Monday, October 3, 2011

Poets & Poems Part VII Crown of the Hill & The Demon in Poetry

POEM:

Crown of the Cerro (Unishcoto Ruins)

Up the *cerro to UnishcotoI followed the rocks,
They changed from shape to shape, but scarcely a breathe did I linger
I moved from stone to stone, some had human shapes, others looked like old bones.
I almost got lost in the gathering light,

Close by me my guide, my wifea feast of ruins resided on top
And sparse tress combed the area thereabouts;
A white and blue sky, which looked like
A wobbly sea was overhead

And then, then
There was the crown of the hill ahead
Unishcoto!

#1521 *Cerro=hill

Commentary:

Readers & Poets

The poet seeks words when he should be seeking matter, more concerned with choiceness of the verse, phrase or stanza than clean composition of the sentence, and the beauty that should be in the clauses. We need to weigh the matter and the worth of the subject (in the poem) more, and perhaps make better judgments as reade rs and poetslest we go back to the ignorant Stone Age.

Commentary:

The Demon in Poetry

The poet, he often lives in a soul that is tarnished from his past, he looks too long backwards, when he should be looking forward. He may have ripe passion, exaggerated feelings, sentiment, but that cannot pull him out of his morbid dreams, or the rubbish many feel compelled to write. He needs to select the treasures of the past, to enjoy the present (if only he could).

Most poets live at the pitch of frenzy, they leave the demon in the Poetry because it makes it more important. If he takes him out, he may have to abolish evil, and contend with life as it is.

See Dennis' web site: dennissiluk.tripod.com


Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Rognat and the Wankas: La Laguna de Paca on Venus Now in Spanish and English

The first man in space was to Rognats understanding, Carson Napier, a former British subject. He departed earth by way of a torpedo (of his won design), many years before his birth. He tried to reach Mars, but landed on Venus. This off course is all old news to those who knew of Mr. Napier. On Venus he discovered races primitively bestial, and advanced as well. Also there were giant beasts, as well as insects.

Save for Rognat landed on Venus, as well, he was in the process of trying to head onto another planet, similar to Napier in that respects; that is, after exploring the many planets and asteroids throughout a half dozen solar systems in and out of the Milky Way. He had met a female named Siren a while back (on his planet); thus, they had become comrades in this venture, as well as lovers; but things happened a few months prior and Sirenwell thats another story. Rognat was alone now, and Venus was in his telescope.

As middle aged man now, and perhaps saw mo re than Napier was during his time spent on Venus, was hoping he would not have to land, but rather just see the planet from a distance.

From his space craft he saw a hidden lake which was surrounded by mountainsHe called it White Mountain, because it looked similar to a place in Peru that resembled this new location on Venus, up by Huancayo. Actually this area was also hidden from the main population of Venus, kind of like a black lagoon.

The lake was well hidden; it was called by the inhabitants of this area, La Laguna de Paca.

When he landed on Venus, he was positive that he should never see his spacecraft again. Yet as you and I know, his fears, in the long run, were never realized. When he flew by Venus, its gravitational pull, drew him to its atmosphere, thus his course was to descend, and he was sent tumbling for the most part through Venus atmosphere, like a small asteroid. This was when he saw the strange Laguna, surrounded by the Nevadas of that area; enthralled he was, to say the least, yet this was not where he wished to be by far.

This said, he figured after landing, this time would allow him to repair his generator of sorts, which could transfer the solar suns energy into his machine, and created energy for his ship. Henceforward, out of the mysterious laguna was something else to come though.

The Wankas

[Huanca Wanka As he approached the laguna [lake he found a tribe of some earthly origin. As they saw him, pandemonium broke out. Loud cries and screams came from the tribe members; they were a tribe that had been brought their mysteriously some 1300-years prior to this visit, called the Wankas, out of Peru. They were still primitive, compared to Rognat. He knew of these natives from Peru, from the Mantaro Valley, they were a wild bunch in its day: warriors of a high status.

Rognat noticed they bore no real weapons to speak of, and when one of the thirty or forty warriors came to throw a knife at him, he shot one in the head, and thus, the rest stood stone-still, fists tight. Then one of the warriors was ready to shoot a rock at Rognat, via, some kind of waving sling shot, called a Honda, and Rognat aimed his pistol at him, this paralyzed him for the moment; his fear zoomed up and down his face, he put his weapon down along his thigh, still holding it. Nonetheless, Rognat kept himself at a safe distance. Then all of a sudden someone tripped him, tied a rope around one of his feet, and dragged him to the laguna, and tied a rock onto his back and cast him into the middle of the lake.

