Stars over Germany (Selected German Poetry; reedited: 4-2010)

Stars over Germany
[Selected Unpublished German Poetry]

by Dennis L. Siluk, Ed.D.


The Tower at of Babenhausen



Advance: I spent perhaps four years of my life in West Germany, and saw many castles, up and down the Rhine and Mosel Rivers (and Valley’s), to mention a few locations. There are perhaps 20,000 castles, palaces and ruins in West Germany alone. The History of Germany goes back to the time of Caesar, the conqueror of Gaul, when the Roman Empire was being expanded: Augsburg perhaps is one of the oldest cities in West Germany, dating back to somewhere around 58 BC. In the Middle Ages (450 to 1450 AD) and the Dark ages creeping out of these, around the 10th century, we see such towers like the Dieburg Tower in Dieburg, throughout Germany per se; I lived across the street from the Dieburg Tower and wrote the book, “Cold Kindness,” which involves the ancient tower.
Here are a few poems I did on Germany, the only other poem or poems I did are in the first book I wrote in 1981, “The Other Door.” It was a golden time for me during those early years in the ‘70sº.



Stars over Germany

Long I watched your stars reach
From east to west;
Now—enmeshed in a day
From darkness comes light!
Your wings became one—

Come! The ancient flames wait.
Once exiled—now exulted:
All is now one (Germany!...)

#1176 2/6/2006



Note: Perhaps this poem is long overdue, but one can only write poetry when it is ripe to write. Germany remains precious within my being, I lived there for four and half years, in the early 1970s; it is a most wondrous and beautiful land, with a medieval delightful touch. I am very proud they found a way to unite east and west, to become one Germany.




Octoberfest—1970


O Munich, Munich! Evermore—
to see the dancing on wooden floors
in Oktoberfest tents once more—
and hear the bronze horns echo,
and taste your flavoured birch beer.
All is pleasing to thy heart and ear!
Now but cast in a dream, yet it seems,
so it seems, I’ve lived it endlessly…!



Note: I attended the 1970 Oktoberfest in Germany, it was perhaps one of the few highlights of my first visit in Germany, of which was for ten-months, my second visit was 44-months.



The Black Forest
[Bavaria’s deep]


The Black Forest,’ of Bavaria:
wherein the beauty of its deep
resides no sunlit tender skies,
no beams of light within its wintry gleam
there is nothing penetrating, but white
here, but here is where beauty lies.



In the 1970, I went one wintry day into the deep of the Black Forest, with a few friends—whom got stuck with their VW (several times) and we all felt lucky we made it out and back to Augsburg , with no frozen parts to our bodies. #1177 2/6/06




The Old Roman Wall
(In Augsburg, Germany)

In Augsburg there’s an old Roman wall of stone
opened to the sky’s sapphire blue—; homeless looking
is this old ruin: soundless, secretive it stands,
unmovable under the sombre sun:
no doors, no locks, just mortar and rock
perhaps, — with a cryptic past…unceasingly
I cannot answer why, but it’s sublime.


#1181 2/7/2006 (Revised and Reedited, 6/2007) to my understanding it was built around 50 BC or so



A Lazy Day in Augsburg
[West Germany—1970]


Against a big oak tree I rested
A lazy day in Augsburg I guess
No work and no place to really go:
The sun is warm, seems jealous also
But I got no protest—
Just weaves of golden sun beams
Upon my brow and chest…!
And I’m thankful for that.



Notes: looking at an old pictures I had taken of myself during that summer of 1970, here I was resting against an old tree, and I remember the day quite well, it was a lazy day indeed, and I was but 22-years old, and life was so simple. I spent much time in Augsburg, Germany, as an American Soldier, in 1970, rambling about when I got free time, and I remember this moment so well. Written 2/2006 revised and reedited 6/2007. #1178

Note: Of the original nine-poems written for “Stars over Germany,” here are four that have been revised and reedited, 6-8-2007. I feel with more sensitivity; originally written 2/2006.



