The Plane from Iquitos 1959Part One

Iquitos & the Amazon Part One

It was December 2, l959, I was sitting on a small prop-plane leaving Iquitos, Peru for a trip down the Amazon toward the opening, the mouth of the mighty Amazon,--to Manaus. As we flew low one could see the waters of the Amazon, the city always impressed me, but more from this birds-eye view, you could see the mighty river in its squid like form, with all it tentacles [contributories: waters linking to the river. It would get smaller, and then wider as you flew along its stretched out body, it was four miles wide at one point, and that was nothing compared to other spots of the Amazon? In the jungle area, it was a sea of green, nothing but towering green. It was said it could produce as much water flow as the any seven other largest rivers in the world. It was they said the longest river in the world, seemingly always debating it with the length of Nile. There were eight passengers to include me, the pilot and co-pilot, making u s ten in all.

I liked Iquitos, especially the Iron House, the very one made by none other then Mr. Eiffel, the one who made the tower in Paris. I had eaten for the first time Pirana Roia, it was delicious, except for the many bones, and the fish wasnt all the big once you cut the head off, although the teeth looked like a baby sharks, dead and unpleasing. I had caught a few fishing, it there was a secret to that. I used a stick for a fishing rod, and tied a string on it with a semi-big hook, and put a big piece of meat on it. Then when the fish took hold of it, the Pirana that is, he doesnt chew it, or even bit into it like other fish, he rips it outward, and so at first touch, the fisher man has to yank it upward to hook the fish right under his upper teeth. He had a big low jaw, but a small upper portion to his head so if you do not do this he will not be hooked. Actually you may hook his upper teeth for they extend out as does the lower one.

As we conti nued to fly down the river about 125-miles we started to go inland form the river, t he view was tremendous, the height of the trees. With my binoculars I could see what the co-pilot called the big lazy bird up in the trees; we were less then 100-feet over the top of the trees, and some of the monkeys. Then all of a sudden I heard a shot, it hit the wing, and then another. The co-pilot, Henry, looked out my window didnt see anything unusual, then Captain Derry, came in,

Weve been hit by something, were loosing fuel, not sure exactly where we can land but Ill see, then he went back to his cock-pit. All eight of us now were looking out the window. There was Mary and John, from Hong Kong, both spoke good English, and then there was Lora from someplace in Florida, she was an accountant on a single trip, leaving her boyfriend and women friend who both did not want to come on the trip for personal reasons, thus, she said if they didnt want to come it shouldnt stop her from doing what she wanted, and it didnt. There was the man from Budapest of all places a professor of some kind, I just called him Professor, he also was alone. Then there was the three women from some place in the South West, they were on a world tour of sorts, and had left Barrow, Alaska. Martha, the elder of the three elder women was most chatty, and talked about her walking 500-feet out onto the ice, and standing on a frozen wave. She was courageous for sure. I never did get the other two womens names.

And now the plane started to lower itself, I seen an opening, several huts, one big one was below us. The pilot circled the area. In the center was room like a ball park, or simply a wife open space, he was going to try and land it there. It wasnt all that big, but big enough.

Twenty Minutes Later

The Village

Somehow we hand landed, but the front end of the plane went head first into one of the several huts, one wheel broke off and now way would we be able to use this as a runway to escape, if we could. We were all shook up a bit, but no one was hurt.

As we all stepped out of the plane, it looked like a village, yet no one seemed to be around. As we all started going our own ways kind of walking in shock, we found ourselves in two groups of five, and the Captains group were headed toward the big wooden hut of sorts, to see if he could talk to any of the tribes people. I was walking with the other five to the smaller huts. As we went from one hut to the next, it seemed there might have been several families to a hut, I noticed sleeping rugs, made out of sticks on the floor. Then on tables I noticed cameras of all kinds, watches, rings, jewelry.

Then being more curious I made my way with the following five, the tree woman from Barrow, and the Professor. The others were with the Captain and co-pilot; --we went into three more huts, they all had these little treasures of sorts, cameras, rings and watches, etc. It was as if they were prizes, or for that matter, trophies of sorts.

