Wilderness Poems
The Lobo (Story)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Chapter 1
“Hey, you can do it” said Javier to Julio holding his head in his palms. “We’ll make it hermano, just like we planned, get up! Please get up!!!”
The third one, Jesus, didn’t talk, he just listened. They were crossing the Chihuahuan Desert in Mexico after breaking out from prison through the tunnel they dug, a feat that took them almost two years. It seemed to work out well- they were golden. They were working with a cartel called “Coyotes” in the past and were planning to come back to their normal routine as soon as possible and after they were done with the current obstacle. After breaking out and until this moment there were no tails behind them, new lives in front of them, and the only thing they had to do, was to make it out alive through the desert and into the forest. They were heading to the town of Linares, south east of Monterrey. It was a long walk and the desert wasn’t a happy environment. They went through one desert storm losing one of their back packs and duffle and according to the conditions they were currently facing, another storm was coming. “I can’t feel my body” said Julio with awful smile on his face, “my stomach hurts and estoy orinando sangre” he added in such pain prompting Javier to look closely into Julio’s pupils. Javier slowly turned Julio’s head from one side to another looking into his eyes, searching for the answer. “When did you first notice that you were peeing blood?” Javier asked in a doctor like tone. “Hoy en la manana” Julio answered through his clenched teeth. After examining his friend for few minutes, Javier asked Julio to lie down on his back and with fingers on his right arm pushed his stomach down in few places like a doctor. Julio screamed at first and silenced him self quickly, breathing air through his teeth with little saliva bubbles appearing in both corners of his mouth. “Ah! Me duele!” Julio cried in excruciating agony, cold sweat appearing on his forehead. Julio’s face and almost his whole body turned greenish yellow in front of Javier’s eyes. “Déjenme solo, por favor” said Julio with his eyes closed. “No” cried Javier “no, no, no, no, no- I will never leave you my brother, you will be ok, and we will be ok. I know it hurts. We are a little bit lost, but we will find our way, we always did, remember?” Javier smiled looking down at his friend. “You call it a little bit?” said Jesus quietly into Javier’s ear. “Are you out of your fucking mind my friend, don’t you see what’s going on? We are coming back to the same place for the fourth time now, we are fucking lost”.
They had planed it for month – details of how it would all work out, and calculated how much food and water they would need. They calculated wrong. The Chihuahuan Desert is the third largest in the western hemisphere and to cross it, you must be ready for anything. Jesus wasn’t talking much as he knew something bad was coming their way and he knew they were not ready for it. “Get up cabron” said Javier with irritation in his voice. “We need to move, don’t let us hang here” he added.
In the prison they had escaped from a week ago, everyone called them “threejays” (as number 3 and letter J). They were always together for many years. Stealing cars and reselling them, trafficking people to the US. That was how they made their living and what they were known and recognized for among their towns. They were the best, on top of the list, professionals with experience you can’t lose or forget. Making money then and now landing them in this extremely fucked up situation. It was their eighth day in the wasteland. Their food was almost all gone now and they had just a little bit of water, gullets and one flask filled with tequila. Just enough to keep them going. They were crossing the mountains now and they expected to come across some highways if everything went well and according to plan. This mountain area of the desert they were crossing was especially dry and cold in the evenings and it was hard to predict when they would reach a little pond or even a puddle to restock their water supply.
The three of them were stocky, well built, and had that dying to punch in the mouth look and aggressive attitude of a boxer. Nobody in prison dared to give them a hard time, after they taught one of the inmates a lesson. In the morning, prison guards found the inmate made a lesson of in his bunk bed covered with a blanket, his body disjointed. They had cut him up with glass and knives made from spoons.
“Get up, let’s go hermano” Javier said gently now, almost whispering. “I think we need to move, and I have feeling we are being followed” Jesus added looking at his friends and then far in the distance. “Mierda!” exclaimed Julio trying to get up.
......
Lost in the forest
by Altaf Murtaza
For a spiritual wanderer
For the one who has
A long cherished desire
Of spending some parts
Of life in the midst of
Dense trees and turfs
It would be fascinating
For the mastery of serenity
A dream coming true
For the enlightenment of austerity
......
Wilder Places
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
swooping screeching gulls
above crashing roar of waves
fiery red fox streaks
painted lady flies
new colors in once green halls
in the age of fall
blue frogs go leaping
and puddles make a big splash
......
