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Home » Entertainment » Poetry




  1. The Advantages & Disadvantages of HomeschoolingBy: tilak raj

  2. The pros and cons of homeschooling are many, but do the advantages outweigh the disadvantages? With total control over your child's homeschooling needs you have the flexibility to teach your child values that cannot be taught in a public classroom.

  3. Poetry speaks to the Whole Family ChildrenBy: alvina khan

  4. From the moment the shiny new book arrived at my doorstep, I was excited to see what this incredible creation had in store for my son and for me.

  5. Purpose of a Poem (and a Poem)By: Dennis Siluk

  6. I think most people writing poetry or writing about poetry, has their own concept of what should be, what shouldn’t be, what is, what is not: you know, our own little world of poetry.

  7. Two Poems and a Commentary (...Mad City & Halo for Hell)By: Dennis Siluk

  8. "New Orleans, Mad City"New Orleans, mad cityWhat have yea for your pence?I see the shackles in your keepHave opened doors to the sheep— Yea! And souls of many!New Orleans, mad cityWhat thieves shall you invite?An old woman, your youth is done,Will the torches flare tonight? Now shadows come: the shadows go— Yea! And the souls of many!New Orleans, mad cityWith no blood in the face!That toiled for gold and fame;The blood upon your thin pen Gave only free servitude: Yea! To the souls of many!#844 9/10/05Note by the author [brief commentary]: “Perhaps New Orleans will survive as it struggles to rise from beneath the iron waters of the tyrant storm.

  9. Fantasy/Controversy or My Reality: CaptivatesBy: Ruth Garnes

  10. Fantasy/Controversy or My Reality: a collection of poetic writing that comes from the heart.

  11. The Misty Poets [three Poems]By: Dennis Siluk

  12. Desolation [Dedicated to Poet Bei Dao of China]We are only Free Because the hunter Is far away, (but he is coming) The sun used to blind His eyes—used to! Should the prey, think He is not pray He will be bellowing Over dray corpses Trembling as the hunter wipes The sun from his face.

  13. Poetry ExercisesBy: Devrie Paradowski

  14. Poetry is very much an art.

  15. Four Poems: Harvest of Apoplectic Horses [Katrina's Pathway]By: Dennis Siluk

  16. Four Poems: Katrina's PathwayHarvest of Apoplectic Horses ((Dedicated to: Katrina)) crisis)It has happened before: Nearby and afar, Where the four-horses of Apocalypse With their flaming nostrils Breathed in the fury of the winds Only to vomit out, disaster; — Then galloped away, Against pale faces!.

  17. Birthday MessagesBy: Francisraj Bonaventure

  18. I WANTED TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF FLOWERS A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.

  19. 22 Steps to Poetry - FreestyleBy: Sheryl Joy Olaño

  20. First things first.

  21. It Was Not MeBy: Zora Teofilovic

  22. It was not me as I am now.

  23. I Shall Wait...By: Shilpa Malaiya

  24. I Shall Wait.

  25. Give Me a Lily Pad & The Continuum [two Poems]By: Dennis Siluk

  26. What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin? I gave up trying to win the hearts of the many—.

  27. Contract of Death [Now: in SPANISH and English]By: Dennis Siluk

  28. 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.

  29. The Goat and the Rope [a Poem: in Spanish and English]By: Dennis Siluk

  30. The Goat and the Ropewhere there were devils I saw none.

  31. Daybreak at Pikes Creek [a Poem]By: Dennis Siluk

  32. Daybreak at Pikes Creek [Summer of 2005]Daybreak by Lake Superior Rising out of the woods like: A swamp mist I’m waiting for breakfast(at the B&B) I pace the grounds The scent of green shrubbery: Trees, flora, flowers—rain Intoxicates me— Branches like big brown arms Descend… The embankment, to the right Blue eyed, like mine—reflect From the creek beneath me (my wife says ‘be careful’ she went to get the camera) The greens and blues touch My face and blue jeans— Reflections mirrored like Musical notes of a symphony (I’ll see them later in pictures) For now, it’s daybreak In Minnesota.

  33. Blind Designs [a Poem] and a Note by Rosa on "The Other Door"By: Dennis Siluk

  34. Blind DesignsBorn today, gone tomorrow Like a butterfly with no stomach Born n the morning, dead by night Oh—let me whisper Oh—let me cry What man has not learned? What man will not learn! In his pomposity, his rhetoric With his abstract concepts With his intellect With his creativeness He has become enslaved By—them… By them all, he will fall.