Then I got thinking we needed to catch up with the Captain, so I directed the people with me to the big hutch. There was a basement section to the hutch, and I noticed the others were down in it. It was much cooler in the lower section, and the square feet to the upper was the same as to the lower section, quite big I thought, compared to the other huts, maybe 1600-square feet.

Troy, said the Captain to me, It looks like these inhabitants are not friendly creatures. Three hours hand gone by for him to have figured that out I thought.

He added, Lets take our jewelry off and leave it down here so when they come they will realize we are friendly. Everyone looked at him, and then started taking it off but me.

Troy, the Captain said, You going along with this or what?

No, sorry Captain, but youre not the Captain any more, only while Im on that flying ship or you rs. I was an old soldier, and I didnt stay alive by giving up. I was 39-years old, the Korean War; this was not the way things were done.

Listen, I said, I am not going to leave them anything for a trophy, and I do not see any live people looking like me walking around. Matter of fact, I see a hole in the wing by a gun, and it is most likely theirs. Second, they are most likely looking or us, and went farther East thinking that is where the plane went down, because that is the direction you went in to circle around. Third I suggest we go west 150-miles back to Iquitos. It should take 15-days, at 10-miles per day in the jungle. We should also burn this village so to let them know we are not going to be easy pickings, plus they will need to re-supply, and this will damage some of that. And we may need our jewelry to keep us alive, if we find some nice natives in this beastly jungle.

Said the Captain,

It sounds better than my plan I have to admit, an d so, where do we go from here?

Having said that, we put torches to the rest of the village, grabbed some meat that was hanging in one of the huts, I grabbed a gun from the plane, the Captain said he never shot one. It had six bullets in its revolving chambers; it was worth its weight to carry it. Then with some skins tied to our backs, we found in the big hutch, to use for sleeping, and some skins filled with water, we headed west.

The New Journeythe Amazon

The five that were with me seemed to want to say with me, and so we both already hand our teams figured out. And so into the wild we went the deep rooted jungle. If anything we got sore feet the first six hours of walking through the jungle, trying to get to the Amazon which would be easier to follow, and we could find a boat somehow, and possible someone to help us on our trip back to Iquitos. I hand already broke a toe-nail to my big toe as I had fallen a few times, water getting into my shoes. I had taken them off for awhile, and waked bare food over the mucky slimy patches of and pools of water as we hiked through the jungle. To roots pulled my toe nail out more, and it was bleeding. The Professor fell and broke his nose trying to climb an embankment, over roots, roots and more roots. The three older women were quite tired, and so we stopped to make camp, and I tried to make a fire but everything seemed damp. After an hour I did succeed.

Then about 10:00 PM, a native came walking into our camp, I pulled my revolver out,

No want trouble, said the native, He was almost completely naked. He had explained he had never seen a white person before, but heard of them and that the natives I had burnt their village down were looking for me. That we were brave to that, and he added, they [his band of people hand thought many times on doing just such a thing, when they were gone, but they had no place to go but here, and somehow it would come back to haunt th em. And so that evening we were invited to their village as guests, and it couldnt have happen at a better time.

When we got situated at the village he gave me save for my toe, and reset the Professors nose some how. The women were given hammocks to rest. And as I looked about the five huts, I noticed on top of a tree there was a man looking about, as if in a canopy that circled his village for any trouble.

My name Mana, he explained.

The Tarantula Hunt

Mana was very kind; we expected to stay there two day, so he would not get in trouble with the other tribe. The only problem was his tribe took a profound interest in us, and at time allowed the guards, or the one guard to get involved with the celebration, and festivities. Matter of fact, Mana, and one of main guards, Kim, or so it sounded like Kim, took me Tarantula Hunting. Well, we didnt kill any, just went into the depths of the jungle and he took [Kim a long stick, and found holes by some b ig trees and poked it down into them, waking up the tarantulas. He did this several times, most were larger then my hand. I stepped back a bit, but not too far from Kim, and minimized his character. They, if anything seem to be a little sleepy. Yet, as wed walk away, theyd stare and watch us, not go back into their hole until all was safe. Interesting how we all protect our property.

