She sent back the last order, as well.
This time, she shook her head
like a dog in the rain,
like a posh-frock woman
having "a spell."
The brimming broth, she said,
had a bitterness that swelled
and stung between her cheeks,
and across her tongue.
It steamed with the scent
of turmeric and sweat,
a lipstick kiss in the basement
of the Red Grotto Used Bookstore,
of a Dominican girl, half her age,
in skin jeans and red sneakers,
pulling her by the hand
during Summer City Lit Festival
last year.
She claimed she craved the
steaming heat of our menu's
Andean soup,
but bones like razors waited
when she raised the brim
of the bowl to her lips.
Just like the wine she sent back,
she said that the broth bit her lip
with a vicious grin
when she closed her eyes,
opened wide,
leaned in,
and tried to love it
with the whole of her mouth.
under a nervous rain
in the dark afternoon of the forest
the slave extracts latex from the rubber tree
and the whip leaves stripes in the man on his knees
under the scorching sun
in the morning before shrouded by mists
the slave handles the pan in the stream
and the whip opens a bloody wound in him
but centuries before that
the ferocity of the jaguar lurks in the woods
the beautiful water lily looks like a green tray
where the dragonfly is swallowed by the frog
conquerors' helmets reflect a sliver of the sun
beyond the sodden forests is their way
past the snowy Andean mountain
the Inca temples are waiting for the nefarious visit
that will bring devastation and pain
Andean Mountain Cats are listed as, endangered
and are found in, Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina
They inhabit arid to semi-arid areas, in the Andes Mountains
and their thick fur and long tail, helps them prevail on their trail
Their range is so inhospitable and remote, for humans to study
but humans hunt them for their fur, because of the greed of money
Other threats are loss of habitat, and the hunting of their main prey
of Mountain Viscachas and Chinchillas, has made their life so gray
SONNET FOR LOS CAMPITOS TEAM
Orinoco flow to Andean peaks, the nation
Protests the chaos suffering and pain
Yet once more you young pilgrims made migration
To this distant shore from 'cross the Spanish Main
Not for refuge nor self-centred better life
But to represent beloved land with pride
Led with wisdom toward victory over strife
By a princess of the Nile who was your guide *
So let striving for success that's in your essence
Be revitalised once more for your return
Taking back with you your drive and luminescence
To a country seeking light for which it yearns
Your inspiring dedication may avail a
New resurgence and bring hope to Venezuela
* Her name: Aida
Sacred Lake Titicaca
High atop the Andes, between Bolivia and Peru,
sits the birthplace of the Incas, sacred Lake Titicaca.
A powerhouse of nature through and through,
it was created by the Inca god of the lake, Viracocha.
A treetop view showcases unique flora and fauna that abound,
from llamas to fresh water snails dozing in the sun;
rainbow trout and other colorful fish are found
as sunlight reflects golden on the lake’s horizon.
Flocks of snowy egrets among the rare totora reed
share this natural habitat with slate-gray Andean coots,
snowy egrets, and white-tufted grebes diving for feed,
while parrots scratch their heads perched on mangrove roots.
Sounds of nature overcome the silence of twilight,
as huge water frogs on lily pads croak their lullabies.
The black-crowned night heron forages in the dying light,
and gloomy catfish float underground for a tasty prize.
Incas believed that when their time on earth was done,
the mystical clear blue water was a portal to the stars,
and into the depths of Titicaca, their spirits would return,
to reunite with their gods and venerable ancestors.
05-25-2017
Power of Journeys
New horizons speak in hope and pull me to Pablo Neruda’s country
‘Twenty poems of love’ inspired by Santiago Robinson Crusoe Island
Serene landscapes volcanoes Andean mountains are outspokenly funky
I seek the space vibes vastness Chilean seduction loudly and silent
Few books opened my voice more than ‘The Gulag Archipelago’ scripted
by Alesandr Solzhenitsyn and thus my eyes have to explore the Siberian Plain
Despite all that ice a melting pot of souls minds and cultures encrypted
I need to welcome silence once more and Lake Baikal into my inner terrain
‘The Paradise of the Blind’ with heart blooded ink by Duong Thu Huong
wants exploration quiet reflection uncontaminated comprehension
Nature wrapped in philosophy the Mekong Delta is where I belong
Peace solitude reclusion at times require my full travelling attention
On this voyage Pinochet Stalin and Ho Chi Min can stay in their grave
Blending and mixing with beauty wise words Mother Earth is what I crave
Quito sing the song of my heart
between your mountain ranges
the air so light so high are you
I watch the lights at night's fall
Basilica Del Voto in all her
grandeur. Sweet Ecuador holds you so dear!
