Wake up Azra, you must go.
Azra, my little girl,
I know Azra it is not fare.
It is you Azra
Oh Mother, must I,
Azra, Azra, my heart aches for you.
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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.
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.
Lamenting Poetic Moods [six Poems]
Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, sensuous impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the popular 8-syllable verse (ballad metre).
Breathing-in, Minnesota [a poem: now in Spanish and English]
In early fall, in Minnesota, the rain falls, falls, In buckets, buckets and more buckets-: drops Likened to music from its many streams-land Of ten-thousand lakes; moistened gravel, gravel Everywhere?Grandpa sits on the porch-daydreaming of, of Something, perhaps winter around the corner-; As the flies disappear, with the mosquitoes? Leaves will soon vanish, shadows will come earlyMaybe he's thinking about summer: miles and miles And miles and miles of cornfields; his childhood now Long gone, he hums a hymn, a song; looking at the Metal-piped fence, he made, with three poles, on the Embankment, leading up the steps to the porch; It's worn-out like him.The winds in Minnesota smell fresh, fresh from all The foliage, there's a lot of it.
The Treasure of Catalina Huanca (In English and Spanish)
Note: written after seeing the little adobe 16th century church San Sebastian, in San Jeronimo, by the mountains of Huancayo, Peru, after being taken there by the Wandering Quechua guide, Enrique (4-13-2005).The Treasure of Catalina HuancaWritten by Dennis L.
Here And There
My eyes opened. I am still alive; Living on planet earth.
Famous Poets Quotations - Top 30 Poetry Quotations by Famous Poets
"For this reason poetry is something more philosophical and more worthy of serious attention than history."-- Aristotle"Every American poet feels that the whole responsibility for contemporary poetry has fallen upon his shoulders, that he is a literary aristocracy of one.
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.
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 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.
Rhymes of an Ordnance Man [Vietnam War: 1971]
Rhymes of an Ordnance Man [Vietnam War: 1971]An eleven part poem By Dennis L. SilukI had went to Vietnam at the age of 23 , and it was most interesting, there were 205,000 troops there when I arrived.
Song of the Great Zimbabwe, and Silver and Inca Blood [Poems and notes]
"Song of the Great Zimbabwe"Across the African, winter's skyIn the Southern edge of Zimbabwe Looking down from the Hill ComplexFrom on top, of an Ancient Rock O'er the mountains steep-:A, vista I've longed to see, residesA site, I've longed to meet-; Thus, dwells, within this African Valley,Among the greatest of man's feats? The great, Great Zimbabwe (Enclosure).A million-stones, built these ancient wallsSome twelve-fathoms, fathoms high That seems to reach unto the sky;Some say: a fortress, and palace, it is; And perhaps-, the legendary 'Ophir!'#747 7/2/05Silver and Inca BloodIn the Great Silver mines of Potosi-(Inca Indians) Conscripted mine workersCarry Quotas of ore-up hundreds of feetOf rope laddered-steps For don Francisco de ToledoAnd King Philip II, of Spain-;A farcified vision to becomeRich-off Inca blood, In the year-1571?#744 7/1/05Notes: (The Inca Empire): the assumption is often that the Inca Empire was a large enterprise of its self; a common mistake at best; complicated for sure; but for the most part, the Inca Empire was comprised of ethnic groups who were subjugated into the Inca Empire, similar to the Roman, which was a city nation [Empire] you might say, who subjugated the whole world into its Roman Empire; likewise, so did the Incas of South America.
A Happiness Poem
If a happiness poem could bring forth a smile, Then my face would always dress in style.If my ears could hear my computer screen, From one to another, they, too, would grin.
The Crusader: A Search for the Virtue Inside (an excerpt of an Epic Poem)
On through the darkness she searches the bones Seeking 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 blood Of the warriors disfigured and maimed; She carries no hope for the life of her love - For naught but his body she came.
I Hate The Wait (Weight)
I get up in the morningAnd want to stay in bedOh, so nice and warmLike fresh from the oven bread.My day is oh so busyI wish that I could stayIn the quiet of my houseIf only I could play.
Poetry in Turbulence
To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is deeply unsatisfying. There are several reasons for this, but two in particular come to mind.
The Art of Receiving Poetic Critique
You can show your poem to your mom, your spouse, your co-workers, or your friends, but you might not get the responses that you can suck up into your little writing fingers to use in an effort to refine your craft. What does it really mean when someone who cares about you, but not for poetry says, "Wow, this is great.
Savage Nature: The Life of Ted Hughes
One of the most important poets of the post-war period, Edward James Hughes (1930-1998), was drawn towards the primitive. He was enchanted by the beauty of the natural world, frequently portraying its cruel and savage temperament in his work as a reflection of his own personal suffering and mystical beliefs - convinced that modern man had lost touch with the primordial side of his nature.
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 Huancayo Black 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 pull The sizzling golden fruit Through the Andes to Lima, Peru!?Henceforward, he was swindled By 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.
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the talking drums your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your ageless minstrels have i not heard of your swinging hips! i have heard enough and have come to watch wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribes the timid tribes of your sweetened tongues the varied tongues of your virtuous menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the mother earth your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa your kings of the ancient dynasty the ancient dynasty of rusted spear and shield africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awake pelting on men as well, the gods gathering itself drop by drop.
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