The Deep

With a quick glance into his new environmentdescending rapidly into the deep; thus he saw a pair of huge eyes, they drew up to him as he sank deeper. With all the strength he had left in him, and still sinking horribly, the beast of the deep, now a few feet from him looked like a giant squid with tusks of a mammal. Strange it may have been, but moreso, he wa s worried about his three minutes now in the water; he knew he could not last more than another minute. He broke loose of the rope around him, finely, and dropped the 200-pound stone they had placed on his back, pushing it to the front of him as both the beast and he sank together; the beast with his mouth open ready to eat this strange being in the water, was to be surprised. He turned to the beasts mouth, and clambered the big stone into it.

A moment later, he swam to the surface of the laguna; it was but a short distance to the top now. When he stepped out of the lake, the Wankas did not seize him; they ran like hell, thinking he was a demon.

Spanish Version Translated by Nancy Penaloza

Rognat y Wanka:

La Laguna de Paca sobre Venus

[El Lago sobre Venus

El primer hombre en el espacio era para el entendimiento de Rognat, Carson Napier, un antiguo sujeto britnico. l se march de la tierra por va de un torpedo (de un diseo ganado), muchos aos antes de su nacimiento. l trat de alcanzar Marte, pero aterriz sobre Venus. Esto por supuesto son todas viejas noticias para aquellos quienes saban del Sr. Napier. En Venus l descubri razas primitivamente bestiales, y avanzados tambin. Adems haba bestias gigantescas, as como insectos.

Salvo por Rognat que tambin aterriz sobre Venus, El estaba tratando de dirigirse a otro planeta, similar a Napier en ese respecto; es decir despus de la exploracin de muchos planetas y asteroides a travs de media docena de sistemas solares dentro y fuera de la Va Lctea. l haba encontrado a una fmina llamada Sirena, un tiempo atrs (en su planeta); as, ellos se haban hecho compaeros en esta aventura, as como amantes; pero las cosas pasaron unos meses previos y la Sirenabien esta es otra historia. Rognat estaba solo ahora, y Venus estaba en su telescopio.

Como un hombre de mediana edad ahora, y quizs vio ms que Napier, estuvo durante un tiempo permaneciendo en Venus , esperaba que l no tuviera que aterrizar, mas bien solamente ver el planeta desde una distancia lejana.

Desde su nave espacial l vio un lago ocultado que estaba rodeado por montaas - l lo llam la Montaa Blanca, porque esto pareca similar a un lugar en Per que se pareca a esta nueva ubicacin sobre Venus, ah por Huancayo. Actualmente esta rea tambin estuvo ocultada de la poblacin principal de Venus, parecido a una clase de laguna negra.

El lago estuvo bien ocultado; los habitantes de este lugar lo llamaron, La Laguna de Paca. Cuando l aterriz sobre Venus, l estaba consiente que l nunca podra ver su nave espacial otra vez. As como usted y yo sabemos, sus miedos, a la larga, nunca fueron realizados. Cuando l vol por Venus, su aura gravitacional, lo atrajo hacia su atmsfera, as su curso descendera, y l fue enviado cayendo principalmente a travs de muchas partes de la atmsfera de Venus, como un pequeo asteroide. As fue cuando l vio la extraa Lagu na, rodeado por los Nevados de aquella rea; cautivado estaba l, a decir lo menos, aunque esto no era donde l dese estar a lo mucho.

Esto fue lo que dijo, l imagin despus del aterrizaje, que este tiempo le permitira reparar su generador o una clase de esto, el cual podra transportar la energa solar hacia su maquina, y crear la energa para su nave. De ah en adelante, fuera de la misteriosa laguna, hubo algo ms por que venir, pienso.

Wanka

[Huanca Wanka Mientras l se acerc a la laguna [el lago l encontr una tribu de algn origen terrenal. As ellos lo vieron, y el desorden estall,. Gritos ruidosos y temibles vinieron desde los miembros de la tribu; ellos eran una tribu que haba sido trada misteriosamente unos de 1300 aos antes de esta visita, llamada los Wankas, del Per. Ellos eran todava primitivos, comparados a Rognat. l conoca a estos habitantes de Per, del Valle del Mantaro, ellos eran un manojo salvaje en la actualidad, los guerreros de un alto estado.

