The Cornfields (a Pome)

The Cornfields

Only when the sun above
Melts the scattered winter’s snow
Only shall I live content
In the dim-eyed world below…
In the cornfields
With the summer’s glow
Here, oh yes,
Like melted drops of snow, I
Swell, and swell, then
Melt into the cornfields,
Into one…!

3-26-2009 (No 2583)
Written for the book “The Resisting Winter.”

The Lone Pillars (New World Depression: pome)

The Lone Pillars
(New World Depression)

We were once a temple complete
Beyond the meadows, on top of a hill
Now just lone pillars standing still,
No mind to mind, amongst our fellow men
Everyone’s taking, whatever they can;
Most taking what doesn’t belong to them!
Especially Bankers and Politicians…
In America, England, Europe, China
(across Asia, and the world as a whole)
All over the place, no blood in their face;
And you and I, just looking in, wondering
What happened, what took place?
We’re just lone pillars, displaced?
Waiting for a handout from the rich
As they hold onto everything, as if
They were God’s given gifts.
And I’m just a poet, heart to heart
With the people, wondering why
The temple we once built complete
(so long ago, out of marble and grief)
Has fallen to its feet, as if from the sky?
Too much self-interest, by and by…!
And some executives swear to hang onto it
With life and limb; and others swear:
Try it! It is not the Golden Fleece, nor
The content that will bring you peace:
It is something that was once complete,
Now lost and sadly, beyond anyone’s reach.

Note: 3-25-2009 (No: 2581) Commentary: we are heading into a world crisis, of which economics is just part of it. The world powers are gearing up: Russia, the USA, China, North Korea, Iran, Israel, and all getting ready for the big battle, the showdown and guess who is coming to dinner? The Antichrist! And for those nonbelievers, the world is simple collapsing under its own greed. Pillars of greed, it is coming to the point, why simply should the rich be greedy, we’ll all be greedy, and the rich don’t like that. They want the poor to have Godly values, without God, so they can be the only greedy ones. But we are at a new state in the human race, it is called Darwin’s Dilemma, “Monkey see, monkey do!” The plan is old, the style, new. We are already on borrowed time, everyone knows it, feels it that is why they want to get the most out of everything they can while they can (don’t you?). The world is getting greedier by the hour. Have a happy greedy day.

Woman (a poem)

Woman
By Shannon O’Day

She’s the spider not the fly—
She has the cat’s eye, not I—
She’s like a serpent in the night,
Beware, beware of her plight!
She’s the Snyder not the fly
something, something…
(Not I)!

No: 2580 (3-24-2009)
Shannon O'Day is a character in the poet's book "The Resistng Winter" a Parody of sorts(45-pages) due out sometime in 2009 or thereafter.

Garage on Fire (a New poem by D.L. Siluk)

Garage on Fire

In the Garage, fire and smoke
Fire and smoke, smoke, smoke!
Flames that choke like spikes
Breathing out air sharp as knives
Rusty, rusty edges; lying still
It swept me unconscious, swept
And swept and swept
As I slept, and slept and slept
The smoke, slacken slowly
Under my bedroom door
Around my bed, my mouth shut
It slid over me, slid and slid
Like a snake unfed, a snake
A crushing, tightening snake;
The smoke chokes me with its splinters
Shaped like gloves, shook
And pulled and screeched,
Specimens of death holding on tight,
To clamp around my feet, like steel,
To crush and be crushed, with toxic air
Like pulp, like rusty spikes
Slowly eating my throat square,
Tightly hard, clamped shut
And Rosa heard mother’s voice
“Awake, awake, awake, smoke
Awake, awake, it’s silent…!”
And Rosa woke me, curiosity
Provoked, sort of…
And we knocked the stuffing
Out of the fire, in the garage,
And Mike and Zaneta’s
Diabolical intentions sunk
To the bottom of that winter’s morn!
As they left their foot steps
In the white soft slipper snow
Now so many years ago!

No: 2573 (3-12-2009)

Polirritmo Poetry (Life in Motion)

Polirritmo Poetry
(Life in motion)

By Poet Laureate, Dennis L. Siluk Ed.D.


First of all, the founder of Polirritmo poetry, or life in motion poetry, was Juan Parra del Riego. In a time of modernism, he took a step out of the box you might say, and Cesar Vallejo, who knew Juan Parra, criticized him for it, in that he felt his poetry had lost something. And perhaps he did, but he preferred to write about culture and life as he saw it moving. We see this in his motor cycle poem called, “Dynamic Polirritmo of the Motorcycle”; also, in parts of “Canto to the Carnival,” and so on.
He was born in Peru, in Huancayo, and moved to Uruguay. Some folks have disputed if he be a Uruguay Poet, or Peruvian Poet. If you were to go to Lima or Huancayo, and look for a book written by Juan Parra, in the bookstores, you’d not find one today, yet the Peruvian people prefer to own him, it is a shame they boast of him, yet do not honor him in their schools, and bookstores, and the best I can say on this is, he loved Peru, more than Peru loved him; sad to say, but true, because he wrote a lot about Peru.
While in Paris he met with the new movement called, “Vanguardia,” this would be his choice and circle of friends. Cesar Vallejo would make fun of his poetry, as I mentioned before, saying it lacked, but we must remember Vallejo, was a dark deep moody writer, and not particularly interested in culture, or motion, and he was his rival, they were friends, and while Juan Parra was searching for life and motion, Vallejo was digging deep into the abyss to find his soul.
What Cesar Vallejo didn’t understand, is what many readers of William Faulkner did not understand at first. Faulkner didn’t use periods often, and run sentences into the others that seemed like they didn’t belong there, but his reasoning I do believe was he wanted the reader not to stop reading, or slow down, so he took the periods out, and when he made a new paragraph, he wanted the reader to slide into it, so off came the commas and periods and semicolons. In a like manner, Juan Parra I do believe, cutout the stanza in his motion poetry (for the most part), so the reader could build up the momentum he wanted them to… also his rhyme schema is closer nit than Vallejo’s for that same very reason, in Polirritmo.

The Walrus Poem

The Walrus Poem


The Walrus said, to the King:
“In your world, I’ve learned many things!”
Of War, hunger, disease and gout
Of self-interest, and above!
Of, madness and of hate
But most of all, man’s fate
(Having no part excluded)
That people are just things!”

The King said back to the Walrus:
“You surely have learned many things:
To include, the order of the world,
And its inconveniences!
What did you expect?
From man’s audacious appetite…?”

Said the walrus to the king,
“Love thy neighbor, not the things!
Do not kill out of self-interest,
Buried vivacious prejudices!
To have one God and not so many;
To be faithful to your wife,
And not have such foolish flings,
Amongst many other things…!”

Hissed the King to the Walrus,
In a most robustious voice,
“Go back to your awkward world, you came,
Dash-down, to those far-off ice-grown caves:
The ones you’ve lingered from,
In that incorruptible land,
You indigenous thing,
Evidently, I am the corruptible king!”
But I like things the way they be!

So he said, shrieking…
His manner still courtly, no merciful eye,
And the Walrus, he skedaddled, like a jack-rabbit,
(like an ardent revolutionist) back to his far-off land
And became king, of the Walrus’ …
He had a plan!
(For he had learned many things!)



Note: We may not know it, but we influence people, we change them, that is why the world is, like it is, like it or not. You get what you plant. Then we complain and say, “I can’t figure it out, what happened?” In most cases it is simple, just backtrack a few days, weeks or years, perhaps decades, the story is there, pain as the nose on your face.


No: 2572 (3-9-2009) Dedicated to Rosa the Queen