Awakening along the Mosel
(Along the banks of the river in the Mosel Valley, 1976)


There’s a stirring, an awakening,
walking along the banks of the Mosel;
and high above its surrounding hills
are ancient orchards fresh and mild
—castles with a valley breeze!

Wondrous views seldom seen...!



Note: among the many places I have visited during my two stays in Germany, the Mosel Valley, its river and castles were among the greatest highlights. It is seldom a poet can go back to the moment to capture the event. It took me 30-years to write the 12-poems I did on Vietnam, and when I wrote them, it was in less than a week. Here again, is that magical moment in my poem on Germany’s Mosel Valley, 36-years ago. (Revised, reedited 6/2007))Originally written, 2/2006))






Limerick for: Cochem,
(Along the Slopes of the Mosel)


Cochem commands the Mosel´s steep slopes
Formed by volcanic upheavals, long ago
Here the towering Reichsburg Castle bows
Bows to the Valley River below
Bows to its mighty volcanic slopes…!



Note: This is the new poem (No: 1872; written, 6/9/2007) The Reichsburg Castle at Cochem, sits on top of a hill, looking town upon the Mosel River. I remember it quite well; my son Cody along with his twin brother Shawn back then, but three years old each, chased a big goose and it turned on Cody and seemingly stunned him for a moment. as Shawn looked on. The slopes are believed to have been formed by volcanic upheavals, in the far past. It is a most beautiful place. In the middle ages, the builders of many of these castles used animal blood and hair as a mixture to reinforce the mortar used in the cement and plaster; thus, the result is, they lasted.


Heidelberg Castle
((Fortress on the Hill) (1975))


It was marvellous in all senses
To have walked on those ancient stones
And now to carry memories of this marvel
That cast light on me so long ago…,

I recall, standing tall in its ancient courtyard
(insignificant things happening at the time);
Wandering through its medieval laboratory;
A painting depicting terror and confusion;
An old 16,000-gallon wine cask…in the cellar;
Its destruction! Walls and halls battered.

It was marvellous in all senses
To have walked on those ancient stones
And to have carried those memories back
(to now, so many, many years ago).



Notes by the author: I visited Heidelberg Castle one afternoon, in 1975, this 13th century castle, with 16th century buildings here and there, with my twin boys Shawn and Cody. I stayed for what was called the ‘Illumination,’ where they light up the castle, and had fireworks, a most inspiring event. In its ancient, and most gracious looking courtyard I relaxed and took the day in, my son Cody and Shawn at that time was with me (about three-plus years old),they were running here and there; thank God I was young); it has a slope, or walkway, or rampart, to its top, a long walk it now seems, as I look back, perhaps because I had to carry each of the boys up that long ramp. #1182 2/7/2006 Revised and Reedited 6/2007




Slant Rhyme, for:
Aschaffenburg´s Gem

Johannesburg Castle—the Pink Palace
Down around the River Main:
Pink-sandstone, king size courtyard
Simply majestic, Aschaffenburg´s gem!



Note: I lived eight-miles from this beautiful West German castle, 13th century, made of pink sandstone, in the city of Aschaffenburg of which on the weekends I’d take my son two sons Cody and Shawn to see the castle (once we went inside of it); other times we would just park the car, walk around it, they’d play in the parking lot, and I’d look at its beauty. And when we’d drive off, we both kind of looked back at the Castle, myself through the mirror, Shawn and Cody through the back window, we could still see its pinkish colour in his mirrors, fading as we drove back to Babenhausen where we lived. #1184 2/7/06 (revised and reedited 6/2007).