Rognat noto que ellos no llevaban ningn arma verdaderas de que hablar, y cuando uno de los treinta o cuarenta guerreros vino para lanzarle un cuchillo a l, l peg un tiro en la cabeza, y as, el resto permanecieron paralizados, puos apretados. Entonces uno de los guerreros estaba listo para disparar una roca a Rognat, va, alguna clase de tiro de gravitacin llamado Honda, y Rognat apunt con su pistola hacia el, esto lo paraliz por el momento; su miedo zumb arriba y abajo de su cara, l coloc su arma a lo largo de su muslo, todava sostenindolo. Sin embargo, Rognat se mantuvo a una distancia segura. Entonces de repente alguien tripped l, at una cuerda alrededor de uno de sus pies, y lo arrastr a la laguna, at una roca en su espalda y lo ech en el medio del lago.

Profundo

Con un vistazo rpido dentro de su nuevo medio ambiente; descendiendo rpidamente dentro de lo profundo, as l vio un par de enormes ojos, ellos levantaron hasta l mientras l se hunda en lo ms profundo. Con toda la fuerza que l haba dejado en l, y todava hundindose horriblemente, la bestia de la profundidad, ahora pocos metros de l parecido a un calamar gigantesco con los colmillos de un mamfero. Extrao puede haber sido, pero mas aun, l estuvo preocupado acerca de sus tres minutos ahora en el agua; l saba que l no podra durar ms que otro minuto. l se liber de la cuerda alrededor de l, suavemente, y dej caer la piedra de 200 libras que ellos haban colocado sobre su espalda, empujndolo al frente de l tanto como entre la bestia y se hundieron juntos; la bestia con su boca abierta listo para comer a este extrao ser en el agua, deba estar sorprendido. l gir la boca de la bestia, y paso por encima la piedra grande dentro de ello. Poco despus, l nad a la superficie de la laguna; estaba slo a una distancia corta hacia la cima ahora. Cuando l salio del lago, los Wankas no lo agarraron; ellos corrieron como del infierno , pensando que l era un demonio.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com see all Dennis' books for sale at http://www.abe.com or http://www.bn.com


Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Short Story
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Magic Is There Such A Thing?

If you ask most people this question, you'll probably get an answer something like, What, are you crazy? or just a plain simple No. And most people hearing either of these two answers would almost agree 100%. But does that mean there is no such thing as Magic?

That kind of depends on what your definition of Magic is. No, we're not going to play a game of double talk here. We're going to show a side of Magic that most people don't regard as Magic but as something else.

That side is referred to as metaphysical science. Of course there will be people who will insist that metaphysical science is nothing more than bunk in itself, but just as we have no proof that a living god either exists or doesn't exist, we really have no proof that metaphysical science has any validity or not.

For those who are not quite sure what metaphysical science is, it's the science of unknown things such as ghosts, UFOs, etc. In other words, just about anything that we don't have a definite answer for. Magic may or may not fall into the realm of metaphysical science depending on your personal beliefs. Certainly, a pe rson who believes in the existence of ghosts and UFOs, has more of a chance in believing in Magic than someone who only believes what he sees with his own two eyes.

For those of us who are totally grounded in reality, Magic is a trick. For example, pulling a rabbit out of an empty hat is accomplished by showing the false bottom of the hat. The rabbit is underneath this false bottom. At least that's what most people think. Other people think the rabbit is actually slipped into the hat from the Magician's sleeve or some loading device. The point is, there is some trick involved that is no more Magic than shooting Superman on TV and having bullets bounce off of him. It's all trick photography. And yet, there are those of use who truly do believe in Magic. We see tricks that are so amazing that we can't possibly imagine them being tricks. In our minds the only logical explanation for pulling off such feats is that real Magic, in some f orm, must exist and each Magician is tuned into a different element of the Magical world. That explains why most Magicians specialize in certain areas.

Certainly if you were a child and went to a Magic store to buy some tricks, once you brought them home and practiced them, you could see very clearly that these were indeed tricks and that there was no Magic involved. An example would be the Magical linking rings where one ring has a slit in it and that's how the rings link. No Magic, just a specially made ring.

But this fact doesn't mean that metaphysical science is bunk. It doesn't mean that ghosts or spirits don't exist. It doesn't mean that there aren't creatures from other planets. And it certainly doesn't mean that somewhere in this world there isn't one person who truly has Magical powers.

Magic. Is there such a thing?

We may never know.

