Are you: Dead or Alive? (For Old Folks)) Commentary))

Are you: Dead or Alive? (For Old Folks)) Commentary))


You give up being afraid because you want to live, otherwise you are alive without knowing you are, and simply remain afraid—but to live and be alive, and know so, is to be afraid and to allow it, it tells you something—, it tells you it is better than being dead. My uncle lived with heart problems, like so many, died at 61-years old, and was afraid to live, thus, he lived like he was dead already, like he had a pocket full of dynamite ready to explode at any minute, had it in his hip pocket I think, that is worse than being dead.
On the other hand, my mother died at 83-years old, lived like life was her gift, and the moment she was in, it was to be lived, lived, in the moment. They were going to put her in an old folks home, complications the last thirty days of her life, and she said, “Who wants to live like this, would you?” And of course I nodded my head no, and she died before they could bring her to such a place, to pace the floor, and be turned over by orderlies, every hour, and spoon feed. That’s how it was, and that is how it would have been, had I allowed them to take her, and she didn’t want to be taken. They asked me, “What do you want to do?” I said, “I’m not dying, she is, it is what she wants to do, not me…” (end of conversation).
My Grandpa died in his home at 83-years old, died of a stroke they say, he lived in the moment. My great grandfather fell off a roof and died, at a younger age, perhaps never knew what happened until he woke up and found out he was dead. And my aunt, she died at 78-years old, recently, I think to an allergic reaction, she was living with her granddaughter.
My father in law, went on a long trip for three months, he is going on 86-years old in a few months. He told me, “Maybe I’ll see you again (soon).” My wife didn’t catch that response, but I did. Meaning, I may or may not come back, because everyday counts now.
Old folks are aware time is short, and young folks think they got lots of time to spare, usually that is the way it is, except for wartime of course. It is how it is suppose to be. Before this year is up, somebody I know will die, perhaps me, but I refuse to quietly go out, why? Because what else do we have but life. I am no longer looking for reasons or answers to life’s mysteries, leave that for psychology, I want to continue racing down the path of life, this is my time, my hour, in which will be over quickly enough anyhow. Thus flee while you can life is but a few evenings later…then it is morning, a new haven will be at hand. And whatever you got in the piggy bank, will not be there waiting for you at the new haven resort, or perhaps the abyss, depending on which way the wind shifts you.

The World in Disorder: Specific Times

The World in Disorder: Specific Times


We are losing our Ice sheets in Antarctica, and the Pacific and Indian Oceans are having their toll on mankind, and good ole mother earth, and we are sucking the oil out of her like draining the whirlpool dry, plus, weather temperatures are unpredictable along the Ring of Fire, and throughout the Gulf of Mexico, and from the East to West Coast of the United States, and Western Europe. The Arabs have enough oil to ignite WWIII, as they have been trying for some time now. We are letting psychopathic rouge countries like North Korea and Iran, acquire the Atomic Bomb, while the United Nations tries to pacify the situation, and let them Black Mail, the world. What is going on around us? I thought it was bad in the 80s, and the 90s, but the new century is nothing to sneeze at, if we live through this century, it will be a miracle, and I mean really, and will have to be by God intervening. Parts of Africa that once had plenty of water within its lakes and rivers are also drying up, because of weather, and dams. And again we see fighting and starvation from the West to the East to the South of Africa, and throughout the Middle East. We got leaders in South America that should be shoe shinning, not trying to lead countries. Dictators that know how to talk, stand up in front of a crowd and bellyache, and cry, and fly here and there and boast about this and that, and do nothing for their people.

These are what I call Specific Times. When I say that, I mean, these times are not set, they are free standing, let me explain. Biblically, there are two periods of times, now and then. We are in the now time, Israel has returned to its land. Bondage is over. Thus, for the world, the sun is coming down. We are in what I call a deep sleep. Back in the old days, a generation was considered a hundred years, not thirty-three, back in Abraham’s day that is. This was not an approximate time, but an exact date. The Israelites were forced to leave their land, and thus went into captivity; once with Egypt, once with Babylon. The fall of Jerusalem came about. The Jews were scattered among the nations for 2520-years, as foretold by Daniel and Ezekiel.

The date I am working up to is A.D. 2004 (now passed by three years); it was arranged so we could not set dates in advance during these last days, but accordingly, we would have stopped at 516 B.C. (a fixed date); from there is when we start counting, for the final captivity of Nebuchadnezzar was in 586 BC, the final return being 516 B.C., beyond this we have no fixed dates but one date for 2520-years beyond, reads AD 2004.We are unsure want event will mark the return of Christ, but it is close. But we do know Christ will come to His Temple, so the Jews have to build it, correct? This is all sufficiently accurate for my purpose. For the understanding we will have to wait for the event, but undoubtedly it will come, if it was not 911, the mark of the end times, I do expect it to be bigger. But the countdown is surely now, this prophecy for 2520-years concerns all Israel, for with these, all Jews will have return to Israel, not a partial return as in the past, but in full, and to my understanding, no one on earth is holding them back any longer, the prophecy (s) have come about or about to, everything is in place.

