The Gaul of La Laguna de Paca
I tell you a legend of long agoOf the sunken city of La Laguna de Paca,(Where I had met a lingering ghost)Within this region of Huancayo--Peru;Truth lies, but only the soul knows.
So the legend goes, of long ago:During the rising of the full moonThe Mermaid of La Laguna de Paca, appearsAnd to the nearby towns folks, she echoes...Echoes: her cries and moans!!
Then when one thinks all is well--The enchanting rings, the rings...!Of the bells, the Great Bells, bellsOf the sunken church of La Laguna de PacaAre heard by the folks of the town.
But there is more to this legend:For it is said, wherein the dark night(The ink dark macabre star-lit nights)Wherein the Errieness of the full moonEbbs across the Laguna Paca, gives birth,To the Great Bull,who scrotches the hillside
Scrotches the foliage to its bones...!Scrotches its with fire and brimstone.
And now I tell you of my tale--A tale of that took place but a few days ago,By an embankmnment along the Laguna de Paca.
Here I stood, stood within its grip,trance:Aloft in the eldritch dark it lingeredThis shadowy configuration of the Gaul, The gaul of the lake, Laguna de Paca--.
And there in the giant eucaliptus (tree)It shifted and swayed, looking at me...Then at forth glance, it disappeared,As if it sank in to the great lake...La Laguna de Paca!...
Poet-Author Dennis L. Siluk
San Francisco [Almost a Sonnet]
(The city by the bay of Northern California, near which the Pacific Ocean resides; the year is 1967)
Give Me a Lily Pad & The Continuum [two Poems]
What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin?I gave up trying to win the hearts of the many-.Throw the meat-balls against the wall, stop, stop!!Trying to make them spin, like God did in the heavens!
You make me smilelike I've seldom done beforeYou give me a reasonto want more and more...
The Plane from Iquitos [1959-Part One]
Iquitos & the AmazonPart One
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's follow the poet to hisHell and heaven! Count hisGhosts and dilemma's?
Ceasar Vallejo: Black Roses [In English and Spanish]
Cesar Vallejo: Black Roses
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.
You can do and you can bewhatever you want.You have the power,and the right,to make the changes.
How wonderfully sweet to be a dwellerdwelling on the road of goodbye.Bittersweet tears fall as I thinkof all the places I'll never see,all the faces I'll never know,all the joys I'll never share,as I head for the unknown.I have lived life as best I could,met challenges head on,drawing strength from an unseen source.You cannot come with me on this journeyyou can only stand and watch,sometimes the more difficult task.I know what I must doand I will give myself a voicedrawn from the inward depths of my being. For KenJune 1, 2003copyright Fran Watson
Three Love Poems [all wicked]
Advance: Mr. Dennis Siluk's poetry can have its fire-hearted twists: as with 'Lovers'...', and 'Death...' and the 'Loves's Curse';but love can carry with it, luring assets, especially in these three poems, as you will soon see; two of which he calls sonnets. He sings a dim song, but it all seems to fit in the river of bitter waters; or salty waters. Be that as it may, they are worth the adventure in reading them, weary as they may be. For those interested, his new book of poems will be out in weeks, "Spell of the Adnes," it will be a charming book. Rosa Penaloza
Arizona Blue--Gunfighter: The Wolves Nest [Chapter One of Seven: The North]
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
Two Poems on the Traditions of Peru [in English and Spanish]
No one should have to beg or crawl before humanity. No one should have to scheme to procure philanthropy.
Africa - Wheres The Profit?
A poetic comment that just welled up inside my head ? why cant we just do something ? before many more are dead?
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.
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.
Four Poems: Harvest of Apoplectic Horses [Katrinas Pathway]
Four Poems: Katrina's Pathway
The Spirits de Copan
Ode To Quetzalcoatal [Now in Spanish and English]
Ode to Quetzalcˇatl
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