The Attack and the Painted Man

It was morning on the third day, we had outstayed our privilege, yet it seemed Mana didnt want to let us go. The three older women got along well with helping the youth of the camp, and the Professor was as happy as a baby duck just walking around trying to learn their language and customs. I was more into the adventure part, and took a few walks with Mana, and a night hunt on one of the tributaries from the Amazon, looking or antecedes in a dug out boat. Man was going to point the way for us this morning. Actually he drew a map last night, and we expected to be on our way soon. As we all gathered into the center of the camp, Mana looked up in the tree at the spot Kim was suppose to be guarding, and he wasnt there. He then looked at me, he looked a little ill, then looked about, into other areas of the high trees, some reaching over 115-feet high, but Kim was no where to be found.

It seemed out of nowhere all the birds in the trees left, Mana and I looked into each others eyes, it was as if death hit both of us at once, and at that moment, a spear went through his back, piercing his heart, and right on through him coming out and almost hitting my waist. He dropped to his knees, then several spears more came, all hitting the men first, then the women and kids. I shot three of them in the trees, but it seemed no one else hand a chance to get to a weapon, and no one else could see where the enemy was. I simply sprayed the area with bullets that the spears were coming out of. Out of six shots, I got three o f the enemy. And I stood there, just stood there with bodies all around. I saw from a distance a tall, very tall lean man, with a painted face. He didnt come close to me, he kept his distance, possible for two reasons I thought, one I hand the gun, and he didnt know how many bullets it hand, and two, he wanted to show me what my presence created. The professor and the three women were dead, Mana, Kim, wherever he may be, and the twenty or so tribes people. It was a hell of a day.

The painted man, walked away, as did every one else. And then I seen a spear coming towards me, I knew I was dead [I wanted him to turn around but he didnt.dead.

Dennis' first story [part one of the now, ongoing drama of The Plane from Iquitos, was origianlly done in 2003, and published in the book, Draculas's Ghost, and then part two was done in 2004, and now part three. The forth part is in draft from, and part one has not yet made it to the Spanish side of town, but I am hoping it will soon; although part two and three have. Dennis lives in Lima, Peru, and has been in Iquitos, and down the Amazon, so it is a little like his backyard. Rosa Penaloza

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Short Story
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Mechanical Poetry Part Three

Have you ever read the lyrics of a Simon and Garfunkle song? Pure Poetry. Want to write Poems like that? Start copying them. Let me explain.

The Myth Of Creativity

Creativity is somewhat of a myth. It isn't that it doesn't exist, but people's ideas about it are mis-informed. Many believe that to be creative is to come up with something completely new. There isn't an artist or inventor out there who has done this.

Somebody had to write the first four-line verse or haiku Poem, right? Now is everyone that uses these forms an uncreative copy-cat? No, of course not. We must copy forms, general ideas and techn iques, so why not do it more systematically?

Poem Writing Tricks

Copy a Poem you like, and then play with the elements. Part of the beauty of a Poem is in the structure and the rhythm. Why not insert your own words into that, to see what happens?

Here is the last part of a Poem titled Gratitude. It started by painting a picture of the mountains,and then;

Words fail, as they should...

So there is nothing to say
There is nothing to say
There is nothing
Is nothing
Nothing...

But gratitude

Now, if you take the general gimmick of the diminishing lines, you could insert all sorts of thoughts. An example:

Pain returns, as it must...

And to where can I turn for relief?
To where can I turn?
Where can I?
Where?

But to life

Shameless? No more so than the second time somebody wrote a four-line verse. New words have created a new Poem. In the context of a longer Poem, this copying of form in one verse might not even be noticed.

What is Creativity if you don't create something? Use whatever tricks and techniques you need to start creating Poetry.