Michael Russell Your Independent guide to Magic


Author:: Michael Russell
Keywords:: Magic
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Stockbridge Romance Chapter Three: The Bed

Behind my pillar where I was sitting, the woman from the wall was now standing lit another cigarette, it was hot and bright I thought. It sent a pale glary glow, an ash like pathway to the ceiling, streaming in front of my face, half-intended I thought. I had stopped smoking in 1984, smoked for 22-years, so what could I say, I had some years on her to catch up to me before I could scold her. There was a lull, then a scramble for words with her, Care, would you care to dancesir? she said.

In the last of the lull, on my part, I carried a silence, looking at my coke; her voice threw me off, an audible sincere tone. But she had been so cold to me this morning.

Even here, I thought as she stood behind me, she was trying to crush me with her casual idle, good and youthful looks and toned body. Well, she said.

No, I dont want to dance with you, so dont bother me anymore!

It was now 9:30 PM, and the first singer came up to sing, and started to sing, and t his lady remained behind me. She had a gray glimmer to her eyes; they looked cold, dejection, and lack of sleep.

Why, she asked, why will you not dance with me. I mean, you seem annoyed with me, as if I did something to you.

I turned up the uncorked anger in my mind, said in a narrow but benevolent jinn way: You insulted me on the wall today.

I did? she commented, How did I do that?

You said I was too slow, and you zoomed by me like you were some hot shot. She held back a laugh, See, I said, Youre laughing at me again!

But you were slow, and I was kind of teasing you I know, but it was meant as a maneuver to get to know you later, I thought you were handsome.

Oh(I hesitated) but I had a bypass just a few months ago, a heart attack, I cant climb or do all those things I used to do I suppose.

Ohooo, pardon me, Im so sorry. Then I thought: it would be pleasant to dance with her, to perhaps watch the night stars with someone beside mys elf, a good reason to start with a dance and see where it led, if a warm fire got goinggood, if a quite one so be it. With politeness I said, Id like that dance very much. She smiled a warm smile, loosening the atmosphere around us, then added, It would be pleasant. And we danced, matter-of-fact, we danced several dances, and then we went up to the karaoke machine and started singing, Are you Lonesome Tonight, an old Elvis song, and many of the folks like it in the bar area. And I went on to sing with her some more, her being my back up, Love Me Tender. As we continued to go to a third and forth song, I noticed she twisted about trying to see the words to the song, as they were big enough, and easily readable, it disengaged me from the songs for amount, Anything wrong? I asked. We had scarcely got over our first unpleasant moment, when she hit me with, Im ninety percent blind, I only have side vision (peripheral vision).

Now I was feeling a little shame, as if I had no blood in my face. I think this was not self-satisfying for her, but it had to come out, and this was a good place for it.

Well how did you know what I looked like on the wall? I asked.

I turned my head to the right, and caught your face from the narrow part of the side of my eye, and you looked good.

She flattered me, and it felt good, I had been divorced, and she had also, we both confirmed that sitting up at the karaoke machine trying to figure out what song to sing next, when someone said, You going to sing, if not I will! With local etiquette we both stepped down from the platform and went over to my table, she had picked up her sweater on the way.

We sat down and talked until midnight about birds and the stone wall, and her being a teacher at one time before she became blind some seven years prior, and me a counselor, and the more we talked the more personal we became. Within these few moments we were lovers it seemed like. An affair had com e; we had physical attraction and good spirits, jokes, and lots of listening skills to offer one another; it all seemed too perfect. But even if nothing would manifest out of this love affair to be, this intelligent circumstances, we would have company while in Beijing, and that would be worth it, so I thought, when she said: Would you like to come to my room?

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com


Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Chapter Story
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A Religious Radio Program Even Atheists Can Like

You're driving in your car late at night, trying to find something interesting on your Radio to keep you awake. As you skip past songs you've heard too many times already, and past the grating talk-show ranters, something catches your ear: an old-style Radio Drama. The story line, acting and sound effects engage you, and only after some time do you realize you're listening to a religious program.

The show is Unshackled!, a Dramatic program with the flavor of Radio from long ago, and with production values calculated to draw in even those listeners who are not particularly religious.

Unshackled! presents what it says are real-life stories, based on real people. The plots vary widely from one show to the next, but most revolve around some gut-wrenching personal crisis that is resolved only when the central character becomes a Christian. If that does not sound like particularly compelling Radio, then you've probably never heard an Unshackled! broadcast.

