By the Teeth of the Moon
The Great Wanka Battle
A poetic Adventure from the 16th Century
First Faction
[1 thru 4
The Warrior
1
The Warrior
I was born in the Mantaro Valley
I came from an old Wanka stock
Race whoses characteristics
Were inclined towards violencewar
We battled against one another!
In the mountain countryI lived
A valley surround it, is where I spent
My boyhood, a physical contest!
It was all a breath of life to me;
Restless of life, I became a warrior.
One must understand the risks,
The uncertainties as a warrior;
You must be utterly fearless, wild,
Primitive, and it was done, I was
I was all of this, aloof, strange!
2
The Blade
As a warrior, I could expect nothing,
Only fury, from my muscles, aching:
Grasp, raw skinned knuckles, aching;
Staring down my victims, doom,
My murderous blade, sharp at is point.
(I learned death in a thousand forms)
And due to this, I was partly dead.
In my life, at this time, I can but reply:
Continual violent action: imposes!...
Oversimplified, and now I die!
3
Captured
I was captured once and left to die
My wife (but not then))I shall not name))
Fumbled vainly at my feet: I had been
Physically tortured, she held me upright
She cried, and prayed and cried!
Worthless, yet she had pity for me
And now she waited vainly, hoping
Wringing her hands, knowing I was well
No more a shield, thus, I was free to:
Fight again; whoever saw such a woman [?
You will say perhaps, it is impossible
For a man like you, to fall in love
She was indeed a blinding flame,
A deafening sound in my chest
A sound I could never put to rest.
For a long time I was senseless, dead,
In my healing, longing in my sleep to love
Never really hoping to find it, yet:
Once found, she disrup ted my life
Yet, somehow, we became one.
4
The Vanquished
I always thought I return to her
My little yellow flower of the mountain
I shall return, I decreed! Freed
The vanquished bloodstains kill
They do not play favors for anyone.
My mind as I came to her
Her features sparkled and floated,
Around my eyes I can visualize
It now is all a transcendent vision
Yet strangely familiar as I walk
5 Interlude
Death Shadows
As in any war, he found his eyes upon the dead, his eyes trying to close (the dead that laid now behind him bleakly and quietly, he tried to wipe out their memory, the battle; he remembered all the shapes they had!
Stiffly in their cast mode, bold and cold, immortal faces, shrinking, he got away from them!
He called it hopeless surrender; he would have to learn how to be uncold, for the world could not afford a warrior with true affection (sorrowful it would be in battle)) but he was coming home)).
In his journey back, he lost all account of time, dead feet walking, lost is at period, un- hurrying, he clinched his hands, a snarl on his face: one way or another, he was coming home to his wife.
Their facesteeth showing, face bleached white, incapable of further movement, he made no sound, his breath hissed, as he recollected, wordless, he sank into a silence of profanity, yet he kept waling, walking, walking.
The Great Wanka Battle
Part One
By the Teeth of the Moon
Four-thousand warriors battled this night
Two-thousand Wanka warriors would die
Along the Mantaro Rio, in the Valley
And they had equal weapons and all
And many of the warriors were hidden
On both sides of the Rio were Wankas
I and the Wankainos (the ancient ones)
Kept up our incessant fires, and spirits
But with scant avail, for we all knew
Slowly the other village crept closer...
Closer and closer they crept f or accuracy
To the edge of the Riospying they came
Hid in the ditches along the Rio, and trees
Held their positions, waiting, just waiting:
In short order, hoping to wipe us out.
Suffering terrible, in the cold winds
It would have been madness to swim
Across the Rio at night, but we did
Suffering terrible from the cold winds
Slowly we crept closer to them!
Thus, we crossed the Rio at night with
Only the teeth of the moon for light,
Arching down, now on the ground
Blue blades by our sidesdetermined
Bizarre figures, spears at our thighs.
Part Two
Battle along the Rio
I heard a voice vaguely familiar:
I slashed off his headit rolled
Grinning down the hill to the mud;
Once on land we rushed the camp
In-between fires, dogs and cats
Panting, blood stained, fierce faces
Led onlyby the teeth of the moon
Flamed eyes, fumbling in our haste,
Back! I heard someone say
I nstantly my ears heard a distant roar!
The shooting of porras snarled by
Fire arrows singed burn my hair,
I was the last Wanka warrior to die
In this chaotic war; blindly we fought
Some bodies smoking burnt crisp
I saw the remnants of my comrades
There was no escape; none! None at all.
We walked into a devouring path
I and I alone, escaped to the Rio
By the teeth, the teeth of the moon!
I raced through the water of blackness
I suspected, I was confused, mumbling:
The erratic moon, bobbing above me
Then I reached my side of the Rio
There was the spy in the hollow log!
Part Three
In the Midst of Battle
In the midst of the Wanka battle
Massed thick with Wanka bodies
We were all fighting like demons
The battle was a gasping deadlock
They could not thrust us back
We slashed, heaped high their bodies
Then when we were exhausted, they
Came in full forcehand to hand
Men stumbling among the dead
Flesh and blood with a thunderous roar!...
Wanka warriorswe were everyplace
Everyone madden to a frenzy (hidden)
Theyour enemy Wanka brothers,
They were hidden in trees, logs, ditches
Desperate melee, we gave way!..
The battle streamed out, throughout
The camp, and down to the Rio,
Trampling feet, shoutswith blue steal
Hand to hand, came the vengeance:
All foes in the same valley and Rio...!
