| |
| |
|
Poetry Information brought to you by free Poetry contests |
|
|
|
San Francisco [Almost a Sonnet]
(The city by the bay of Northern California, near which the Pacific Ocean resides; the year is 1967) Mid October seemed like some spring day, When through the poised waters, dry as lead, Slipped down the curved coast of Frisco bay, My home, to be, I found stirring and grey. The waves busted on the wooden-sides; fishermen Nearby with long necks, looked and cast again. The ferry bearing restrained the great sea bird 6/4/05 #708 Note by the Author: Sonnets are tricky little creatures, and although I started out to create one, I found I had to lay it aside, and create a semi-sonnet, for I did not want to lose tone, and spirit of the waters around the bay of San Francisco, and the echoes that came with it. I had lived there in l967-68 for a year. And many ferry rides were available for a few dollars. Some even chanced it by going under and out beyond the Golden Gate, and so it was the supreme achievement of my youthful years to have become a part of this fascinating city, in such a fascinating time period, one unequalled since the 1920's when Hemingway and Fitzgerald walked the streets of Paris, and Scott, coined the term, "The Jazz Age," back in l967, it was the Hippie Era. I suppose for me, I do not feel bound by formal regularity to create a full sonnet, but in this poem neither did I want blank verse, which is unrhymed iambic pentameter. So this is what I came up with. The trip I took on the boat was actually with my mother, who came to visit me in the city by the bay, as I had gotten drafted to go into the Army, and onto Vietnam. It was a joyful memory for both of us, which lasted until she passed on in 2003; yes, we talked about those far off days in San Francisco, of which she only stayed for a week, for 35-years; what more can one ask for out an experience. Poet Dennis Siluk web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
MORE RESOURCES:
Poetry - Google News |
|
|
|
RELATED ARTICLES
Lucky... You make me smile like I've seldom done before You give me a reason to want more and more.. Two Poems Written During Recovery Since my wife and I are moving, or preparing to move, we've been going through our things as most people must, to prepare for the new location, and in doing so, I found two poems, ones I wrote in 1990, now 15-years old, never published, and so I'd like to publish them today. I was a heavy drinker up to 1984 (some twenty years drinking), when I quite, and so these poems must have something to do with it, a slight reflection perhaps. I Shall Wait... I Shall Wait.. My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition She probably can't remember and I know I can never forget.. The Last King of Mars [A Poetic Mytho] [As Told by the Last] King: it was in the year 23,700 BC that one of the two moons of earth was hit by a meteor that of which, a great part of the moon broke off and hit earth's surface with a devastating impact. Thus the solar system absorbed a cataclysm in unimaginable proportions, from Jupiter to Mars; knocking Earth out of its 100,000-year Ice Age. It Was Not Me It was not me as I am now. It was not me as I was then. Stones As I picked up some of the polished gemstones in the rock store I began to think about what the stones looked like before they were polished. The store had several rocks on display showing the before and after and I realized that unless you knew what you were looking for, you could easily pass by a valuable gemstone. Since Youve Been Gone... My life has changedin so so many waysIt seems to always bein a state of disarray.. Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems] 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!.. The Time Has Come and Buzzing Most of my poems are written late at night, often, as this one was, after I have turned out the lights to go to sleep. It seems that is the time when I am most creative. Tale of the: Old Hunter and the Golden Hare [In SPANISH and English now] There once lived an old man and his goodwife On the edge of the thick of the woods; They lived in an old run-down shack For forty-years and some. The old man hunted for his living, And his wife sewed on her lap. Shakespeares Sonnet XVIII, Shall I Compare Thee to a Summers Day? Shakespeare's sonnets require time and effort to appreciate. Understanding the numerous meanings of the lines, the crisply made references, the brilliance of the images, and the complexity of the sound, rhythm and structure of the verse demands attention and experience. A Happiness Poem If a happiness poem could bring forth a smile, Then my face would always dress in style.If my ears could hear my computer screen, From one to another, they, too, would grin. Preserving Dignity No one should have to beg or crawl before humanity. No one should have to scheme to procure philanthropy. Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one deeply loved. We come to accept the death and adjust our lives - rather begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive. Two Poems: Black Poncho, and Spirits of de Copan [in English and Spanish] English Version12) Black Poncho(of Saint Cosme Hill, by Lima, Peru)Lost in the grottos of Peru- By the hills of Huancayo Black Poncho was given A treasure of gold?; By none other than, Demonic goblins!?in the form of scorching fruit; Hence, Black Poncho fooled The goblins of oldBy using his poncho to pull The sizzling golden fruit Through the Andes to Lima, Peru!?Henceforward, he was swindled By a jeweler of dire repute. Thus, his life changed (as so often they do); And now he lives with: Thirty-five dogs, on San Cosme Hill. Ambiguity and Abstraction in Bob Dylan's Lyrics To many people contemporary poetry is a turn-off. The reason for this is that the majority of these poems are boring. Wondering How I wonder what he's doing as I sit alone at night. How I wonder who he's seeing How I wonder if I'm right. You Lost Your Last Gamble and Me I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who will be your Dad - But if you bluff about a card's face value for too many years you forget you had - No Aces or King of Hearts in your original deck - But rather a worthless Joker-So Wild and Mad.. Hindu Poet - Kamalakanta Kamalakanta was born in Burdwan India in the late 18th Century. From an early age he expressed an interest in spirituality and later in life Kamalakanta received initiation into Tantric Yoga from a Tantric yogi named Kenaram Bhattacharya.
|
| home | site map |
| © 2006 |
.jpg)