T he show is produced by Pacific Garden Mission in Chicago. Begun in 1950, it is claimed to be the longest-running Radio Drama in history. It incorporates professional actors, original music, creative sound effects and other elements to re-create the style of shows from Radio's golden age. It is good enough to have won several awards over the years.

Unshackled! is currently broadcast on 1,550 Radio stations. Just search for Unshackled! or for Pacific Garden Mission to find a list of stations and a broadcast schedule. Also, many of the shows have been archived for listening via the program's own Web site.

Stefan Smith is a Radio junkie who writes on entertainment and related subjects for the Solid Gold Info Writers Consortium. Recently, he has written an extensive review of amazing new softw are anyone can use to capture music audio streams from Internet Radio broadcasts and break them up into individual mp3 song files--a legal way to download virtually free music. Read the review at: http://www.solid-gold.info/Radio2mp3.html


Author:: Stefan Smith
Keywords:: Unshackled,Radio,Drama,Play,Religion,Broadcasting,Chicago
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Sunday, October 2, 2011

Portrait of a Connoisseur In Lima Peru

[May 14, 2006 Warmness folded down upon Lima, Peru two months later, bringing May and the new election for a president, fluttering along Miraflores Park. It brought, also, a sense of strain to the city, and unsuppressed excitement. Every morning there were international news on this election; dozens of protesters proclaiming their concerns on the television, on the streets, on the radio, and many with their own specific willingness to bear their souls. Layers and layers of folks proclaiming this and that for their candidates throughout every village and town in Peru, they had a tremendous undaunted selection of candidates for president, but ended up now with two: one being a robber they proclaimed, the other a killer also proclaimed by the good citizens of Peru: and both worthy of such reputations I heard [the Killer being in a pre-trial status. The peasantry loved the killer and the business folk loved the robber: so history shall record. Each candidate offering as mu ch as possible, or believable, to everyone: young ladies, family, acquaintances, college boys from Lima to Huancayo, the old, peasants, rich: everyone.

And, naturally, the city caught the contagious air of entre [reception Everyone paid little attention to the pickpockets, and perhaps their chances were increased with this entire inefficient carnival crowd. South America was now in the news; President Alejandro Toledo, made his presentation in Vienna, and told Hugo Chavez (President Hugo Chavez of Venezuela) where to go, and a few words for President Evo Morales: a friendly crowd indeed. Everyone got on the bandwagon throwing dirt here and there during the early stages of this election.

Alan Garcias wife (Alan Garcia being once President of Peru) was now smiling on TV, it seemed to be a task a month earlier, but her husband was going into the second round now; and Ollanta Humalas wife was telling Hugo Chavez to shut up, youre not doing our campaign any good: so mething like that. And I walked quietly down to El Parquetito and had my lunch during all of this. Walking along the park in the afternoons by the Monkey Man, and his aging monkey, and Victor the Photographer, who has been taking pictures in that very park for some forty-years.

Now being Mid-May, it was getting [is getting colder each day, and the sun comes out slowly, and usually at first with a definitely cold mist, got to wear those knee-length sheep-lined socks, being from the Midwest, it does not look too fashionable, but I give it my approval. I wear my soft hat, discreet dark brown, another gray.

The Monkey Man always enthusiastically involved with Ms monkey, and on the weekends the painters put their paintings on the road by the park (as they had done today), Chusty today did a free painting for me, playfulness, is what he painted, in a playful manner, and gave me one of those inevitable hand-shakes. His hands cold as the devil, people freeze easily h ere in Lima, I think. Many folk here fight bronchitis/pneumonia this time of year, the mist gets into their lungs, Lima being next to the ocean; darned weather.

On another note, I must say, I love Lima, and Huancayo, but the beggars drive me crazy in Lima (Miraflores), they are characters here though, they borrow or loan babies, and walk around with their hands out for coins, casuallyyou know, just as though I were waiting for them to take my extra money: such a burden to carry on my ownmany have no blood in the face, and if I give them a coin, they ask for a second coin, the next day, and the next and the next daythus, Ive learned the Peruvian philosophy: give them a hand, and they will take your arm (something like that: but of course not everyone).

These beggars walk briskly around the park here, lots of effort and exercise in their line of work, if only they could direct it into working in a more reliable, respectable job. It kind of goes like this, I say:

Get a job, I tell them, after giving them a few coins.

Nowhere is job, they tell me.

Well, then whats the use? and I walk away.

They stand staring at me, then at each other; they have a team I think, they go to sit over by the Haiti Restaurant, and joke and laugh, and then they put on the sad face, and almost cry, and if you could give out awards for acting, theyd be first in my line.

