Jungle Smile

Jun11

I wrote the following poem before the events recounted below had occurred.
Last Christmas my mother gave me a book: River of Darkness by Buddy Levy (available at Amazon.com ha ha ha) which I ignored for about 4 months. I almost sold it, but filial guilt constrained me. Then, God be praised, I discovered Juaneco y su combo on YouTube and promptly became addicted to Amazonian Cumbia music. I got the book off my shelf and read it in about 3 days, learning about the Ecuadorian, Peruvian and Brazilian Amazon as well as her headwaters both mythical and actual.
But it gets weirder: I went to ‘Peru Culture Night’ at my local fine arts museum where they were showing a movie (Perro Hortelano) about the Peruvian Amazon. The film started late, I decided I did not want to stay. As I was leaving the event, I noticed a giveaway drawing being offered near the door. I entered the raffle (something I rarely do – and I have never won anything significant in my life). The prize was 4 days in the Amazon jungle. I scribbled my email and name on the ticket and threw it in. My last thought was: “if I were to win this it would prove that God knows all about my obsessions and also has a sense of humor.” I paid it no further mind.
The next day I was told I had won 4 days at Tahuayo Lodge in Tamshiyacu-Tahuayo conservation area near Iquitos.
I have a year to decide when to go. So you see, she fell right into my undeserving arms . . . great is the Lord of the Jungle. My poem:

Jungle Smile

Your beaded snakeskin loincloth

strung beneath humid palms

cool rippling breeze that calms

our hammock hung under thatch

what a catch . . .

your Amazons

running into my Congo

lost track of my bongo

back about one mile

from the sources of the Nile:

your jungle smile

restoring all celestial things

deep within your tropical clearings . . .

flowing slowly, going loco

at the mythic mouth of the Orinico . . .

shake your nut-brown biospheres

and banish all my worldly fears.

Dusk is nearing—clearing the hill

insects trilling a sinuous thrill;

the yuca half-mashed in the clay pot

the witch doctor hungover in his hut

while our little fire smolders

near the mountains of the moon

—or are they only boulders?

Come soon

Jesus, Lord of the Jungle . . .

linked version

Your beaded snakeskin loincloth
strung beneath humid palms
cool rippling breeze that calms
our hammock hung under thatch
what a catch…
your Amazons
running into my Congo
lost track of my bongo
back about one mile
from the sources of the Nile:
your jungle smile...
restoring all celestial things
deep within your tropical clearings…
flowing slowly, going loco
at the mythic mouth of the Orinico…
shake your nut-brown biospheres
and banish all my worldly fears.
Dusk is nearing – clearing the hill
insects trilling a sinuous thrill;
the yuca half-mashed in the clay pot
the witch doctor hungover in his hut
while our little fire smolders
near the mountains of the moon
– or are they only boulders?
Come soon
Jesus, Lord of the Jungle…

Jungle Music

Jun3

Juaneco vs. Tabu Ley: TIE !

jungle

Enjoy the musical jungle.

Never fear.
God will shortly restore ALL THINGS
back to the original Edenic splendor.

In the meantime you must decide which of these Jungle Songs you like best .

¡ Y que VIVA la SELVA para siempre!

I Guard the Flying Rear

May4

Now the Peruvians, in collected might,
With one wide stroke had wing’d the savage flight
But their bright Godhead, in his midday race,
With glooms unusual veil’d his radiant face,
Quench’d all his beams, tho cloudless, in affright,
As loth to view from heaven the finish’d fight.
A trembling twilight o’er the welkin moves,
Browns the dim void, and darkens deep the groves;
The waking stars, embolden’d at the sight,
Peep out and gem the anticipated night…
When pious Capac to the listening crowd
Raised high his wand and pour’d his voice aloud:
Ye chiefs and warriors of Peruvian race,
Some sore offence obscures my father’s face;
What moves the Numen to desert the plain,
Nor save his children, nor behold them slain?
Fly! speed your course, regain the guardian town,
Ere darkness shroud you in a deeper frown;
The faithful walls your squadrons shall defend,
While my sad steps the sacred dome ascend,
To learn the cause, and ward the woes we fear:
Haste, haste, my sons! I guard the flying rear…

excerpt from: The Columbiad, Book III by Joel Barlow

Inca Eclipse

Quito Rears Her Fanes…

Apr30

Grupo Deseo: ECUADOR

The clime where Quito since hath rear’d her fanes,
And now no more her barbarous rites maintains.
He saw these vales in richer blooms array’d,
And tribes more numerous haunt the woodland shade…

Yet softer fires his daring views control,
And mixt emotions fill his changing soul.
Shall genius rare, that might the world improve,
Bend to the milder voice of careless love,
That bounds his glories, and forbids to part
From bowers that woo’d his fluctuating heart?
Or shall the toils imperial heroes claim
Fire his brave bosom with a patriot flame, Prisoners-of-Sun-inca-dream
Bid sceptres wait him on Peruvia’s shore,
And loved Oella meet his eyes no more?

Sudden his near approach the maid alarms;
He flew enraptured to her yielding arms,
And lost, dissolving in a softer flame,
His distant empire and the fire of fame.
At length, retiring thro the homeward field,
Their glowing souls to cooler converse yield;
O’er various scenes of blissful life they ran,
When thus the warrior to the maid began:
Long have we mark’d the inauspicious reign Capac round
That waits our sceptre in this rough domain;
A soil ungrateful and a wayward race,
Their game but scanty, and confined their space.
Where late my steps the southern war pursued,
The fertile plains grew boundless as I view’d;
More numerous nations trod the grassy wild,
And joyous nature more delightful smiled…