Wilder Places
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
swooping screeching gulls
above crashing roar of waves
fiery red fox streaks
painted lady flies
new colors in once green halls
in the age of fall
blue frogs go leaping
and puddles make a big splash
......
Lost in the forest
by Altaf Murtaza
For a spiritual wanderer
For the one who has
A long cherished desire
Of spending some parts
Of life in the midst of
Dense trees and turfs
It would be fascinating
For the mastery of serenity
A dream coming true
For the enlightenment of austerity
......
The Lobo (Story)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Chapter 1
“Hey, you can do it” said Javier to Julio holding his head in his palms. “We’ll make it hermano, just like we planned, get up! Please get up!!!”
The third one, Jesus, didn’t talk, he just listened. They were crossing the Chihuahuan Desert in Mexico after breaking out from prison through the tunnel they dug, a feat that took them almost two years. It seemed to work out well- they were golden. They were working with a cartel called “Coyotes” in the past and were planning to come back to their normal routine as soon as possible and after they were done with the current obstacle. After breaking out and until this moment there were no tails behind them, new lives in front of them, and the only thing they had to do, was to make it out alive through the desert and into the forest. They were heading to the town of Linares, south east of Monterrey. It was a long walk and the desert wasn’t a happy environment. They went through one desert storm losing one of their back packs and duffle and according to the conditions they were currently facing, another storm was coming. “I can’t feel my body” said Julio with awful smile on his face, “my stomach hurts and estoy orinando sangre” he added in such pain prompting Javier to look closely into Julio’s pupils. Javier slowly turned Julio’s head from one side to another looking into his eyes, searching for the answer. “When did you first notice that you were peeing blood?” Javier asked in a doctor like tone. “Hoy en la manana” Julio answered through his clenched teeth. After examining his friend for few minutes, Javier asked Julio to lie down on his back and with fingers on his right arm pushed his stomach down in few places like a doctor. Julio screamed at first and silenced him self quickly, breathing air through his teeth with little saliva bubbles appearing in both corners of his mouth. “Ah! Me duele!” Julio cried in excruciating agony, cold sweat appearing on his forehead. Julio’s face and almost his whole body turned greenish yellow in front of Javier’s eyes. “Déjenme solo, por favor” said Julio with his eyes closed. “No” cried Javier “no, no, no, no, no- I will never leave you my brother, you will be ok, and we will be ok. I know it hurts. We are a little bit lost, but we will find our way, we always did, remember?” Javier smiled looking down at his friend. “You call it a little bit?” said Jesus quietly into Javier’s ear. “Are you out of your fucking mind my friend, don’t you see what’s going on? We are coming back to the same place for the fourth time now, we are fucking lost”.
They had planed it for month – details of how it would all work out, and calculated how much food and water they would need. They calculated wrong. The Chihuahuan Desert is the third largest in the western hemisphere and to cross it, you must be ready for anything. Jesus wasn’t talking much as he knew something bad was coming their way and he knew they were not ready for it. “Get up cabron” said Javier with irritation in his voice. “We need to move, don’t let us hang here” he added.
In the prison they had escaped from a week ago, everyone called them “threejays” (as number 3 and letter J). They were always together for many years. Stealing cars and reselling them, trafficking people to the US. That was how they made their living and what they were known and recognized for among their towns. They were the best, on top of the list, professionals with experience you can’t lose or forget. Making money then and now landing them in this extremely fucked up situation. It was their eighth day in the wasteland. Their food was almost all gone now and they had just a little bit of water, gullets and one flask filled with tequila. Just enough to keep them going. They were crossing the mountains now and they expected to come across some highways if everything went well and according to plan. This mountain area of the desert they were crossing was especially dry and cold in the evenings and it was hard to predict when they would reach a little pond or even a puddle to restock their water supply.
The three of them were stocky, well built, and had that dying to punch in the mouth look and aggressive attitude of a boxer. Nobody in prison dared to give them a hard time, after they taught one of the inmates a lesson. In the morning, prison guards found the inmate made a lesson of in his bunk bed covered with a blanket, his body disjointed. They had cut him up with glass and knives made from spoons.
“Get up, let’s go hermano” Javier said gently now, almost whispering. “I think we need to move, and I have feeling we are being followed” Jesus added looking at his friends and then far in the distance. “Mierda!” exclaimed Julio trying to get up.
......