Steve Gillman has been playing with Poetry for thirty years. He and his wife Ana created the game Deal-A-Poem, which can be accessed for free at: http://www.dealaPoem.com

Author:: Steven Gillman
Keywords:: Poetry,Poets,Poems,Poem,Poet,Poetic,Creativity,Poetic devices
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Become A Poet In Ten Minutes

Have you ever sat there staring at the paper, ready to write, but unsure where to begin? Want a solution that will overcome even the worst writer's block? Anyone can start Writing Poetry today using a few simple techniques.

One, two, ...?

Did you say or think three when you saw the above? If not, you certainly would when I asked you to fill in the blank. Your mind is a powerful machine that recognises or creates patterns. To make this work for you as a poet, you simply have to lay out the materials in an implied pattern, and let your mind do its thing.

The materials, in this case, of course, are words or ideas. So let's round up some materials for an example. If you want to write a Poem about thunderstorms, you might start by Writing down relevant words, and then choose the more evocative ones: flash, blowing, rumble, night, deadly and rain, perhaps.

Now you set the pattern. In this case, we'll write a four-line Poem, using one of our words in each line. We'll only decide if we want a ryming Poem after we start. This is what I came up with after five minutes:

Rain stands still in the sky

Trees dance as in a painting

In a flash it is here and gone

And night grumbles at being revealed

It doesn't matter if most aren't good Poems. You just have to write a lot of them, and then work on re-Writing the ones with potential. With a little practice, you can write a dozen Poems in an hour, then pick out the gems. My wife has had Poetry published using Deal-a-Poem, a game we created based on this technique, so we know that it works, and it's fun as well.

More Tips For Fast Poetry

The technique above works because when your mind focuses on a word with the intent to use it in a line, it is stimulated into action. It wants to find the pattern - or create it. To make this work even better, try the following:

1. Start with words that are evocative and metaphorically rich. You'll be more inspired and probably write a richer Poem with howled, torn open, and festering, than with said, broken, and rotten.

2. Use this or any other technique as a starting point only. If you have a great line already in mind, don't force one of the words from your list into it. If a Poem starts to write itself, and becomes ten six-line verses, forget about the technique. Treat it as a tool to be used when you need it.

3. Don't sit there waiting for inspiration . Write anything NOW. Start with any topic, or even random words. The surest way to get inspired in your Poetry is to start Writing a Poem.

Steve Gillman has been playing with Poetry for thirty years. He and his wife Ana created the game Deal-A-Poem, which can be accessed for free at: http://www.dealaPoem.com

Author:: Steven Gillman
Keywords:: Poetry,Poem,Poems,Writing
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Crying Inside

The way that Im feeling is hard to describe
I feel lost and alone in this unbearable life

My emotions are twisted, my stomach in knots
I wish there was something to erase my thoughts

I feel so desperately clingy I feel so free of heart
If you could please just kiss me that would be a great place to start

I do not like the feeling of not knowing how you feel
I dont like looking in your eyes and seeing all my fears

I really feel so empty searching for the light
Maybe if you could please turn it on tonight

My head is all clouded my eyes full of tears
I cant hold on to this feeling for years

I hope that is passes, maybe merely a phase
I am ready to be out of this daze

I am going to try to fake my smile
Maybe that will last for a while

It you think you see a smile on my face
Look a little deeper youll see Im out of place

Maybe someday soon the sun will shine
Even through the bad you a re always mine.

Mothers Day

What is a mom?

A mom is hot chocolate when its cold
She gives you just what you need when you need it the most

A mom is a feeling of happiness and love the friend you always need know matter what
A mom is always being by your side wrong or right shes there for you for life

A mom is knowing just what to say when your down and depressed or having a bad day
A mom is compassion tenderness and concern and she is there to help you learn

A mom is the strongest one of all she cries for you when you take a fall
My description of a mom is you, without you I dont know what I would do.

Youre the perfect example of how a mom should be
Youve always been the PERFECT MOM to me.

Continue

Author:: Mellissa Floyd
Keywords:: Poetry,Poems,Poet
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The Broken Doll

The broken doll,
Once so pretty and bright
Now sheds her tears
In the lonely night.

Her beautiful dreams
And her charming prince
Disappeared long ago
And not heard from since.