I learned I cant hide in this society of dark hair, dark eyes, bronze skinned people: Im as white as a ghost, my eyes as blue as the sea, with a tint of green. I have to hide when the Taxi man stops to pick up my wife and me to drive us home: it is only 7-soles to our house, but once they see me, it is 20-soles; the gringo gets to them: they think 7-soles are pennies for me, how uncouth can you be, but I suppose America gives off that aroma. After they see me, after a moment, they open the door. I dont blame them, get it while you can, it is how most live here, n ot forecasting, but rather, surviving a day at a time. And most are good hardworking folks, but you got this young healthy crowd of beggars that figure if I ask 100-people, 10-will give me a sol or two, and if I ask 1000-Ill make more money than working, so why work. The odds end up in their favor, Im sure they are hoping the planes do not stop landing at the airport with new tourists.

They like to talk, the Peruvians, I suppose I do in a way also, but apologetically, I must say, I usually do my thinking while reading, or writing, I mean, when Im sitting down drinking coffee, I dont ponder so much or talk; or in a cab have ongoing conversations of my lifes story (they often ask: Where you from? they ask my wife, because they cant speak English, and they know Im not Spanish, or Peruvian, and I answer in Spanish, and they give me a double look). They do in a way, politely encourage this, thus, I can hear now and then grunts for me to talk, but my wife has that magic lant ern and talks for me.

Slowly, I walk down and around the Park in Miraflores, watch the lit cigarettes smoke flow in the air, blow with the wind as I breathe into the air.

Lets go to the movies, my little lovely wife says, no, lets go to Ripley and buyno lets go to see Juan down at the Favorite Caf we usually end up at one of those locations.

She is sleeping now, it is 11:13 PM, and we had an enthusiastic day, I must say.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com


Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Article
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Old Josh: Goes Fishing Ozark Alabama 1864/Chapter Episode Five

Old Josh lived on the Hightower Plantation where chores were unlimited and entertainment had to be manufactured by it self, or by those who wanted it. He: Josh was a sharecropper when he was young, back in his 80s; he also fed the pigs, milked cows, churning milk into butter; his son now went about husking corn. I suppose in a if you wanted fun, you had to find it, especially in those far off days in Alabama.

His sister was raised like him, on the land Hightower owned; his wife died there and his two sons were raised there.

Today his job was to wring necks, chicken necks. He didnt mind doing it, not a bad job, this was during the days of the civil war, 1863-64, when freedom for the salves were being churned just like the butter. Most of what old Josh lived on was bacon, cornbread and lots of cabbage, and a slice of chicken now and then.

His sons Silas and Toby were both men now, and tried for the most part to keep old Josh in some kind of peaceful mood, he was or could be quite disruptive.

Old granny fixed the food for the Hightower boys, shed ring the bell and the hot biscuits and honeycombed chicken would be ready; old Josh would go down to the creek then and fish, catch those catfish, and a squirrel, and cook them up, and make funny sounds like: ding ring, ding-a-ring, pretending he was calling the Hightower boys for their meals. Oh he didnt hate the boys, or even the Hightowers, he was just a ting resentful, and so when it was working time, hed go fishing often to spite them in his silent way.

He was today, at the creek fishing, talking to himself, and doing his little bell play. The backwoods was his getaway. Today Silas was looking for him, and found him fishing, a string on his big toe, and two fish cooking, laying back on a rock with his jacket under his neck.

I ain known Look like he wants to git out er draggin dis here string all the ways down the Mississ-ippy. Woops-he gon, he guh see him kin l ike me I suppose. Who wid him? (he looked deep into the waters)

(Yes the fish escaped, and Silas was looking down on him, and old Josh knew, thats why he was talking the was he was of course; he had looked for him back at the barn, saying, Ain nobody wid him he left here by his self. And he got worried about his papa, and went looking.)

(Silas) I sho aint loves to wander round des here woods by my lonesome, You aint token nothing to eat wid ya!

(Josh) I recken dte old fish must er had some kind er trouble

(Silas approaches his father closer, helps him up, takes him on back to his shack)

(Silas) Yous sho looks like you loves to fish deese here creek by you self.

(It soon would be twilight)

Note: Episode Five 8/2005/Revised 11/2005

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com You can see Dennis' books at http://www.Alibris.com or http://www.abe.com


Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Episode story
Post by < a href='http://www.computer4u.in.th'>History of the Computer | Computer safety tips