So Many Einstein’s The morning mist, insists there is a God.
The earth remains faithful to its orbit.
The comet cries out to a hundred planets. The sun ascends over the horizon.
From eight to eighty, so many Einstein’s.
The evening dust descends over tired wings. To those who write music, paint poetry,
I say: our goal is to make whole the sum;
Wherein, reason can dwell among everyone. Dennis, some of that figurative verse is great;
Perhaps as good as anyone can make. #736 6/22/05 Just a Drop In every drop of blood, rages war
For existence—
Even in-sects !... #736 6/22/05 Note: these two poems of Dennis Siluk’s reach out towards the world at large, with high spirits, wit and intensity; or so I do believe. What more can I say, except read them for yourself over a few times, see how they fit, or if you can absorb them. I like to read poetry at least three times; once quick to just get the words in my head; then the second time to kind of see how it is put together and check out the substance; and third for pure enjoyment, but sometimes I have to go back and see if I saw what I think I saw; like a painting, poetry can strike each person differently. It can trigger emotions like a movie. Anyhow, I read it a few more times especially if I see lots of images. Rosa Peñaloza Poet Dennis Siluk's book, "Spell of the Andes," is now out, and one can seen and purchased at http://www.amazon.com
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