Disappeared (Poetic Prose)

Disappeared
(Poetic Prose)


Part I
The Gratitude


I thought how good a student I was in the past, not sure anymore;
I’ve liked money and material things, in my life, perhaps too much
to a certain degree, that is, I have thrown them to the wind, also.
I believe in an afterlife, God, and all those things (Jesus).
I am a saved person, from the grips of Hell, I believe, but wonder
at times, how scattered are my sins? (Afraid God will see too many).
I am a little famous, not much, and my writings have done mankind
some good, not sure how greatly.
I feel lazy, and lucky, in my old age, that I don’t have to sell brooms
walking around my neighborhood, in Lima, Peru.
And that I don’t have to live in a hut, along the Rimac Rio; nor that I
have to sell cigarettes and telephone cards on street corners.
I can eat at the cafes almost any days…! In all, I’ve learned, it will
not be me, who changes the world, although a noble ambition; so
enjoy it while you can, but don’t hurt anyone in the process.
I even got a bald spot in the back of my head, now at sixty-years old;
it’s a telegram, I believe, telling everybody the comic truth of life,
Dennis L. Siluk is getting old, aging, not a bad thing, I’m surprised
I made it this far in life; and I am thankful for my glasses, my books,
my homes in Peru, my wife, the chicken farmers, and the sound
of the cows, I like steak (beef steak); and sleep, a God given gift.


Part II
The Dream


I dreamt last night, a friend and I (not ever seeing the face of the friend),
walked around a lake (I think we were in Minnesota), and we talked,
talked on how we might be, could be, better husbands, there was
apprehension in his eyes, I didn’t see his eyes, I felt them. And so, we
both decided to bring this bit of information up to our wives, and we
did just that; he to his wife, me to my wife (the following day).
Meeting the day after, to compare notes, on how our wives
responded to our declaration (not that we were bad husbands in
the beginning for we were to the contrary, good husbands).
Hence forward, he explained to me: I lost my wife in telling her this.
He was dumfounded, how could this be, he simply wanted to be a
better husband, not lose a wife in the process, he was hurt.
My general thoughts were, he lived in a poor kingdom, and thus, I
shifted my pillow back and forth, in hopes to fall back to sleep, and try to change my dream, to have it come out right for my friend; I think
I actually was inquiring in my mind on how to change things, trying
to backtrack, you could say, but I had already lived the dream (?) for there was, no going back. So I sat upon the edge of my bed, upright,
and asked myself: what did you learn from this dream?


Part III
The Message


Had he not (my friend) asked his wife what he asked her, he
would have lived in her secret, unknowing her pulse, in
the marriage, the one she did not want (some folks are
willing of course to live in a dead marriage; life beyond being
too fearful, thus for the sake of it they remain in it).
Through this awakening his wife crawled out from under her
pretense, it was now all out in the open, on the table.
The second question I asked myself was: how long could such a
marriage be sustained? (for me my wife had responded positively,
and I was as happy as a bear with a pool of honey under my feet.
With that same question came: how many more years would have been
fritter away, had he not asked this question? Five, six or seven?
To her perhaps, she was in jail, and the next step for her was to live
a life of immorality, or bury pretense, and face truth. Maybe
they both received a gift, a second chance before the grave.


Part IV
New World in the Making


My old world doesn’t exist anymore; a highway has been build over it,
a parking lot is where our old house use to be—everything
has changed, but the names remain the same, of the streets.
Even the old steel mill has gone, with the old ma and pa, grocery
stories; the train tracks are rusting, everything disappearing,
everything, and, soon me!

#2286/2-26-2008