User:Dr Silva

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Contact-new.svg PAUL ADE SILVA
Prof Silva.jpg
Employer:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/École_supérieure_internationale_de_Bruxelles
Occupation:University Professor
Other roles:TEACHER TRAINER
email



Prof. Dr. PAUL ADE SILVA

My sandbox Between 2006 and now I’ve remained a Professor of Literary Arts, English and Education with the Fundacion Dharma (group of Universities), Spain. http://www.uie.edu.es/index2.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/École_supérieure_internationale_de_Bruxelles Sept 2007 - Aug 2008, I was Professor at Fatih University, Istanbul and prior to that I was Professor at Canakkale Onsekiz Mart University, Turkey.

JOURNAL

http://www.journalacademicmarketingmysticismonline.net

PUBLICATION

http://www.researcherid.com/rid/D-2524-2012

CREATIVE WRITING

POETRY

Angles, Their Angels of Squares

They own the cities, stocks and squares, defiance to
failure. Defining themselves tall, they attempt to
compete with the sky. The short ones are unsteady,
large and bold like a cold. They measure schisms,
frescoes and times with The Dark Ages. Saintliness
was manufactured for feud as the Victorians, aided
purity too literally to embezzle their children's
faith. Jacobean Renaissance baffled
nightmares with misogyny. Distant voices
to the 'Next Doors' in high-rise buildings
blame poetry to twist sophistry, confusing
intonation with cough-decors, seizing
on shortages as historical dent; leaving
their angels to admire the vault which
was once the earth. Now their earth
is visiting their angels in the tallest,
fastest plastic cements. Mellowing out
their roughness with bold-sadness and
angles, their angels of squares
without correlation.

Paul Ade Silva
Copyright ©2009 Paul Ade Silva


In Its Rhetoric

In its rhetoric with the power of a drunk
In its drinking a well from a well-versed
Invasion, in its inversion of its phasing
Down the global dam from a damned
Mis-spelt name: democracy - demonstrating
Against State or individual's craze,
There! I looked

In its democratization of its other babies
Proud and strong like usurpers, hoards,
Loan sharks, I looked for you, you were lost
Lost to the brilliance of an age with its
Banality, its barrenness, its joy of endless
Games full of riddles

In its weeping for a 'quid' lost on sucks
Full of sulphur, armed to the teeth with
Corrosion, I, too, looked but I was lost,
Lost to myself.

Paul Ade Silva
Copyright ©2009 Paul Ade Silva


DAYBREAK WITH ANGELS

Slowly the town settles, and the last drunks expand
on their excitement in the night; their plaintive joy
joins the first cries of the seagulls. They all dream
of futures now and not their past. The sleeping
hold on to their lives, the leaves unfold from their own
shade until they almost appear.


In the circles of the light we see the rain reflect
the spreading ripple of the dawn; when we see the still puddle
before a car destroys it we can see
its own reflected world complete, a dawning
before the dawn arrives, that moment we all know
and cannot place for it cannot be measured like time,


that moment when the light is artificial and the rain
drops individually maintain in their rounded sides
the street lights and the night, that single window
and the curtain drawn. That moment when,


before the sun has been so much as hinted at,
the electric light that seeps out of the room is fading,
has lost its power to create its own small world
and shine on to the smooth sides of each rain drop,
has become a colour more than light; that moment will
always be known and undefined, as certain as
grappling with an angel.


1
Outside the shouts that spill through the windows
of the last parties have discovered a new tone, and the songs
that sustained another pool of late night revellers who
asserted that the night would never end, that they would
better it as they stumbled over the impediments, are now
reflecting on the cries that come when pleasure turns
to melancholy and like the ambiguity of seagulls
make a cry deprived, deprived.


And when the night is inevitably sucked away
like a tide turning and we know there is no holding back
the waters, with the dark night in the pools
black as the sea, even when there is a spread of darkness
that the moon illuminates, there is a hint of sun,
or not of sun exactly, but sun mitigated, not so much
sun as light, not so much light as that presence
which the light intends, when without self-consciousness
each of us is still because that moment when the world has
turned on itself and all the horror of the heart
is made as clear as wrestling with an angel.


The world outside is for a moment here. The sound
of waves hoeing shingle is replaced by the more sustained
shingling of a lorry streaming through the rain and turning
over the ripples of the water in the road and that slowly
fading pool of light the headlamps make is
becoming part of a larger life, no longer isolated


like the driver in his cab but making him into a need
to talk as well as listen, struggle with himself and other
people, no longer anonymous in his own light, but when the
night is almost over and the last gift is given and the traffic
noises its way along the seafront faster in its darkness
than the day would allow and other traffic could contain.

2
And all the sounds then, at that moment the sea
and the rain make similar, the patterning revolving
water on the shore or in the turning wheel in water until
the sounds are familiar but differently sustained
then it is the moment when the outside angel enters in
and with that change, that silence, comes the wrestling.


The light that has been centred in the room is then defused
and the turning ripples of the streets made the more like
shore for all their struggling, then it that most bleak
of long time hours that makes each know that tight terrible
moment when we do not know the day breaking from night,


we do not know which is more real. Here, inside, I
do not know if this angel is real although I struggle with her,
wrestle with what I would like to make more palpable
because if she’d stay she’d be more like people in the day
not like the ghosts of pleasure, the lost souls sleeping
after their long enterprise, and I would see what kind of


angel is next to me, try to understand as the day
begins a little more of what is dream and what is real.
Now, outside, the night is changing. It is at that moment
when the night is at its zenith, before all the changing
with the dawn, a new beginning, a new day daring to be born.


