |
Cowboy poetry gathering at Whitman center Grand Junction Sentinel Two days of poetry, music and stories will fill the Whitman Education Center for the Grand Junction Cowboy Poetry Gathering. The Museum of Western Colorado ... Cowboy poets gather for weekend performances |
bad poetry a hit CU Columbia Spectator The Philolexian Society kicked off the 24th Alfred Joyce Kilmer Bad Poetry contest tonight to celebrate the shameful pleasure in good bad poetry. ... Bright life in US inspires Amherst poet In Litchfield, Poets Are Gathering |
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Motiff
Have you ever experienced infatuation with someone you know is not a good match for you? Or how about an interesting relationship that roots itself deep in your memory..
Rhymes of an Ordnance Man [Vietnam War: 1971]
Rhymes of an Ordnance Man[Vietnam War: 1971]An eleven part poemBy Dennis L. SilukI had went to Vietnam at the age of 23 [1971], and it was most interesting, there were 205,000 troops there when I arrived.
Three Poems: Phantom 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!..
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.
Five Poems from Home [And a view on the planet 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 ageof seventy-three-.The tiny woman with a big mouth, who got caught in the rain and couldn't get out:continued to play the game,all the same, like drops of rainupon a pane.
Two Poems: Black Poncho, and Spirits of de Copan [in English and Spanish]
English Version12) Black Poncho(of Saint Cosme Hill, by Lima, Peru)Lost in the grottos of Peru-By the hills of HuancayoBlack Poncho was given A treasure of gold?;By none other than, Demonic goblins!?in the form of scorching fruit;Hence, Black Poncho fooled The goblins of oldBy using his poncho to pullThe sizzling golden fruitThrough the Andes to Lima, Peru!?Henceforward, he was swindledBy a jeweler of dire repute.Thus, his life changed (as so often they do);And now he lives with:Thirty-five dogs, on San Cosme Hill.
Walt Whitman, Romance With a Stranger
The concept of brief encounters, even romantic encounters, with a stranger recurs often in the verses of Walt Whitman.Take, for example, these lines from one of the inscriptions that Whitman wrote to his 1860 edition of Leaves of Grass.
Testimony to the Night [In English and Spanish]
In the quiet of the arctic night-In its deep northern skies,Dim are the lights, in its coldEvening frost?!Even the stars of the arcticSeem silently stone frozen!Here, here is where you findPeace and the beast within-!Remote, no ears or wordsTo clutter the mindTo entrench the throat;Here, here is where you die?(for a moment).Here, the sky has eternal eyesEyes with cosmic tidesTides that never rest: they warWith the Universe-Likened to a dark deep abyss;Endless and never resting?Here my eyes seek and searchIn countless hours, ebbing andSweeping the heavens aboveNumbing, changeless-Are the cosmos, the heavens?Here resides a strange peace?Here, resides a strange peaceWith an army of stars to defeatShinning, silently in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark;Time has no relevance here,Here, resides a strange, peace?Cold and oddly numb are my feet,As I look up, upon the many bridgesOne star bridging the next-as if,If Kings and Queens wereGuarding them-the Hosts-O-Yes! A strange, strange peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to theeFlaming, blazing firmaments-ye,Ye, remind me not, of the wars I left,Of the foes, divine immortals?The enemies that never restAh! Praise, praise be to thee, to theeI hear music, harmony from afar (there)There are storms hidden in a storehouse,For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust;There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
Commuting Hell!
It's dark, it's cold, its' just six thirty,thoughts of sleep still dull my brain,As I huddle down, inside my coat,a commuter clone, just waiting for a train.Insidious rain, just drizzling down,through weak light of creeping dawn,Paper sandwich bags and old coffee cups,blowing past, look so forlorn.
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a hearth afire.I never met a man, who could smile so easy, real honest.
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 MoonOer the Copan skyan arch of shadows weave their webswith low-lights, as the moon rises.
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.