Part Four
Death (in the Midst of Agony)
On we died like locust, so thick in battle
So broad we could not spread our arms,
And once we tried, wide, broken wings
(With broken arms and knees, we fought)
Thus, being repaidwe died in agony.
Red, red blood was the repayment
I could not pity them, or they us:
We were all dazed by the battle sight
Some cowering in terror, and me, me
I was in the painful midst of Agony!...
Hacking and slashingwarriors!
I avoided chance blowssomehow;
I slash and gashed, a path to the Rio
I swam swiftly through the currents
My bronze limbs against the water-walls
Now cross the Rio, glaring in on me
I found a path, where the wind blew
The dome of the moon shattered
In the semi-darkness: my bronze limbs
Crushed, with pain and the rain!
I heard from distant Wanka iron hands,
Pounding lungs, their feet in triumph
The say, We conquered the fools, yet
They, like us, are from the Valley
And some day they will be conquered too.
Part Five
Stonewalls
Of this past cataclysmic frenzy
That took place awhile ago
The death of howling humans,
Brought me memory crushing walls
A ghastly roaring through it all!
You think before a battle, and during:
Your body can blast through it all;
How many fell that day, do not know
But I was the only one to escape
Over the rivers, over the rivers flow.
What I expected to find or gain in war
Is different than what I found
Like blind and brainless monsters
We founta blinding white flame
Enveloped in a frantic oblivion.
(You my say perhaps it was all in vain,
My only reply is that I was part of it;
Senseless as it is, was, and will be:
Again, afterwards, one becomes vested
In delirium, paralyzed with!
Part Six
By Lantern of the Moon
(After the Battle)
As I walked towards my home,
Trees loomed out of the darkness
Thinning brancheswith a hushed
Vague skydog barking ahead:
Guided only b y the lantern of the moon.
I struggled now up side of the sierra
The old creek bottom, behind me now
My mind in a fine obliviousness
At last I saw, from far away
A shadow standing in the darkness!
I felt a sad, gloomy, faintly chill
My woundsmy whole body dying
Dying among the living sierra trees
The dog heard me, barked again,
His shadow trying to listen, to listen!!
Her voice, humming, ebbing my way
My pathlike a falling echo
Motionless, like a broken branch
The dog barked again, nearer:
My wife stared off into the darkness.
7
I Died
I died, and went into a silence
I died, and the silence rippled
It was neither nightnor day
I wanted to follow the path
You know the one to my house!
But I was deadamong the trees
The house seemed to loom before me
(a different dimension perhaps)
Then I found myself beside her
I whispered her namestirringly!
Her lips were cold, or where they mine?
She tasted fatality, doomdidnt know
Her head bowed between her breasts;
I was now above her: she was so brave.
(And I died, and she went to bed.)
And I thought then, about the times
She and I, held each other
And we would lay in the meadows,
And quietly in the darknessshed
Make me warm, and she was soft.
(But this doom, I could not escape.)
Part Eight
Spring and Decay
There were no intimate things in her room, emptythe entire room stilla chill of desolation, spring had come, in a bright blue sky, she saw flowers lying on the ground, as if forgotten
she walked further into the wooded area, therewithered and dead laid her husband. Crumbled in his fingers, flowers, she touched his hand, they had left a stain, and he smelled: reeked with decay!
Soberly and a little sorrowful, in the chill of the morning air, she paused, fretfully, brooding, alarmed, her fear and bewilderment had come true: trying to remember what little they had done together.
The gist of it was plain enough, she had never understood him or war, but she did today, it meantdetachment. It all impliedone must put it behind them, to stay alive, to survive, yet shocked and curiousshe didnt appreciate it.
She asked herself What are the words to this? there was nothing to do [perform, carry out save, hope for a new husband, yet that brought back distaste, and dread; she had to trust to a stranger (she put this aside for the time being).
Part Nine (conclusion) Interlude
The Ghost of Weeping
(Grieving) She stood sluggishly by her fireplace, her hands cold to the bonesshe stood before it, then turned towards the window, there she could see the drooping threes, her heart leaped a little You fool, she said; his shadowy shape came leaping unto the open sill of the window, You idiot, she said; the shadow seemed to stare at her, with a wild repose.
Her wet face, lighted up Dont, she cried, and then she tasted her own tearsshe clung to the window, the shadow showed saber intensity Have I gone crazy? she asked herself.
She had been hoping he would have come home, I mean, come home for good, she had waitedso she said aloud, longer than a thousand fires and perhaps had she not found his body, she would have waited longer . No, she answered, wishful thinking! That is what it was. What? she said; a voice said, youll find someone soon she stared quietly (it was if the voice was annoyed).
Her chin now in her palms, looking into the fire, You dont want to! She said Surely for what its got to be. She added, Whatever you think, it is because it is what you want to believe.
She picked up a cup, drank its contents sat back, her face rosy in the firelight. She closed the window, People smell bad because of the things they do; she said, living corruption, flags the flesh, all soiled. She felt clean to the bonethen the fire went out.
She murmured He gave half of himself to me, and the other half, perhaps the better half, he swapped for warthat part, I could never find, until now.
W
#1450 9-6-2006 (First parts written the first last week of August, and the last parts written the first week of September, 2006)) drawings also drawn during the same periods.))
See Denni s' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords::
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