Florencia: A Prose Poem, Parts 1 thru 4 of Seven Parts


The Hidden Underworld Kingdoms of the Amuc
[An Andean Peruvian Account]

A Prose Poem

Prologue: There are many kingdoms that have come and gone on earth, Blogline throughout written history, mostly documented, but there is only one kingdom, that has come, and has not gone, that has existed for eons, it is the Hidden Kingdom of the Amuc, which consist of actually four kingdoms, somewhat interconnected; but it is not on the surface of the earth, it is in the crust of the earth. I have talked to many people in the Andes, and villages, and minors, and old timers, they all believe in them, some have saw them, others were legends to live by. Some say they have blond hair, others say they have steel wings, and are a foot tall. I first head about them in 1999, when I first came to Peru, and went to the Andes, princefoundation and then I came back every year since, nine times to Peru so far, and the year is still 2006, at least for another six weeks. Anyhow, I bought a house in Lima, and one in Huancayo, in the Mantaro Valley. And then I purchased an adobe hobby farm of sorts, in the Village of San Jeronimo de Tunan, and this is when it all started. I mean this is where my story actually originated. I don’t expect anyone to believe me, but I shall nonetheless, give you the account that took place. pollenindex

Close to my property, which is about 6000-square meters, with tall adobe walls surrounding the land, perhaps three feet thick, with several small dwelling within this enclosure, is where I lived on the weekends; an old Church (1539 AD) called St. Sebastian, nearby, up the dirt road a bit. There one weekend in the month of August, I was carving out a garden in one section of my land, by one of the adobe dwellings, and I found a statue, it was carved into the liking of a midget size king, but much smaller; at the time I thought it was a goblin, but I am not in Ireland, I told myself, and it was not a fairy, although it could have been, perhaps it was something in-between, like one of those Amuc people I heard about. kutyulva

Oh well, let me get on with the story: the adobe foundation to my property was build about 130-years before I had bought the place, it went through the Pacific War, the one between Chile and Peru, about 1879 to 1883. So I thought it to be a statue of a grave marking of some sort. And it was, but it was not of the war I talk about, it was of a great Amuc that once lived. Oh yes, now we are getting into the real heart of the matter, are we not. Well, that is why I call this story, an account because that is exactly what it is. izomautok

So let me go on with the account: I dug deeper into the ground, in the silenced of the night so no one would be the wiser, twilight is always haunting and worth a good dig, and eerie it was, and it really made the spell of the digging more enchanting, smoke like figures even crossed the moon, and moonbeams shot (so it seemed), shot right down through the porthole I had made in the roof over my dig, and my head to give me light as I dug; the shadows swept like lotus–to and fro–over the gray ebbing clouds above the crown of my head, it was a warm evening, to say the least. I had even added adobe walls around the dig; thus, it was a structure now: twenty feet deep the hole was, with a rope ladder attached to the adobe walls, tub by tub for three weeks I dug and brought up dirt from the hole, piled it here and there, little mounds everywhere in my yard. Woops, I forgot to tell you, I found a gravestone, of a man, and it read in Quechua (one of the oldest languages of earth). It read, otthonszuletik

“King Niobla, of Remora (the West Kingdom) scornful heart he had, and a wicked laugh for all, he stole me for his child bride, and killed my brother, father and stirred his wine with his bones; it was best for us all he be where he lay, for I had him killed one summers day: my king of the West Kingdom of Remora, now in his dull grave; let him rest in Hell, as not to contaminate those who live beneath, lest we be his salves.” 642 AD His un-grieving wife: Florencia of Drabmol (The North Kingdom)

As I dug deeper, the walls started crumbling, that is when I found the coffin of the king, and when I opened it, he did have steel like wings, as if angelic, but they were laid to his side, perhaps he felt he could fly, they were attachable. He was no taller than a foot or more, perhaps fourteen inches, in all. And he still had his skull attached, to his neck, and deep-rooted socket for eyes in his head. I was at this time, twenty-two feet below the surface, and hence, I dug another week, another ten feet, slowly, now thirty-two feet, then at forty-feet, I found a tunnel, and it went downward, but it was cramped, I am 172-pounds, and five foot, eight inches tall, not tall for today’s, primates, but tall for the average Peruvian, and a giant according to the corpse and statue I had found. As I pushed my way through these skin tight walls, I was scared I’d be buried alive, but with a flash light I saw a few hundred feet down further (in front of me), where an item in the dirt lay, when I got to it, it was a hat, for a small females head, then I noticed foot prints, small, but I could make them out to be footprints. I was starting to push my body backwards, I had had enough of this, air was thin, and I was scared, and cramped, and going ahead I saw would be more difficult, for it was even thinner, how would I make it. Then (and I must say, there will be a lot of ‘then (s)’ in this story), I heard behind me the crumbling of the walls, I couldn’t turn around, and it would be most difficult to go forward. villanyt-szere

I did have a little shovel with me for digging; it was what I had been doing for three to four weeks now, so why not try to dig my way through to wherever the tunnel led me to, or rot where I was, and then I saw a little woman, beautiful as could be, faintly she appeared, and this is were my story comes from, not sure if I dreamt it, or was told it when I was passed out, or whatever, but when I woke up I was back outside my tunnel, in the shack I had built around the hole, it was as if I was pulled out by my feet, my shoes were off, my ankles had red marks around them.

[Opening: to the Dream]: it was in the time, perhaps the 7th century or so, a time when the kingdoms of the Mantaro Valley were captured by the Wanka Warriors, and Unishcoto, and Arwaturo along with Wariwilca were just being inhabitant (now old ruins in the Ville), it was a time when the little people, known as the Amuc, lived underground in four kingdoms, the Northern Kingdom, the Southern Kingdom (remote and small, not a fighting kingdom for the most part), the Western Kingdom know as Remora (once the most dominate of them all), which was part of the Eastern Kingdom, yet the Eastern Kingdom was the mightiest of all the kingdoms of the Amuc’s underworld at this given time, and each had its separate kings. Remora feared the Northern Kingdom, of Drabmol, and under battle, they had lost more lives, yet these two kingdoms were not completely tested to the point of one was dominating the other.


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