A Hundred and Fifty Dead [Korean War--l952]
There I sat, ninety-five degree weather
Outside; the bookstore café, was cool.
An Old Timer stood by me, explaining:
"There were two-hundred of us on the Island,
Near North Korea, back in '52-
We guarded 16,000-prisners?
"All of a sudden, all hell broke loose
Three-hundred North Koreans came
Over the bob-wired fence, in pursuit
"It all happened in a matter of seconds
The machineguns killed 150-of them
That's all I saw in the war of '52.
(One American wounded one concussion.)
"Now we had to fingerprint them all!"
The old timer said; exhaustedly;
As if he was to do it all over again?
But they were just old memories unearthed;
Resurrected for a moment, from the
Sands of that little horse-shoe island.
"But I guess I'll never forget," he said with
No regrets!... as he moved on looking
For his table, where he left his coffee.
Notes: as a War Veteran I used to meet a lot of old timers from an assortment of wars, at one time, WWII seemed to be the one I meet the most from; before that, it used to be WWI (when I was a kid); very few from the Korean War (but now and then I meet one), and a few from Vietnam; where I was. Funny it seems, most of these groups are becoming more scarce, especially WWI, and the Korean War; or so it seems. Now we have three more wars to look at: Persian Gulf One, Afghanistan War and Persian Gulf Two (it seems, all in a matter of a decade); and I should mention, the Bosnian War, which my son was involved with; I guess I will not run out of War Veterans to talk to. It is also funny; we stop the longest war on record, the Vietnam War, only to replace it with the four-wars I mentioned. Oh well, that is life is it not.
Dennis Siluk,a poet and a War Veteran, of Vietnam; his recent book, "Spell of the Andes," has two sections, one on the Andes of Peru, the other on Rhymes of War, dealing with Vietnam. You can see his books at any of the Internet sites like http://www.bn.com or http://www.abe.com. He lives in Minnesota and Peru
A World That Doesnt Care
War bombs may explode demolishing man and land.Hurricanes may devastate and leave us entirely bare.Earthquakes may devour and swallow up old landmarks.But nothing is as destructive as a world that doesn't care.
Ode, to the Mighty Midget Omac [In English and Spanish]
Part OneMidget History
In the Mountans of Haiti [A Poem: in English and Spanish]
In the Mountains of Haiti
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three/with notes]
House of the Goblin[Part Two of Three]
Two Poems: Black Poncho, and Spirits of de Copan [in English and Spanish]
A Death in Cajamarca, Peru (Atahualpa, in Cajamarca ((in English and Spanish))
The Epic Poem:
Here And There
My eyes opened. I am still alive;Living on planet earth.Though unconscious for many hours;Unaware of existence,Unknowing of life,Incognizant of humanityLiving in a space of void,Resident of nothingness,Here, but not here.There, but not there.
Ode To Quetzalcoatal [Now in Spanish and English]
Ode to Quetzalcóatl
The King and Delka & Moiromma: the Cold Planet [Parts 25 and 26]
Two Poems on the Traditions of Peru [in English and Spanish]
Tsunami -a Poem Dedicated To Help Aid and Awareness and Encourage Future Harmony. Make Peace Not War
now is not the time to openopen that great door againnot the time to be more tolerantnot the time to play to win
To My Friend, With Love
All is still; all quiet; The world seems to be at peace. My soul is singing its rhythmic melodyAnd I'm led like in a trance to write its tunes. The lyrics are for you. The essence of friendship.
Arizona Blue--Gunfighter: The Wolves Nest [Chapter One of Seven: The North]
So many looked to you for inspiration,
The Exit Poems [Iron and Fire & No Heroes]
The Exit Poems [And Socrates]
Azra, Azra,Wake up Azra.Wake up Azra,It is time to go.Go where you must But hate to do so.Azra, it hurts me to say,But you are the way.Wake up Azra,You have to go.
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca [four poems: see in Spanish and English NOW!]
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca
Poetry ?Reborn? Emerges In Thriller Mystery Novel
Since Mohamed Ali?then Cassius Clay?announced that he had written "The world's shortest poem," I have known that I would be a poet. "ME? WHEE!" His triumphant proclamation evoking shivers within my troubled teenaged identity, for I reasoned in rhyme.
Caught in the Arms of ED
YOU MIGHT THINK I AM STRONG
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