This RSS feed URL is deprecated, please update. New URLs can be found in the footers at https://news.google.com/news
Spotlight: Amherst Poetry Festival and Emily Dickinson play; new work by Northampton Playwrights Lab - GazetteNET
There's a lion in London's Trafalgar Square that eats words and roars AI-generated poetry - The Verge
JOINEDHeart beat of man pounding - yet unheard joined becomes the beat of a nation.Words of man written - yet unread joined becomes a proclamation.
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
English Version1) Grendel's DivorceYou must know that I do not hateAnd that I hate you, Because everything dead has twoSides; 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.
Live For Today...
Isn't that what they say?But what does that mean?There's no definition that mayanswer that question..
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'.
Ode to: The Ice Maiden of Ampatos Summit [now in: English and Spanish]
Dedícate to Antonio Castillo. L.
Chan Chan and The Gorriones (Two Poems in English and Spanish)
The following two poems, one in English, the other in English and Spanish were done during this ongoing trip in Peru, while in Lima, although the poem concerning: Chan Chan was oriinally started last year,while at the ancient site in Northern Peru, it was just finished recently.The Gorriones of LimaIt is fall all around me-The Gorriones are swimming in the air Underneath the Lima skyAs if-, if fish could fly?Summer has gone its wayIt is fall again I say! The birds-, they just walk on byLooking, as if, if on parade-AndThe world keeps spinning;They just do not see it Until the hour comes?When the sun goes down!?When,Things get a little dim;Yet the Gorriones keep on swimming Gracefully, swimming, in the wind-Under the Lima sky? .
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.
A Ship to Remember
You cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved.
In Poetry: Meaning of Words [And ...Rocket-belt]
In Poetry: Meaning of WordsWhen I write poetry, I check out the meaning of words for too often they sound the same, but once written, and if spelled wrong, in consequence, give a complete different meaning of what I had intended; this I call a moment of damage control. If my rhyme is flat, and my cadence is off, so what, I can survive, as long as the meaning of my words are not; and are as I meant them to be.
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.
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.
You Lost Your Last Gamble and Me
I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who will be your Dad - But if you bluff about a card's face value for too many years you forget you had - No Aces or King of Hearts in your original deck - But rather a worthless Joker-So Wild and Mad..
Biography of Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Bronte (1816 -1855) Novelist and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev.
Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists that we examine the deceptive clarity of our actions and the goals that motivate us. How does one actually get from "A" to "B"-and is there ever really a "B"? What color is the white space between "A" and "B"? Upon closer inspection, surface realities reveal themselves to be porous and fragile, layered with textures and grains that lead the eye on varying pathways.
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 new Now wrapped in pictures and books, And friends and family were all I knew And love was shown by friendly looks!#741 6/26/05Old AgeThey stop by to see me now To 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.
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.
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 huge Mountains stretching northbound,And heading towards the ocean's coast.
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.
A Dose of Laughter
I'm not well. Can't you tell? Kinda low, so, give me a dose of laughter.
|home | site map|