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Black Blood, in Jeremiahs Vines - A Poem and an Article
Black Blood, in Jeremiah's Vines
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.
Note: 5/10/05, 11:28 AM #639
Writer Visited US
Dennis Siluk, renowned writer from the USA, was recently in the Mantaro Valley area and visited the Peruvian University "Los Andes" Language Center where there was pandemonium during his meeting with students and staff of the Language Center.
In a short dialog with the students he highlighted the ancient and beautiful Peruvian culture and congratulated the students for being involved in learning the English language; a language which predominates in the world and does not have frontiers, in communication.
He ended up his visit donating books to the Coordinator, Licensed Rigoberto Ricaldi Hurlado.
This is Mr. Siluk's most recent article and poem [Poet/Author, Dennis Siluk: http://dennissiluk.trippod.com].He is a world traveler, and likes the mysteries of [in] life.He believes in the ghostly world, as well as the physical one;the Maya calender and its astronomy and mysteries, as well as loving the Inca legends, and the land of Peru. He also believes in the birth of a new world coming. Rosa Penaloza
Poet/Author, Dennis Siluk: http://dennissiluk.trippod.com
Azra, Azra, Wake up Azra. Wake up Azra, It is time to go.
"I heard what you said, Red. Yet, I have to disagree.
Storm Rising along the Lima Coast
Storm Rising along the Lima Coast [Summer of 2002]?wind was blowing furiously It never left for a moment Bursts of fury I found it difficult to keep My feet placed, thus, I clung to my knees For one blissful moment I could not now disguise it From myself Some subtle feeling Manifested itself Then the current drew Sharply away from me With her mystery-Back out into the open sea Yet-, still it roared back at me! It was an expressed release 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 nature was plugged into all that exist. Earth itself being an entity with its own lively soul.
Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain
I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one deeply loved. We come to accept the death and adjust our lives - rather begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive.
Review Of Stephen B. Wileys First Book Of Poetry: HERO ISLAND
Poet Stephen B. Wiley's first book of poetry, Hero Island, reflects tender snapshots and reminiscent overviews of various stages of his life as a youngster working on a farm in New Jersey, summer vacations spent with his family in Northern Vermont, and his positive stance on life.
Two Poems on the Traditions of Peru [in English and Spanish]
Atahualpa's Game [Peruvian]Sometimes, it's not wise To share your wisdom ---as did, Atahualpa (The Inca King) in the Game of chess; thereafter, He was condemned to death.6/6/05 #713Note: Atahualpa, was the most famous of the Inca Kings, in the 16th century of Peru, I do relieve, and was held for ransom by the Spaniards.
Write Your Way to Fame
Have you ever thought about how nice it would be to see your poem discussed in the New York Times? Think you have what it takes to become a famous poet? Well the unfortunate truth is that no one has what it takes to be a famous poet. Here's a little exercise: Name the most famous contemporary poet you can think of.
A Poem - By Lorraine KemberIt was a day like any other and mother, father, sister, brother, were carrying out the customs of their land. When suddenly without warning, Mother Nature came calling, shook the earth and stole the ocean from the sand.
THe Monster Mash, A Graveyard SMASH (short story I wrote when I was 11)
The Monster Mash The Graveyard SmashHave you heard of the Monster Mash? I suppose 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.
Hindu Poet - Kamalakanta
Kamalakanta was born in Burdwan India in the late 18th Century. From an early age he expressed an interest in spirituality and later in life Kamalakanta received initiation into Tantric Yoga from a Tantric yogi named Kenaram Bhattacharya.
The Butcher of Lima and Footprints to Mantaro Valley (Two Poems)
Footprints to Mantaro Valley (Peru; in English and Spanish)In what retreat art hid?-Where falling mountains groan In shadow and amongThe rapids of the Rio? Is not your name Mantaro Valley?Beyond the footprints of the Andes--?I can hear your voice in echoesI can hear thy voice, divinely low. I do but know thy by a glanceAs the clouds above me know? .
Five Mixed Poems, with Notes [now is Spanish and English]
1.Night in Jamaica [Peruvianism: 1810]It was a rainy night they say When don Simon Bolivar Slept in the arms of beautiful -Luisa Crober (of Jamaica); thus an Assassin missed his mark When he stabbed Major Amestoy Sleeping in the dark In Bolivar's hammock!.
Top 20 Poetry Quotations
Explore the meaning of poetry and the motivation of poets with this special collection of evocative quotations..
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 age of 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 rain upon a pane.
Take some time to stop and look at nature. Pick up a rock or two and think about where it might have started out and what it might have gone through to end up where you found it.
It Was Not Me
It was not me as I am now. It was not me as I was then.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I respect them, respect you, honor what you tell me and even though I know where you're coming from, I just wanted to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my head And found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him, I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem from him-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a silvery alien craft, And whilst he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an instant one off fine At a cash dispenser of his choice And they are checking all the time On his irises face and voice.And of course they find that he is not, They discover 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 simply cannot be, He is not listed and he is not ranked He is surely not like you and me.
Feelings, O How Glorious!
Sometimes we feel hard-pressed, Our backs against the wall; Sometimes we feel lightheaded, As if we are going to fall.Sometimes we feel fierce anger At those who misuse guns; Sometimes we feel ashamed Of how we treat God's little ones.
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