Let Your Feelings Be Your Guide
The light of all eternity shines with me now / My feelings light up my life / How I find my way is determined by them / They illumine my path and show me who I amWhen I was young, I felt so many things / Then came the day when I could not stand the pain / My world was chaos then, filled with sorrow and grief / So I closed up to protect that fragile Self withinYears would go by before I could open again / I was forced to by circumstances beyond my control / Life dealt me blows which I later recognized as my own / To awaken me to that sorrow deep within my SoulI worked hard to find my way back to the Light / To that place within where I could feel once again / There my Heart shone forth with a brave face / And shed light on all that I had concealedNow I see how I closed that tender-hearted Self / How I froze in the face of my destiny / Troubles swirled around as a constant source of grief / And I fell to sleep out of fearI am awakening now to the deep void within / Where I've stored all those troubles and pain / I fight my way back to that center once again / So I can come forth completely and be trueMy life moves forward as of this day / When I committed to finding my true Self / I've engaged all manner of demons on this journey / To return to that Source deep insideI wish for life to fill me now and bring all it can / I am thirsty for experience and for growth / I want lavish riches from my Soul to fill me / So that I can truly enjoy all that I beholdThis work is sometimes difficult as I have learned / But no more than any task requiring Love / This journey enriches me with its purpose / And fills me with Life and SoulThis is my gift to myself, my own holy Soul / To have, to hold and to behold / This Heart that bled is now healing its wounds / And can prosper again from what Life bringsLet there never be a return to where hurts cramp me up / And fill me with bitterness and pain / I am awake now, yes, and can move ahead / To appreciate all that Life has assignedOh glory to you, my Sweet Soul, for coming this day / I thank you from the bottom of my Heart / We two can sing together the praises of Love / That take us forward on this journey through timeNever let it be said that one so deserving / Could not find his or her way Home / All whom will follow shall see this Light in turn / And know that their journey can be wonI take you with me now, my Sweet Soul / For you are here in my hands / Where I can behold you / And together, we can be so bold"Move on," you say to me. "Move on, my love / The Light wishes for us to do so" / And my Heart sings with the possibilities / So that "Yes" is the answer I can render with easeMy Heart is filled with Love and joy in this moment / Knowing that I am with you, my Soul / My feelings tell me you are there and always were / Till that sleep came over me earlier onBy awakening to your touch do I know You / And find my own truth there in your eyes / You show me through Love what my purpose can be / I am inspired by this attentive designI am pleased we are here together, in this life / I am pleased that our love is so strong / For now I can reach you, my Sweet Soul Sublime / When you call to me from deep within my HeartI have your answer Dear, and know this to be true / That you and I are forever to be born / In this life or another, we join with each other / And We Soar .
Ode To Quetzalcoatal [Now in Spanish and English]
Ode to QuetzalcatlQuetzalcatl the GreatNo one knew his true name, so theyCalled him Quetzalcatl-feather SerpentHe and his crew of nineteen: facesStrange faces, images of a prince, a lord:King of the Yucatan in the year 986 ADHe was a tall man; long cloths, sandals;White as day, with a long beard, black hair.Some say red: some don't say?But they called him priest, Lord, kingAmongst many things: god!.
The Time Has Come and Buzzing
Most of my poems are written late at night, often, as this one was, after I have turned out the lights to go to sleep. It seems that is the time when I am most creative.
Beautiful Dreamer, Stephen Foster, Americas First Folk Song Writer
"Beautiful Dreamer" was written by Stephen Foster just before his death in 1864 at age 37. The song became one of his most famous and most popular.
Shadows of the Andes; Ollantayambo; and Cesar Vallejo [Poems in English and Spanish]
1) Shadows 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 arrived 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 through the Andes.
Joined
JOINEDHeart beat of manpounding - yet unheardjoined becomes thebeat of a nation.Words of man written - yetunreadjoinedbecomes a proclamation.
Preserving Dignity
No one should have to beg or crawl before humanity. No one should have to scheme to procure philanthropy.
