POETRY PROSE LYRICS
Machu Picchu a Collage
Vagabond Voices Collage Prompt
A little Indian brave who before he was ten
Played war games in the woods with his Indian friends
And he built a dream that when he grew up
He would be a fierce warrior Indian chief. —
Jimmy Hendrix. Castles Made of Sand.
How high can the highest of Emperors be?
An Emperor of the sky, none higher in this world.
The Universe is for Gods, those who have shed their mortal coils.
To rule the land from the most elevated position, the clouds.
The ultimate vision, a sky Emperor.
“Excited, passionate, fantastical
Imagination, nor an ear and an eye
That more expected the impossible — “ W.B. Yates. Selected works. The Tower.
Ego’s folly to command hundreds, thousands to carry out thy bidding.
Splintering bones hauling their bodies and stone
over two thousand four hundred elevated meters,
their price, an Emperor’s dream.
“Whose images, in the Great Memory stored,
Come with loud cry and panting breast
To break upon sleepers rest” — W.B. Yates. Selected works. The Tower.
Travelling through Peru 2002 with my close friend Daryl, a cold perilous journey over the Andes by night train delivers us the following morning
to Cusco City, the Inca capital and seat of power for fifteenth-century Emperor Pachacuti, before heading off to Macha Picchu, four days later, a travellers Mecca.
We had given up beer for four days to acclimatise, a hangover the next day from just a couple of beers at Cusco’s high altitude was not worth it
giving me a chance to acquire new tattoos.
What do you think, an Inca Emperor?
A Nazca Lines Hummingbird tattoo. That’s another story!
“You start off in the typical atmosphere of an eastern city —
The scorching sunlight, the dusty palms, the smells of fish
And spices, and garlic, the squashy tropical fruits, the swarming
Dark faced human beings — and because you are used to it
You carry this atmosphere intact, so to speak
In your railway carriage”. — George Orwell. Homage to Catalonia.
A two-hour journey by train from Cusco to the Sacred Valley at the foot of Machu Picchu with Daryl sporting crutches due to Sciatic nerve damage.
I did not want to hike this Inca trail popular with many a traveller over days,
so I’m secretly happy for this excuse not to.
We disembark the train to carry on our journey
by shuttle bus to reach Emperor Pachacuti’s citadel.
“This is insane”! Remarks Daryl.
Death must have closely shadowed those labouring
for their great leader who transformed the Inca empire.
Reaching the misty Machu Picchu citadel immerses you in a sense of awe,
the idealistic ego of Pachacuti along with the grit of labour.
“And then in the foggy midlands it appeared,
Our mud vision, as if a rose window of mud
Had invented itself out of the glittery damp,
A gossamer wheel, concentric with its own hub
Of nebulous dirt, sullied yet lucent”. — Seamus Heaney. The Haw Lantern.
The Mud Vision.
Impressive ancient craftsmanship restored throughout the twentieth century,
still ongoing today.
Temple of the Sun, with a view of the June solstice at one end
the Pleiades at the other.
Intihuatana stone believed to be an astronomical clock
or calendar.
Inti Mach’ay and the Royal Feast of the Sun, a coming of age building, boys ears were pierced at solstice sunrise, housing water mirrors for watching the sky.
“Me, I ground the same stones for fifty years
And what I undid was never the thing I had done.
I was unrewarded as darkness at a mirror” — Seamus Heaney. The Haw Lantern. The Stone Grinder.
Referred to as “The Lost City of the Incas”,
Machu Picchu had been abandoned one hundred years after it was built, around 1450 during the Spanish conquest,
known locally, not to the Spanish conquistadors; fortunately.
“As Time went on and the desultory rife-fire rattled among
The hills, I began to wonder with increasing scepticism whether
Anything would ever happen to bring a bit of life, or rather a
Bit of death, into this cock-eyed war”. — George Orwell. Homage to Catalonia.
In 1911, explorer Hiram Bingham with the help of a local Quechua Indian boy found Machu Picchu while looking for the site of Vilcabamba previously travelled through without Bingham’s knowledge.
Bingham was impressed by fine quality Inca stonework, masters of their Ashlar technique, stones fitted tightly together without mortar, bouncing apart as if dancing during earthquakes to resettle in their original positions.
Machu Picchu sits between two fault lines.
It was now our turn to be impressed, Daryl and I, incredible architecture boggles the mind! Impressing millions who visit Inca sites around western South America.
Myself further impressed how Daryl navigated his way around Machu Picchu on crutches, adding awe to one of the New Seven Wonders of the World.
The *Natives in the forest brightly feathered
They are saying, “Forget the night.
Live with us in forests of azure.
Out here on the perimeter, there are no stars
Out here we is stoned — immaculate.” — Jim Morrison. The wasp
(Texas Radio and the Big Beat).
At this time shocking news came to Daryl and meself. Punk icon, Joe Strummer lead singer and guitarist with The Clash died of heart complications aged just 50. 22nd December 2002. R.I.P. Joe.
For Daryl. R.I.P.
James G Brennan 2021
*Natives is replacing the Spanish word Negro which Jim Morrison used so as to not offend those who do not know the correct wording Morrison used for his poetry referring to Amazonians of colour. We live in sensitive times.
Thank you Trisha Traughber for this “Collage” prompt it has been fun! Read Trisha’s engaging prompt here, do feel free to join in.
Have a look at this wonderful anthology curated by Trisha Traughber, hosting wonderful writers here at Vagabond Voices which I am fortunate enough to be included. It is a very inexpensive book, money goes to a children's charity. Thanks for your support.
Thank you as always, Trisha Traughber for giving my words a platform. 🙏🙏
Thank you all for reading and your precious time. Always. J. 🙏✨
