By Dennis Siluk | On December 15, 2005 | In Poetry | Rated

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—.
Bones now leaving impressions
Accepting fate
Like tarnished silver!...
Hands look like autumn leaves
Fallen from a tree
Winter’s around the corner
The door of time is closing
Like an old wood pile
Being burnet up—
Hard to open things
Hard to do anything
Precariously balanced—
Painfully slow…

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By Dennis Siluk | On December 15, 2005 | In Poetry | Rated

11)An October Afternoon in Lima, Peru

The sun sets upon my brow
A book upon my lap—
The city’s cars I hear nearby
—as a realm of thoughts…
Sink deep into my mind—

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By Dennis Siluk | On December 15, 2005 | In Poetry | Rated

“Song of the Great Zimbabwe”

Across the African, winter’s sky

In the Southern edge of Zimbabwe
Looking down from the Hill Complex

From on top, of an Ancient Rock
O’er the mountains steep—:

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By Dennis Siluk | On December 15, 2005 | In Poetry | Rated

The art of beauty I have found
In the hands of Martina—de Peru
; The artist of: skin, flesh and beauty;
She lifts up an alien face—
Whom calls for the ole sun to rise
(a little beauty, lost somewhere—
somewhere—in the night).

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By Dennis Siluk | On December 15, 2005 | In Poetry | Rated

House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]

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