Her life will start mending
When the lesson is learned,
There was no happy ending
Her love wasnt returned

But hope is the reason
We all have for living
And someone out there
Has love for the giving

With hope in her heart,
And help from above
Let her keep looking,
She will find true love

The Tao Te Ching says - Disaster crouches beneath good fortune. Good fortune perches on the shoulder of disaster. One door of your life has closed, (disaster) look for the next one that will be opening for you. (good fortune)

Divorce is the beginning of the rest of your life. It is up to you to make that life for yourself. You do not have to settle for someone just not to be alone. You deserve better th an that, know it, believe it, live it, because if you do not believe it, no one else will either. True love will find you, if you allow it to.

Post Divorce life can be extremely frustrating as you attempt to find your path alone. Although, it is in many cases easier that trying to walk down a path with an idiot trying to trip you - quote from Rhiannon Waits

athenalouise

http://www.athenalouise.com

Author:: Athena Louise
Keywords:: Divorce, Loneliness, true love
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Friendship Poems and Haiku A New Approach!

What better way to express your love for a friend than through Poetry. Friendship poems show you really care about someone. But have you ever thought of using Haiku to show your appreciation for your friend?

Haiku, an age-old poetic form from Japan, uses very little material to create a picture in the mind's eye of the reader. In just a few short words, Haiku let you enter a scene and allow you to savor the moment. For example, consider this Friendship poem:

december afternoon --
she pours just
the right amount of cream

The poem takes place in winter. It's cold and a good friend knows exactly ho w much cream you take in your coffee. Only a very good friend would know this. And it can be expressed very uniquely and succinctly using Haiku Poetry. In just a few lines, we have a beautiful sentiment that is honest, heartfelt, and expressive.

The beautiful thing about Haiku is its nothing special attitude. Small events aren't really small at all but universes and worlds unto themselves. Friendship poems like this one resonate deeply because they capture a present moment event without using the usual western poetic devices like metaphor, simile or analog. It is what it is and this kind of straightforward sentiment is very refreshing!

Friendship poems are used to show someone you really like or love how you feel. What better way to show this than through Haiku! Here we have a memory that actually happened and can be cherished by both friends... literally forever!

Edward Weiss is a poet, author, and publisher of Wisteria Press. He has been helping students learn how to write Haiku for many years and has just released his first book Seashore Haiku! Sign up for free daily Haiku and get beautiful Haiku poems in your inbox each morning! Visit http://www.wisteriapress.com for Haiku books, lessons, articles, and more!

Author:: Edward A. Weiss
Keywords:: Friendship poems,Poetry,Haiku,Haiku Poetry,Friendship
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Catherine Wither's Poem

Catherine Withers was born in Bristol, to parents Joy & Pete
And as she grew, she turned into, a child so kind and sweet.
Time passed some more, and then before you knew it, she was older
Her journey throughout School and such, made her character much bolder.
Encouraged on, she progressed through Life, with job training along the way
Reaching a stage, where promotion was made, to Catherine, one day.
In time, youll see, the head she will be, whatever her chosen Career
Nothing better, for this go-getter, who people love so dear.
Enjoying swimming and badminton too, and listening to Enya and such

With a collection of Camberwick Green characters enjoyed very much.
In a case, they display, a wonderful array of detail and colour so fine
These are her pride and joy a grand collection built up over time.
Her Favourite foods are chinese and curry - whilst watching something funny
Enjoying holidays with a bit of culture and maybe somewhere sunny.
Right now, shes really enjoying Life and shes happy as she is
So, to you Catherine - know we all love you and dont ever lose your fizz!

I have been writing poetry for many years and regularly have it published in print. My poetry is published by Forward Press and in many other publications. So I'm now putting my poetry online.

I'm married to my husband Peter. I publish my poetry on my Blog jo-hale-poetry at jo-hale-poetry.blogspot.com/ and on 8hop.com My poetry on 8hop.com. I also have information about my poetry at www.squidoo.com/jo-hale-poetry.

Author:: Joanne Hale
Keywords:: Tribute, Birthday, Life, Times, School, Career, Catherine, Future, Hope, Favourite things, Favourite
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