Wuerzburg´s Baroque
(West Germany, 1974/´76)


Wuerzburg, a legacy of palaces
And structures remain: houses,
Buildings, bridges and churches—of,
By gone days…and a Fortress
Looming above the city! (Marienburg)



Note: From 1974-1976 I travelled a lot in West Germany, France, Switzerland, Belgium and Luxemburg; especially witnessing its many castles and rivers. A vineyard surrounding the hilltop reaches back some 3,000 years in history. #1183 2/7/06. In June they have the Wuerzburg Mozart Festival. (Revised and reedited 6/2007)





Polirritmo of the:
German Winter Shower
((A memo of 1970, in Augsburg Germany) (multi rhythm poem))


I have an arch-enemy here in the barracks
it tries to eat me, slowly, it works on the mind
it has one big eye, looks down upon me like God
in this case perhaps the devil…
it lives to be my thorn,
I know this as plain as the nose on my face.

I slant to my sides, right and left
the water is running, running in one spot
warm, barely hot, can’t seem to get enough of it
old showers, rusted old showers, half thrust
weak power push, as if someone’s sucking it all out
before I get it, leaves me only enough to wish I had more.
I wonder how the Nazis contended with this.

Slap my face, slap my face, the chill of the air seeps
seeps through the windows…cold breeze on my feet
(the blood in my veins not yet circulating)
old and worn showers, my face is hot
my torso cold, my feet hot my face cold
my belly warm, my arms cold…can’t have it all;
the top of my head is chilled; cars car-tires I hear
outside alongside, flanking I think, the building,
the barracks…horns, it is just first light…
a pale form, from the window (dribbling on my head)
my steel chrome teeth are shuttering, I hear them
like a galloping race horse.
I wonder how the Nazis contended with it.

Cold as a cat’s meow running from a mouse
down this old World War Two Hallway
quivering and dodging the green saggy walls
trying to get to my room to warm up
before formation, before the brass horn sounds
(to salute the flag, run around the buildings
as of my heart wouldn’t be pumped up already)
my heart humming like a purring car engine
my eyes flashing like windshield wipers bobbing
the barracks is like a beehive—full of unthawing life!
Like fish half frozen, coming back to life, snapping
flapping their flippers, jumping to kick-start their hearts!
This winter’s cold stretches my neck veins,
my internal guts, like pumping pistons,
where’s my, my—blanket? (a question to the mind
the big eye doesn’t like);
slowly, slowly I coil it around me like a cocoon!
I wonder how the Nazis contented with this!

Up, down, up down, up down…
I feel like a clown jumping like this
as if I was a confused bullet…:
plunged heart into the pumping, pumping!
I stop, I have to come down…
Bodies walking by, down the hallway—
slow down I say, down, down, down...
They already got their engines started
perhaps didn’t take a shower…?
Breathing better, reflexes not sputtering,
motor functions operating,
everything’s back to normal…liberty!
my body’s inflamed with heat again,
a spirit filled heat;
the eye didn’t get me today, no not yet.
I’ll never get used to these winter showers! Never!
I wonder how the Nazis contented with it!



No: 1925 8-2-2008. Moving and condensed poetry, poetry that captures the movement and spirit of the theme is seldom done, and can usually be done only by someone who has experienced the motion, the condensed actions, and here we have a trip to a German shower (yes just a simple trip, the things life are made up of), in 1970, in the city of Augsburg, West Germany, when I was a soldier, a Private in the Army, USA, when I was 22-years old, something’s never leave you…simple things, but perhaps to certain people, in this case, me, it is no different than a motorcycle ride, one that lasted for 10-months, and in the cold deep of the winter the shower was my arch-rival, it the sense of, it seemed to have its own life. I like the poetry of Juan Parra Del Riego, I enjoy it, it tells you the real moment of action, when it is taking place, and so I try to capture this moment in a multi rhythm order, called Polirritmo. I thought about doing this poem for many years, but was not sure how to produce it without losing its value, its character, its theme, premise, and so I do it the only way I know. And I dedicated this poem to Juan Parra del Riego, for his works have inspired me. This style of poetry has several rhythms to it. Reedited 9-22-2009/reedited, 4-2010.

To be published in the forthcoming book: "The Cotton Belt" (And other selected Writtings, by Dennis L. Siluk)


†