Stone Beds [A Poem and an Advance]
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. In many cases, beds were turned into stones. I have been to Italy twice, and Pompeii, most be the most blazing archeological sites in the world.
For those not familiar with Pompeii, (the city, for there was also a General in the Roman Army, called Pompeii, whom gave his name to the city), for those folks, let me clarify: just the name stimulates deep slurs if not down right nightmarish emotions.
Pompeii is located by the Bay of Neapolis. The time of the eruption, was A.D. 79. Pompeii, was a resort city, as you might think of Los Vegas. It was the Roman Empires richest city, with luxurious villas, and all seemed to live a most enjoyable lifestyle. This city reminds me of the Titanic, and Sodom and Gomorra. Yes, Pompeii was a most corrupt and violent city, or town-let, as some would have it.
Skulls stained from
Dim and faint was their fate.
The shapes of bodies?;
In clay pottery!...
Note: 5/8/05 #642
Author/Poet Dennis Siluk, http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
This RSS feed URL is deprecated, please update. New URLs can be found in the footers at https://news.google.com/news
Ambiguity and Abstraction in Bob Dylan's Lyrics
To many people contemporary poetry is a turn-off. The reason for this is that the majority of these poems are boring.
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.
Exalted Poetry; Two poem [and commentary]
Bells for Belphegor!..
Our home was warm in the shade of the trees or when the sun was not upon it.It was built on the side of a hill, near a lake where spirits could be free.
My hero, my best friend, my Grannio (a.k.a my Grandmother)
She raised me like I was her own daughter from the day I was born 32 years ago.She loved me like nobody else has ever loved me in my life.
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
Contract of Death [Now: in SPANISH and English]
Contract of DeathI heard today, the preacher say: "Daniel has warned us long ago, Of the trials and tribulations we Are now facing, with our foes?"He says the 'Antichrist' was now In Europe crying: 'peace,' and the 'Axis of Evil,' had already 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 loaded Gun for Revelation 3:10;America. A 'Contract for Death,' Is what he called it.
Rules for Writing Poetry
You've been writing poetry since that first assignment in your high school writing class. You know the rules about writing poetry, right? Are there rules? Well, if you frequent the poetry forums across the Internet as much as I do, you'd find that there are a lot of amateur poets who adamantly declare that there are no rules for writing poetry and if someone even suggests reading poetry or books on poetry, many of the amateur poets will throw up a defensive front.
Shakespeares Sonnet XVIII, Shall I Compare Thee to a Summers Day?
Shakespeare's sonnets require time and effort to appreciate. Understanding the numerous meanings of the lines, the crisply made references, the brilliance of the images, and the complexity of the sound, rhythm and structure of the verse demands attention and experience.
Because of You
You are to me my lifeline my security. That scares me.
Four Poems: Two for the Devil, Two for Peru
Here is some witty poetry (not sure if that is the proper word: witty, but it will do): one poem on the Aztec year 2012, a year that has been in the public's eye quite a lot; one on cloning, and the biblical end time events--which, if I may add seems ripe for the monster events that are said to take place; and two poems dealing with some tradtions of Peru; one imparticular, on vacationing, where not to go; all the makings for some thought.Aztec BabyOn December 25, 2012 AD The Devil had an idea- He'd clone himself In the form of a baby; Called the Antichrist.
Thank You To Our Soldiers And A Tribute To Old Glory And A Prayer For Peace
Thank youDedicated to soldiers and their loved onesFor those who have laid in fox holes,carried guns,marched for hours.For those who have had cold sleepless nights,endless days of discomfort.
My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition
She probably can't remember and I know I can never forget..
Burning Autumn Leaves [a poem in Spanish and English]
Burning Autumn Leaves [1950s in St. Paul, Minnesota]My long steel pointed rake punctured And twisted through tons of autumn leaves (back in the '50s); And there's a hill yet, I didn't rake, I see Behind it, two embankments Leaves I didn't rake a day ago; The essence of fall sleeps on the ground.
Arizona Blue--Gunfighter: The Wolves Nest [Chapter One of Seven: The North]
[Episode Five]Arizona Blue-GunfighterThe Wolves Nest-in the North[Episode Five]Northern Minnesota Area-Winter of 1877Chapter One of Seven: The NorthThe area was known as Pigs Eye [St. Paul, Minnesota]; Northfield was a little more notorious since Jessie James robbed the 1st National Bank, in September of last year, and more to the West.
For My Mother
I cannot bear to think of when you will be gone.I do not understand how I will get along.
Here And There
My eyes opened. I am still alive; Living on planet earth.
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 arctic Seem silently stone frozen!Here, here is where you find Peace and the beast within-! Remote, no ears or wordsTo clutter the mind To entrench the throat; Here, here is where you die?(for a moment).Here, the sky has eternal eyes Eyes with cosmic tides Tides that never rest: they warWith the Universe- Likened to a dark deep abyss; Endless and never resting?Here my eyes seek and search In countless hours, ebbing and Sweeping the heavens aboveNumbing, changeless- Are the cosmos, the heavens? Here resides a strange peace?Here, resides a strange peace With an army of stars to defeat Shinning, 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 bridges One star bridging the next-as if,If Kings and Queens were Guarding them-the Hosts- O-Yes! A strange, strange peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee Flaming, blazing firmaments-ye, Ye, remind me not, of the wars I left,Of the foes, divine immortals?The enemies that never rest Ah! 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.
Two Poems and an Analysis ['Witness,' & 'An Old Love']
Two Poems and an Analysis ['Witness,' & 'An Old Love']WitnessMy face belongs to whoever sees it Everything has a meaning but life Even the bugs strive for existence God saved man, from God Ghosts have lonely sins Her bones are stones Up and down the hill Gardens blossom Spotless skies Dramatists August I can not rest!..
Mechanical Poetry; Part Two
What do you do when you want to write poetry? I hope your answer is "I start writing." Even writing a bad poem is better than waiting for the "right words.
|home | site map | Art of the Ocean|