Poems From Satipo [A Jungle Poem in Three Parts]

Ode to Satipo [Part One/Jungle Eyes]

O Satipo, your jungle eyes—I see;
Lo, your life-filled warmth opens

Upon thy brow…

Be ye, open up—your jungle gates

For me,

Before—,
Before the wild comes with new

And old roars
(And horrific drums form within

The deep…)!

I could feel and hear the jungle life

Within my veins,—
Appeared images—within my brain.

Leafage, like peace offerings—

Silently—swayed,
Upon the shoulders of its kind—;
And here I stood in paradise!

1/24/06 #1016

Ode to Satipo [Part Two/Peru’s Abode]

Across her deep-roads of green

From rivers and valleys now

(From where I stand) unseen,—
From thy heavens above, falls

Forth,
(In truth and trials, and long course)
To call you nobler friend, than I,
Wherefore I stand, under your skies.
Wherefrom I saith, ‘Satipo!’—

Peru’s abode—, as
Precious as the Andean walls—
Be ye, lift up your gates:

Jungle (beauty),
For here is where stars are born!...

#1017 1/24/2006

Ode to Satipo [Part Three/Shades of Green]

Oh patient Satipo, in silent

Green!
Complexities, triumphs

Wings like engines

(Everywhere)

And, what so way I look,
Shapes and wonders: bounties

Great—
That thou with loving care

Creates A thousand colors of jade
Receding in your rainforest;
Hence, I sense your bliss,
Within

Your wildness…!

#1018 1/24/2006

Comments by the author: I had lived as a child in the city (St. Paul, Minnesota, United States), which I left as soon as possible, to roam the world, which I felt was really my own little city. I was amazed at the diversity of the world, its many kinds of people, traditions, customs, temples, ruins, climate, geography, animals—, and now I’ve been to several jungles, and of course that is in a class of its own. From Central America (Tikal), to the Amazon, to the Gran Sabana, and those jungles in Java, and South East Asia, Vietnam; and let me add, Guam, and the Galapagos (more for the animals, than jungle though); and Easter Island (again, more for its isolated location, and its people than for the jungle life); the fact is, it is all one big jungle for me; etcetera. These poems in this book were written during a quiet time of my life (which is now of course); quiet, in the sense of: I’m slowing down some, more because I have to, not necessarily want to. So I dedicate this three part poem to the folks of the Satipo Jungle of Peru. And to a friend writer, who has written much in his young life,and loves the word, and has much to say: Lance Windslow.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com