You were born upon the ruins
of an ancient Inca City
I lay my soul at your feet.
Sing to me my Andean Highlands!
Kiss me with your ancient lore
dust my lips so gently, I
close my eyes!
:: ~ ::
Conceived in nineteen forty six
By naturalist, Sir Peter Scott,
This wetland paradise now thrives
And teems with ducks and geese and swans.
The wild geese drew Scott to the marsh,
The flood plain of the river Severn,
Where countless wintering wildfowl stop
Upon their migratory journey.
There’re nine varieties of swan
And more than twenty types of geese,
Not to mention ducks by the dozen
With varying plumage through the seasons.
Flamingos, elegant on stilts,
Gather gregariously together.
They make a brilliant splash of colour,
Frome palest pink to brightest orange.
Some stars will often steal the show –
The friendly Nene (Hawaiian Goose);
No fear of man, almost extinct,
Till Scott encouraged breeding pairs.
That shrill cacophony of sound
Which drifts across the shining lake
Is made by happy Whistling Ducks
That yearn to share their thrill of life !
Andean Geese in regal splendour,
Proud pairs that strut upon the shore,
Each one so full of self-importance
That smaller ducks will keep well clear.
Our visit now is near its end;
We bid farewell to feathered friends
And leave with glowing memories
Of Slimbridge on the Severn marsh.
Bluebirds can't fly over the rainbow,
And I'll tell you something more;
The only avian species that can
Is the Andean Condor.
A chased rainbow is never caught.
Somehow, a rainbow's never "here".
The closer you get to the pot o'gold,
The rainbow moves or even disappears.
If I could fly over the rainbow,
My heart would sing;
But I can't fly over the rainbow,
'Cause I've got no damn wings.
Yes, we're all seeking rainbows.
In that, there's nothing wrong;
But every day I can say,
"I'm glad Judy Garland sang the song."
Grapes slumbering; on..'
Leafs shading, yeast patina'ed fruit..
Sun-downers tonight..!
Grapes ripening on..'
Vine gripping seasoned trellis.
Purple skies..' ( thirst )
Grapes burgeoning on..'
frame groans; the labourers gains..'
Andean moth drinks..!
©Joe Maverick 15-5-2012
Andean Pampas Grass grows in California.
Its Linnaean binomial is Cortaderia jubata.
This noxious weed disperses far and wide.
With tall stalks and inflorescences, it has nothing to hide.
As an ornamental plant native to South America,
it was introduced inadvertently into California.
I can see tall stalks as much as seven meters in height.
They bend in the breeze as we approach into night.
There are nimbus clouds in the crepuscular sky.
Silhouettes of the tussocks can be seen with my eye.
Bending, but never breaking, I shall see them in the day.
Along this California road, they will continue to stay.
Mountains glow like amber
As being lit by an eternal fire
The sun sets slowly
Andean peaks embedded in clouds
Shadows spread on ancient sands
Berge glühen wie Bernstein
Wie durch ein ewiges Feuer entfacht
Die Sonne geht langsam unter
Anden Gipfel eingebettet in Wolken
Schatten ergießen sich auf altem Sand
Las montañas brillan igual al ámbar
Como encendido por un fuego eterno
El sol se pone despacito
Picos de Andes empotrados en nubes
Las sombras se desaguan en antigua arena
Wind, rub your beak
Against the eaglets
Nesting high in the
Andean Cliffs to say,
The Lord shall give
thee wings to fly
El Condor...........
Flying
This snowscape
High flight
High escape
Mountain light
This solitary flying
Wind sighing
Mountain light
Andean flight
El Condor
Soaring high
Andean home
Flying alone
Hear the moan
Of Incan wind
Hear it sigh
El Condor
This Incan wind blows
Andean mountain snows
The Inca have now gone
El Condor
Temple of the sun
El Condor..............
has won
El Condor
High in sky,
watching me
I see you fly,
you know why
God of sky
This great spread of wing
Land of inca,
encompassing
Mountain height
Mountain light
El Condor
Moon
Sun
Earth
Thunder
Lightning
Sea
These gods you see............
Cannot compare
To the giant of the air
That flies free
El Condor