Cedric Cullingford
Copyright ©2009 Cedric Cullingford

Secret Mood of Dusk

Let me take you to where dawn breaks with
a smile, to the land of singing Sun setting
the gems of goodwill, to crystal voicing
birds starring on moon crescent. Let me
repay your generosity with subcutaneous
atoms giving them in marriage to cellular
particles in lavish ceremony. Let the dance
steps of joy outlive death, let us meet
again across the oceans of the seven earth
plates where your beauty was once lost to
tidal waves of reassurances; hanging your
portrait along my blood canal. Let me die
in you, asking that I wear your radiance as
glasses. Let your breasts entwine my lungs
to the fresh breath of trees like exquisite
ornaments too precious to display in ghettos
of pearls. Let me show you the secret mood
of dusk before the handshake with dawn
smitten with affection.

Paul Ade Silva
Copyright ©2009 Paul Ade Silva

DEAD MAN

Dead man
Trumps clarity
Speaking generally
With optimism, pretty flaws, non-responsive
Elaborate plans
With a secure video teleconferencing
Dead man has described a slow ratchet
A shuttle diplomacy, notorious for paralysis
Whose offices are six feet away full of statutes
Dead man is stubborn trying a better mould


Internecine
A Rumsfeld or Powell, then again maybe not
The house is full of insistence
Yet the secret is white
With deadpan insecurity and brightness
People are slaughtered in disastrous flops
But at a variance
Warfare clears dead man as an insurgent
Leaving dead man the error
To die another day

Paul Ade Silva
Copyright ©2009 Paul Ade Silva

NOT REALLY HELD DOWN

You speak tabloid
In scales and slides
You’re a dejavou in supermarkets
Showing you’re really held down
Really held down


Broadsheets are broad as scopes
Detailed miniscule, you are
Down to earth, cobbling
A meandering soul
Really held down


You’re not content to be a human being
You’re wings and flights conferencing
With simpleton for wisdom
You’re battling your own self-survival
Being really held down


I hear of the happenings and
Remembering on the bus
My eyes now believe my ears
That cobblers only mend soles
Not really held down.

Paul Ade Silva
Copyright ©2009 Paul Ade Silva


SHAKING HANDS WITH HITCHHIKERS

The trucks crossed the sea, soaked with oil
The desert shared a night
Pricing what was too little to pay
The trucks crossed the sea, soaked with oil


Shoulder to shoulder, they stood gulf for gulf
Shaking hands with hitchhikers
Having a ride
Shoulder to shoulder, they stood gulf for gulf


Their proud necks, walked into each other
With condensed smile
Protecting big stomachs
Their proud necks, walked into each other


A deflective sight retracted from light
Blind alley rushed through
Broken promises
A deflective sight retracted from light.

Paul Ade Silva
Copyright ©2009 Paul Ade Silva


RESOURCES for WRITERS and STUDENTS of ENGLISH LITERATURE

[1]

[2]

[3]

DICTIONARIES

CAMBRIDGE [4] LONGMAN [5] MERRIAM-WEBSTER [6] OXFORD [7] SEMANTIC RHYMING [8] WORDSMYTH ENGLISH [9] PICTURE [10] POETIC TERMS - [11] SYNONYM [12] ROGET'S THESAURUS [13] ON-LINE DICTIONARIES THESAURUS- ENGLISH- ENGLISH- SOUND [14] ENGLISH- ENGLISH [15]


ONLINE SPANISH FREE

[16]

PREPARATORY ENGLISH LESSONS

[[17]]

Learning4Content


Welcome to Wikinews

The free news source you can write!]] Wikinews has two main types of article:

  • The most common is the synthesis article. These draw on media reports from many other sources (always fully cited). It is rare for other media stories to contain all the available facts, so we provide a more rounded and detailed report. We can also strip out any bias and present a neutral point of view.
  • The other type of articles is original reporting. These are first-hand news reports written by Wikinews contributors on-the-spot of news events. You can read more about this type of reporting at Wikinews:Original reporting.

Welcome to the Wikimedia Commons

a database of 2,749,533 freely usable media files to which anyone can contribute]]

  • The GNU Free Documentation License in plain text format

Wikiversity

is a Wikimedia Foundation project devoted to learning resources and learning projects for all levels, types and styles of education from pre-school and school to university, professional training and informal and lifelong learning. We invite all kinds of learners (teachers, students, and researchers) to join us in creating educational resources and collaborative learning communities.

  • Content is available under GNU Free Documentation License]]


RESEARCH

[18]

OPEN EDUCATIONAL RESOURCES TOOLKIT LINK

OVERVIEW -- Most of the Toolkit is designed for academics who are interested in finding and using OER in the courses they teach, or who wish to publish OER that they have developed. Some sections are aimed at institutional decision-makers and academics interested in setting up a more formal OER project. These projects may start with just a few interested academics but, as they grow, institutional policies, funding and legal constraints will become more relevant. Individuals who are not aiming to set up an institutional project may nonetheless be interested to read the whole document. Likewise, institutional planners, IT staff or librarians who are interested in setting up an OER project would benefit from understanding the academic's perspective.


[20]

PC WEB TOOLS

[21] [22]

Fundacion Dharma Affiliates & Consortium of Universities



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1. A page has been set up in the wiki to start framing the ground rules and processes for developing a QA and review policy:

[[36]] 2. Community members are now responding to key questions relating to this initiative on the relevant talk page:

[[37]]