So what is happening out there? I call them birth pains; we are in the end times.

Monkey Jump: Man's Neolithic Climb (Poem with Commentary)

Monkey Jump: Man’s Neolithic Climb (10,000 to 7000 BC)


Somehow, someway, some time, and somewhere
Long ago, ancient man (often called Ape),
Went from sub-Homo, to Homo, in one big leap;
There was this defining gene, with rapid wings,
And man reaped the benefits, from its seed—
And Intolerance, was maimed, and man gained,
A whooping, and romping, and stomping, enzyme,
Which broke down lactose (a main sugar it contained??)
Going through its brain, --all in all, man now,
Hand a survival rate, or advantage as they say:
And the population grew and changed; next
Came Adam and Eve, and a deadly seed: Caen!....

#1701 2/26/2007


Commentary ‘Changing One’s Style’: One can call “Monkey Jump…” a lyric poem, if they wished to, and they’d be right, or perhaps, a short Ode, celebrating mankind from one point to the next, which is really an ode/Lyric poem in essence anyhow; or an Elegy, a poetic lament for the dead or absent, in this case, the missing link between them and us, or Man’s climb to whom he is. If indeed it was a climb. In two of my previous stories, one now in book form, “After Eve,” and one unpublished, thus far, called “The Fable of Big-chest (although on the internet)” I try to produce I suppose this missing link, in these stories, as in the poem “Monkey Jump…”one can see it transpire if they read both stories. The point being, poetic fiction can be divided up into historical novels, or stories to make novels, and different types or styles can be used. Poems come in many types of genres, and poets should take advantage of them I do believe, utilizing what they know the best, and not simple write what is expected, such as, and too often I believe confessional poetry, can be this draft of wind. As good as it can be, and I love reading it, poets get stuck in one mode, and every poem ends up reading like their others. An opinion.

Jose Luis…Maranda: Goofball to Goofball

Jose Luis…Maranda: Goofball to Goofball (Has Christ Returned)

“Jose Luis de Jesus Miranda says he is God, and his followers believe him.” CNN World News

I’m not sure where I want to start with this article, I mean, it is one thing for this Jose Luis man to announce to the world, he is God, God, incarnate, like Jesus, and it is another thing for followers to follow him, and I can accept that, but for intelligent folks that are at CNN, it doesn’t give me much hope, or better put, reliability in what kind of news they are after, to present this to the public. I mean, we are grownups reading your News CNN; not goofballs, like Jose Luis, trying to get you to write an article about him, to give to us to read. CNN’s credibility of a serious news forecaster has diminished in my eyes. I would expect something like that from the scandal magazines you find in all the grocery stores, you know which ones, the ones that are so unbelievable; you buy them anyway to have a laugh. But when you read CNN, normally you don’t read trash, nor have we?
It makes me think, how can I get CNN to do an article on my books, I mean, do I put 666 on the Front cover and offer it to myself, and have people bow before me and call me Jesus Christ of Lima and Minnesota. A Cheep shot; and all the Christian religions are up in an uproar, let the goofball alone, why give him a once of publicity. If the dummy’s want to follow him, let them: a goofball for goofballs, you know, similar people like similar people—like to like. I got a roof I got to put on my house, the shingles, and this article is really too long for the subject matter, Jose Lus de Jesus Miranda, a sad case at best.
I always found, the more interest you give to a goofball, sooner or later, who is ever looking, will never be able to tell, which one is the real goofball, so he selects both, one for talking one for listening.

Angel or White Shadow (Surr’el)

Angel or White Shadow (Surr’el)

My guardian Angel—
I’ve named you—Surr’el
I hope you don’t mind

I’ve never heard your voice
But I’ve seen you—
At least one time.

I’m the one you’ve protected
For so many years,
You stood, beside my bed once…

(when I was dying, almost gone…
and I got a glimpse of you—
tall and white and broad:)

You are my white shadow
Who I wish to meet someday,
I have thought of you often…!

