User:Dr Silva

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Contact-new.svg PAUL ADE SILVA
Prof Silva.jpg
Occupation:University Professor


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.

June 2006 – Present: Professor, English Language & Literature

Group Universidad Internacional UIE (Fundacion Dharma Spain, Chile, Fundacion Educativa, Panama

Senior Faculty involved in Course Development and Management; Teaching English Language, Literary & Communication Arts undergraduate and post-graduate programmes. Coordinator of International Academic Board of Jury, Turkey. I was Professor at Canakkale Onsekiz Mart University, Turkey.


May 2011 – Present:

JOURNAL ACADEMIC MARKETING MYSTICISM ONLINE (JAMMO) is an open access journal that publishes high quality solicited and unsolicited articles in English and Turkish and welcomes the submission of manuscripts that meet the general criteria of significance, academic and professional excellence. All articles published in JAMMO are peer-reviewed. Papers are published bi-annually in all areas of Marketing and Business Management, Religion, Cult Religion, Philosophy, Mysticism, Mystical Places, Tourism, Psychology, Sociology: Cultural Anthropology, Linguistics, Media Arts and Information Communication Technology, Open Educational Resources (OER).


July 2012 – Present Turkey.

• Dealer: Linguatronics Language Software: complete digital language laboratory contents and management systems
• Education & Training Provider with Personalised Courses for individuals, groups and corporate clients in YDS; TOEFL; IELTS; TOEIC; individual tutorial in Academic Writing
• Corporate Training: English: beginner to proficiency level - listening, speaking, reading, writing, vocabulary, pronunciation and grammar.☁

Lecturer, English Language TEFL

2001 – 2003 (2 years) Istanbul Kultur University, Turkey. Lecturer of English.

Taught Writing and Oral Communication Skills to Undergraduates

Responsible for developing, designing and implementing

-  Written & Spoken Discourse I & II” (12 credits per academic year)

-  Advanced Communication Skills for Teachers I & II” (12 credits per academic year) for the MA    

English Lang. & Literature

Lecturer, English Language (TESP)

2000 -2001 (1 year) Antalya College, Antalya, Turkey. Lecturer of English

Preparatory English and English in Hotel Management.

Lecturer, English Language (TESP)

1998 – 2000 (2 years) Karadeniz Technical University, Trabzon, Turkey. Lecturer of English.

Taught English to multidisciplinary undergraduate and post-graduate students

Designed multiple syllabi and developed own teaching materials

Edited series of medical research papers for international publications including the journal of the

American College of Surgeon etc.

Producer/ Director, Drama/Cultural/Literary Festivals

1989 – 1998 (10 years) Huddersfield, England. Producer/ Director of drama and cultural/Literary festivals:

-  Many Words, One World Festival & One World Festivals; Writing in Education Seminars.

-  Partnership projects included The National Association of Teachers of English, Northern England and the National Association of Writers in Education, England.

Literacy Development Worker

1996 – 1997 (1 year 3 months), Department of Education, Huddersfield, England. Literacy Development Worker

Projects included working in two high schools to raise the achievement levels of pupils through

initiating, developing and implementing ESOL study program including writing projects for mixed

ability groups.

EFL Tutor

1994  Language Studies International, Cambridge, England. EFL Tutor (Summer Courses)

Taught EFL courses (Beginner’s to Advanced levels) to European and Asian students.

TESOL Lecturer 1 (Part-Time)

1990 – 1993 (3 years) Huddersfield Technical College, Community Outreach; TESOL Lecturer 1

Current Research Interests/Publications

Book Review and Publication. Cross-border education and access, Multicultural Education, Open

Contents & ICT

OJS: Turkish (tr TR) 


Sonmez Celik, Head Librarian, Dogus University Dogus University Journal

Aysel Silva & Paul Silva Journal Academic Marketing Mysticism Online

Tanju Aktug Insan Bilimleri Dergisi

Google Scholar Citation


OCLC WorldCat:


The University of Illinois OAI-PMH Data Provider Registry:

ASOS Academia Social Sciences Index Akademia Sosyal Bilimler Indeksi

Google Analytics

All JAMMO’s published contents are also archived with LOCKSS at:

Other Links via Paul Silva:





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


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.

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.

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
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

A Rumsfeld or Powell, then again maybe a DJT
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


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


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












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[20] [21]

Fundacion Dharma Affiliates & Consortium of Universities


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:

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