Dennis L. Siluk

Note: It is not news; it is old history, the poem above.  If it is too atrocious to read, don’t read it, we all watched it on the internet, and T.V., and radio, and did nothing about it, like in Cambodia with Pol Pot, until it was too late, after he killed.

Note: Around the world everyday we see war, and people trying to make peace, a silly combination.  Take any day, and look at its contradictions of peace for war, or war if not peace, watch the hypocrites in motion, in Iraq, we fight for peace with war, in...

Dr. Adelmo and Professor Jesus Vega, were two retired scientists in the Mantaro Valley of Peru, surrounded by the Andes, they lived perhaps fifty years ago. They had both heard a of legend in the mines of the Andes, that the little people known as the Amuc, had water that came from the Giants of Old.

Here are more poems from Dennis Siluk, who was just awarded, "The Poewta and writer of the year 2006, for cultural and customes and tradition of the Mantaro Valley of Peru.  These are his new poems for his next book.

I’ve received some negative email on my article concerning the robber’s of Buenos Aires, one in particular, the writer feels I was too hard on the robbers, and his city, and his country, by notifying the people his city is dangerous. Then he goes on to say, I should learn how to speak Spanish if I’m going to visit a Spanish speaking country, evidently, this is the only article he has read of mine, since I have written 1200 for one Internet site alone.

The Author’s first story of Arizona Blue in over eleven-months
(Arizona Blue stores are on over 226-internet sites)

We got a problem, and when I say we, I do not necessarily mean Government, because the Government is half the problem.  Let me explain, without trying to create anarchy, which is not good for any state or country.  I am talking about a militia problem

I just returned from Buenos Aires, Argentina, and it is getting worse by the minute.  When you have a good thing, everyone thinks it will remain that way by momentum in Buenos Aires, it never does.  I am writing this article for a few reasons:

Every city has it extraordinary, if not unusual institutions created out of its own needs, necessities; and Lima, Peru is no different, it has its brazier population, and to a stranger, like me, now not so much so, but several years ago, it was most peculiar:

All the gun control people are going to run on this one I suppose, let it rest, I do not see any room for an argument here. A non American shot a lot of people perhaps with two guns; guns he got legally, and had he not got them, the old story goes, he would have anyhow.

After I finished my BA degree, many, many years ago, I started working on my MA, in counseling, psychology, drugs and alcohol, etc., a combination—then I stopped for a period of time, not really knowing what I wanted to do, so I studied theology, read 400-books in 18-months, listened to over 10,000-hours of tapes from every corner of Christendom, Christology—through theology, even went to Haiti, up in the mountains to do some missionary work, only to find out I was not meant to be a missionary, or priest, or clergy, although I did go to a theological university for six months, and studied Old Testament Studies, along with several other courses.

The last day at Fort Bragg, Smiley was by me, we got on the bus together to go to the airport, and for once, they (the Drill Sergeants) were respectable gentlemen whom expected to see better days, now that we were going,

I had gone to the beer hall this first Saturday evening after returning to Basic Training Camp, from Christmas leave. The Captain was there, I had heard he showed up now and then, but not often, and this was perhaps my third time in the beer hall myself, I preferred the EM Club to the hall, more sedate.

In the barracks it was chilly. The Drill Sergeants smell worst. I knew my smell. Why be polite, it was long days in back of me and in front, long days running, and today I had to run around a field three times, two miles each lap, six miles complete, in some specified time, can’t remember it exactly. I took a number of salt tablets as I ran; some of the men were eating chocolate, to keep their energy up. I quickly learned running was part of the Army, like white on rice.

(It is always the sound of the bugle that awakens one in the morning, called reveille, in the Army, the sound to make formation that begins the day, a signal that it is time to get out of bed, summoned to duty. And all one sees in the morning, as one prepares for the second day of duty is shapes and outlines of military personnel in a camp; or so it was for me.)

When we arrived at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, Basic Training, Camp, the Fall of ’69, we were greeted (we, being, a number of us who had come from the Minneapolis, Minnesota’s Army Recruiting Station, now coming off the bus)

Advance: A historical meeting, it can be called between renowned historian, Maria Rostworowski (de Diez Canseco), of Lima, Peru, and Dennis L. Siluk, Poet and novelist (who lives part time in Peru, and part time in his home state of Minnesota, USA); Maria has a half-century of cultivating Peru’s historical past, and a world wide audience with her countless books on its cultures, traditions, and historical data; a few books translated from the Spanish into English (i.e., “History of the Inca Realm”).

I know, here we go again; this is one of those ongoing subjects (Evolution), that no one seems to be able to put to rest.  In college I took up Anthropology so I could study this area somewhat, and ended up shifting to psychology, perhaps because I got too much of a dose of the Evolutionist’ point of view.

Assuming I am still sane, and was sane at the time this took place, I shall try to explain to you, what had taken place, which has not befallen any man to my knowledge in quite the same way, ever.

In today’s world, the sword has one point, only, and no sharp sides, the symbol is of course force, or power, or money, it is all in one. There also is a hidden force inside that tip, this point I’m talking about...

I wrote a book a number of years ago, called, “Islam, In Search of Satan’s Rib,” it did quite well, and it talked about: before you judge Islam, you got to know their mind, and to know their mind; you got to know their God. And so in the process of the book, we look for the Islamic God, the Muslims’ mind in essence is tied up in such a wrapping; likewise in the following case.

I have been in Egypt, and I am not surprised with their on going fear and pressure they try to put on their citizens. We are dealing with the Middle East, where they have been for as long as I’ve been around pulling their citizens by the nose, and telling them when to, and what to do. They are used to that. I’m surprised the young blogger is still alive (Abdel Karim Suleiman, a 22-year-old who went against the system on the internet).

