Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, sensuous impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the popular 8-syllable verse (ballad metre). Free verse, with lamenting poetic moods, even satire (poems inside-out). Here are a few more of his recently written poems. Rosa Peñaloza.
Lamenting Poetic Moods
(Six Poems)
By Dennis Siluk
Spring Scene: Rain
[Along the Mississippi]
Dusk descends. A mist
shows nothing of kindness.
And now, as the sun falls,
a dead pale gleam, hardly
seen …
covers the city, along the
Mississippi–;
With tarnished spring rain–!
Everything is cold and gray.
No moon at all, just pale drab
rain's …
Bleak rain, all night and day;
Pale-bleak rain, along the
Mississippi–.
Note: # 670 [5/16/05]; inspired by the rain;
in St. Paul, Minnesota; and Juan Ramon Jimenez.
Wariwilca
[Ancient ruins by the Andes of Peru, 700 AD]
Ancient ruins, hidden away
In the Mantaro Valley
Huancayo …
A scent of silence … resides
In the quiet skies
Of Wariwilca! …
A cheerful breeze clashes my knees
As I kneel down
And Drink from its spring …
In the quiet corners of
The ruins, spirits still linger
Unruffled ….
# 671 / 05.16.05
American Society:
Yellow moon-light
We are Christians, but have
Not faith–!
We are ecclesiastical but
Not spiritual–!
We have no roots, but we
Have big feet!
It is a land of everyone
Ruled by everyone
Even mystics–!
We have the mountain and sky
And we all try to fly–!
We love God, with or
Without Him–!
It should be made clear–
We are preoccupied with:
Death, money and beer!
(And most folks hate poetry
At best.)
Our youth and Congress
With long grass and low skies–
Are on a road that leads to lies!
As for me–
Books, New York City, just before
Dawn: yellow moon-light shines through
My empty room ….
Farewell, farewell; next stop
My poems becomes alive
With cosmic crap–!
# 669
White Peril
Weakness rides the humans of life!
Humans against the anguish of Satan!
He feels wronged and thus, suffers
Madly with his blemished soul!
They are many; but they exist, they
… Paint white fences for weak humans.
The poor … the poor! He slaps their face;
Puts them in place; It gives gilt filled destinies.
Weakness rides the humans of life!
Madly with the blemished soul of Satan …:
Crazed eyes, shoulders high, high:
He summons us … to his den nearby! …
# 668
Cesar Vallejo's:
Feasible of Black Roses
Bow down your head ol 'poet–
To face God's grace ahead
There are no more trenches
To 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.
He summons you to his den–
The devil and his wind,
So–:
Bow down, bow down
Your blood stained brows
He will take you to the edge.
Closer, closer, I see you now
With Ah! a moving satanic cloud
I see a festival of black-roses:
Hear a clamor in the crowd;
Bow down, bow down, Ol 'poet
… I hear applause!
Forgive me Lord, I tired
In the afternoon of my life–
But souls are seized by devils
And black-roses at festivals:
On days that 'you are sick! …'
# 666 [15/05/2005]
Evangeline of Lima
Evangelina of Lima,
Awoken in her breasts
Warmth at the request
For her hand in marriage
By the handsome young captain
Don Fernando–!
But obsession to gamble
Woud tare his heart away
As he squandered her fortune
And her diamond solitaire ring.
But fortune would have it so,
She died a solid wife–
To save her husbands honor
In the middle of her life.
Note: Inspired by Ricardo Palma, and his "Peruvian Traditions". Being a licensed counselor for many years, and schooled in psychology, and addictions, this case he writes about, was most interesting to me, and therefore I wrote my poem with it as an example. I do not feel I have taken anything away from his writings, and was careful to observe this.