  35. Ole Bulky Jeeps & Paper, Ink and Rain [two Peoms]By: Dennis Siluk

  36. Ole Bulky JeepsThrough late summer’s heat These bulky shaped jeeps Ride by house and farm City and barn—Hungry for Spring—again, hoping to avoid The Slipping and sliding Of winter’s ice and wind…[s]Their weighty legs are dirty From moving dust and rain (Here and there, everywhere) Through all kinds of terrain Like moving clouds caught In the foliage of the woods… They never slow down a ting They have a duty, and give.

  37. Poetry and Popular CultureBy: Devrie Paradowski

  38. Is poetry too complicated for the average reader? Is it too cryptic, scholarly? If you ask a large group of average people what they like or don't like about poetry, you'll get a few different answers, but there is an overwhelmingly common category of responses.

  39. Infected Ideologies [a Poetic Portrait]By: Dennis Siluk

  40. the disease of extremism is infectious—; whoever cannot think of their child growing up without it is part of the phenomenon! (the choice of the day).

  41. Wars, Air of Ambiguity [for: Lt. Laura Walker] in SPANISH and EnglishBy: Dennis Siluk

  42. Wars, air of AmbiguityDedicated to 1st.

  43. Ceasar Vallejo: Black Roses [In English and Spanish]By: Dennis Siluk

  44. Cesar Vallejo: Black RosesBow down your head ol’ poet— To face God’s grace ahead There are no more trenchesTo dig today… In the forest of your head,So—: Bow down, bow down,Ol’ barbaric poet! Death rides the horse ahead I hear the crackling of a whip See the crazed eyes of death.

  45. Memoirs of a Wasteland's Rim [a Poem: now in Spanish and English]By: Dennis Siluk

  46. Memoirs of a Wasteland’s RimIt still was light when she paused at the wasteland’s rim— Over, the rim rest like a sleeping brute, a wooden frame Adjacent to the blue where early stars hung like oil lamps Hanging from old beams and shade…the wooden frame Her footing caught the beams, as she had fallen onto it Alone, she watched the forenoon, climbing around her A drifter woman, marked by life, and slanting dreams With appearance of hurt and molded muscle on her face Her figure etched against the wooden frame, She tried to jump, and lost her balance, hanging like a bird Now sipping the gloom in the ledge and shattered hopes She yielded before the sluggish advance of sunset Blood dripped, with her dying darkness And a crimson moon hurled a flame across The shadowy clouds, burning throughout the sky The tormented sky above her…Crossing the valley’s floor her eye gripped it Rocky images, highest points Thrusting herself up boldly from to the ledge The painted morning blushed over the rim Her brows and nose, face against the granite stone Massive injuries was taking form, Her silhouette floating so indolently across the sun It was too great a task—to die alone…she wished now She had not jumped…a thousand feet below, yet to go.

  47. Uamak's Aquatic [suspense: now in Spanish and English]By: Dennis Siluk

  48. Delicately, my mind was selecting a muffled tune, out of the dead dark empty space surrounding me…I saw a shape on a rock, not sure who it was; I had a sensitivity though, a feeling call it, or second-sight; I’ve heard that before, not sure if I want to put a lot of credence into it, but so be it, the sensitivity and numbness was there.

  49. Grandpa's House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems]By: Dennis Siluk

  50. Grandpa’s House [The ole Real House]The house needed painting Sun-blistered and flaking Grandpa started to have us Boys—Mike and I— start Doing some scraping—While he, pealed off the ole Paint, and started painting…Just a humble wooden house With several rooms, but Strong enough to keep the Winds and winter snows out, How he loved that ole house!.

  51. Breathing-in, Minnesota [a poem: now in Spanish and English]By: Dennis Siluk

  52. 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.

  53. An Old Wood Pile [a poem with notes]By: Dennis Siluk

  54. Old skin, once held tight Against her skeleton— Rose no more, just draped Loosely over unpadded flesh; Un-tightened muscles, and tissue, Lost its courage, no-fortitude—, Gone are the days and years That stood against the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmark Hidden under flesh and blood Guts and moral fiber, backbone… Collapsed from drudgery Time, time: cascading inside—.

  55. The Exit Poems ["Iron and Fire" & "No Heroes"]By: Dennis Siluk

  56. The Exit Poems [And Socrates]Iron and FireIron can be soften by fire— grows hard in the cold; and all the gates therein are, as it was, closed again.

  57. Arizona Blue--Gunfighter: The Wolves Nest [Chapter One of Seven: The North]By: Dennis Siluk

  58. [Episode Five]Arizona Blue—GunfighterThe Wolves Nest—in the North[Episode Five]Northern Minnesota Area–Winter of 1877Chapter One of Seven: The NorthThe area was known as Pigs Eye [St.

  59. The Crusader: A Search for the Virtue Inside (an excerpt of an Epic Poem)By: Robert Curtis

  60. 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.

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