Cold eyed, she stood, blood burning, lurking at death
with death at hand—unweaving, she watched in silence
muffled, nerves dying, dim went his vision, then grief!
(She thought: he might find peace…!)
Passion had bleached out long ago, while living…!

“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

Here are a few poems I wrote today, in the process of writing them, I wanted to give them all one common name, because it all came out in one long afternoon chain of thoughts (so I named them: “Tender Riffs”), as I sat under the sun, my coffee in hand, and eggs and steak nearby, at my favorite outdoor restaurant, in Lima, and the waitress (Sarah, brought my food, said “Mr. Siluk…”

Most folks that write have never experience what they write; I have in most everything I’ve ever written, experienced it first, in one way or another. Here are the Top Ten Most Unique Cites of the world. When somebody writes about something, they got to know where they are coming from, because the writer is always biased.

When I was a kid, and that was long ago, life was simple, there was no fighting in educational establishments over how man was created.  Now we go on forever trying to prove one mans concept, or should I say, faith, or belief, since it has not been proven, which is none other than Saint Darwin, and his ever lasting theory of Evolution, why everyone is stuck on, which is beyond me. Kansas seems to be leading the fight for God or a Higher Power, being responsible for life (or was, and is no more).

I’m not sure why, how and when the UN came up with a policy to not kill, killers, or to save killers, or to preserve them for posterity in prison cells, but it is a bad policy. And so thinks the Iraqi government, or legal process:“Iraq's High Tribunal has sentenced Saddam Hussein's former vice-president Taha Yassin Ramadan to be hanged. He was tried alongside the former Iraqi leader over the killing of 148 Shias in the village of Dujail in the 1980s.”

Call it what you want, but at the end of the tunnel, it is pure blackmail, and no true American can be proud of such a fate. Yes, I say fate, because what comes out of blackmail is more blackmail. The US government condemns its citizens for such criminal activity, and disregards it internationally, and who picks up the tab? Every American Tax payer is going to be blackmailed, legally, and internationally. So you say: what else can we do?

Where there is smoke, assume there is fire, or get burnt when it reaches you.  The president of Iran said several times it wants to crush Israel, and it sent a missile over the Persian Gulf, over head of an American Ship recently, now that they got the attention of the UN, EU, China and Russia, and Israel, their spokesman said, it is for a peaceful mission, for fuel, when they got a horde of oil in their backyard.

I think Iran got a taste of their own medicine, and they don’t like it. They think they can kill Americans and Iraqis at free will, disrupt Israel through Syria and Lebanon, send military snipers over to Iraqi, and be immune to terrorism itself, when it is part of the lot. It’s about time they get payback. Iranian President said the abductors “…acted under U.S. supervision."

All men who live by war, present
A kind of hawk-like appearance
(as well as, a steadfast stance).
His, whose body showed strength,
Combined with endurance
Smooth shaven, features being more of
The sun, than of nature—
He was the Wanka Warrior.

Bin: "Not sure if I like it down here, it’s getting a little hairy…especially Bagdad." Muhammad: "Harry is a Midwestern term, an infidels way of saying, 'bad,' and we don’t use that word, ok Bin, I mean, I thought we saw eye to eye, I’m wondering?" Bin: "Sorry, old fellow, too much of that cave TV carp, you know, Americanism, it’s everywhere."

When you come to visit the Mantaro Valley, just beyond the huge mountains called the Andes, you will enter a Valley unequaled on earth, and again, I must say, you will be surrounded by the second largest mountains in the world, the Andes, although they are not the huge ones, perhaps only 2000-feet tall, but you are 10,500-feet high already, thus, you are 12000-feet above sea-level.

Written while in El Tambo, Huancayo, at the El Caserio Café (1556 ((12-3-06)); dedicated to Joseito Arrieta, and his son Rey Enrique, whom had breakfast with my wife and I, and provided me with the background of the drink, Chicha; although I’ve had it twice myself.

(11-30-06)) 1554 & 1557)) Dedicated to Mauro Rosales and Karina Rojas, who live in Cajas; for they took me on a Saturday morning and afternoon into its wonderous hillsides, in November of 2006; took me I say, treking the mountain side (Puna Mountain, as they called it); we explored the Inca Road and old Wanka prison cells, along with the geological landscape.

Saddam tried to rebuild Ancient Babylon, before that he tried to rule the land with an iron hand. There are reasons for all this, just as there are reasons beyond the front-page news, why we are still there, Americans. Historically, and geographically, this is a strategic point in the world.

In the Mantaro Valley, beyond the Andes of Peru, it is one continues fest you might say, but close to Christmas, it is more so, as I suppose is every place in the world. Here you have many children graduating from school, and many chocolates parties going on (of which I was invited to one a few days ago in the little city called Cajas, at the Independence School there), to celebrate Christ's Birthday. It is an endless celebration. The Cathedearl is lit up like a Christmas Tree, and the city is buzzing.

Forgetfulness, drowsy
Are my days-?
(Not all, but many)
Heart, like a burning tower
Mind, a labyrinth of voices
I feel like I'm made of:
Rust and red-iron-.

Today the world was told Fidel Castro has terminal cancer. I don’t wish anyone bad luck not even him, and you can’t get much worse luck than that, but I think the old dictator has had his share of good luck these past 45-years (plus), with the whores he brings through the backdoors of his palace, as I was told by the many folks who watched his palace when I was in Havana, watched them come and go (horde his money also). Perhaps they are liars, but it would seem they got no more to lose than gain by telling me a fib. Alas, he will not be returning back to power I would guess that may be a relief for the country he has put under his heal. In addition, he has won a few victories; he can talk about in the hereafter.