#1696 2-18-2007

The Unpardonable Sin

The Unpardonable Sin


What is the unpardonable sin, the sin that is so dark it has a black halo, and will not be allowed to enter light, once we are dead?
God said he will pardon many things, or almost everything, but one thing He will not pardon. This one thing or sin is higher than rape, or killing or stealing in God’s book, or farthing around with your neighbor’s wife (like King David did). The unpardonable sin in the old testament is the same in the New Testament (but with a tilt); that is, in the old Testament, denying God to be God, the great “I AM”, and with a little blood sacrifice did the trick, “Thou shall not have other God’s before me,” (a Jealous God he is, perhaps more so than my wife) as written in the Ten commandments, was, and is the same in the New Testament, although a little more spelled out and as I said before, with a tilt, thus, denying Christ as God incarnate, or Christ to be Christ, the messiah, the messenger, the one of three in one, and the only one that whom can save you through grace (God’s Grace) with and through faith (to believe in), to be eternal or ever lasting, and ones fate to be resting in his hands—to believe in, or having trust in that He can do what he said he can do, which is save you from the black hale syndrome, is the unpardonable sin. Nothing less or nothing more, denying in either case was, is and continues to be, the “Unpardonable sin,” like it or not (I hope this makes sense, I don’t know how else to put it).

The Ten Commandments is simply, or was simply, designed to show you and me, we could not—with all our hard work, keep them. Or at least I can’t. For long spells I could, and then woops, I fall into the trap of the flesh, or this or that. Thus God has proven his point to me; I am helpless to think I can keep the Ten Commandments. So why did he give them? My best assumption is (to me, is), to show us we couldn’t keep them, and we’d have to go to him, for grace, and since we could not see him, it would have to be by faith. So now we got grace thru faith. So if all our sins are forgiven, we got to believe in him, right? If not, how can they be forgiven, so, not believing turns out to be the snag in the road, the Unpardonable sin!

Shapes--and Lima's Summer Heat

Shapes and HEAT in Lima’s Summer

I can tell by the morning
After I get up, look out my windows
That heat will come, thus, I can bake
In the outside restaurant, in the afternoon—
Next, I hear the birds in the garden singing
I look at the shapes of them (everything)
In the park, doorways, the street
Like syllables in a poem; shapes, shapes
(I can almost count them))The shapes))
They have faces you know, and
Images, weight, color (dimensions)
Everything, every little thing, has shapes.
I let myself (for a moment) just a moment,
I let the shapes dominate me (by them)
And then, then the heat comes…
Souring is the sun (in Lima’s summer)
Then I rush down to El Parquecitos
A Restaurant in Miraflores…
(by: Taxi, Taxi, Taxi…more shapes)
—talk to:
Carmon, Ela, or Sarah … (usually);
Looking at more shapes: their
Sounds, colors, weights, dimensions.

#1657 2-1-2007


Comments on writing a poem: To write a poem, one must travel, study art, music, movements, the eyes, and body language of the individual, the colors and shapes of the landscape, you must see the fire flicker, hear the sound of it, smell the smoke, feel the heat of the fire, to the flesh (all from memory); thus, now we are ready to write a poem: flesh, fire and flickers, make for a great beginning.



Great Poems

“If you can’t write go to the Zoo,
And look at the panther,” said
The painter to the poet—and
He did just that, and wrote a
Book called: “New Poems,”
In 1908; and matter-of-fact,
History now calls them
“Great Poems” at that.

#1657 2/1-2/2007


In these two poems and comments, Dennis tries to deliver a message I think, he is trying to say: use all you have to put into the poem. If you travel, use it, if you play music, add it...yes, look at what is around you, this is life, write about it. And if you can't find it, to write it, go looking for it. Rosa



29) Poems with: imaging… and
imagery

Softly Bends the Leaves

Softly bends the long thin—knifelike leaves
Through the curtains and glass
I can see—, Its green…

The Sun reflecting off its seams;
If I move the piano, just a tinge
I’d see the whole thing.

#1659 (2-2-2007)) Lima, Peru




God Told Me

God told me once,
“Dennis, you’re after my heart…”
“Oh!” I said (perhaps playing dumb)
“Is this not true?” He replied.
(I hesitated, not sure why)) Said :))
“Yes, this is true,” (I was no fool).

#1658 2-1-2007



Highways

We build highways where people go
No one seems to get off them
And so, no one really knows….

#1660 2/1-2/2007

Triggers

The Deepest thing in us is Memories,
which can, and will
find their way out, once triggered.

#1661


Rosa’s Newspaper

She turns the pages of the newspaper
Like a slap on a child’s wrist
(so it looks and so it sounds):
Trying to find the crossword puzzle…!

#1662 (Dedicated to my wife, Rosa Peñaloza de Siluk)


Commentary: Poetry’s Function (just a few words): I believe the nature of poetry, its function—for the most part, have attached meanings; in the physical world, it can be confusing, it is in fact about language, as it claims to be. For often it has no voice, theme or even recognizable form. We call this free Verse, which is the dominate form of Postmodernism; prior to this, we had of course, Modernism, where we reexamined what poetry is. The density of language and intensity of imaging… and imagery; put another way, mental images; and: descriptions, metaphors, similes. Language is a two-way street, embraced but unregulated for the most part.