THE ENVIRONMENT TALKING BACK
In 2010, during an Arts and the Environment Conference staged in Guyana, I shared two poems – ‘Kona’ruk Requiem’ and ‘The Chastening of Iwokrama’. The first focused on the destruction of the Konawaruk River due to irresponsible mining in that area and the second focused on conservation and sustainable development in all walks of life.
As we celebrate another World Environment Day, I would like to share both poems but unfortunately I am still trying to retrieve the second poem which placed third in a national poetry competition to mark World Environment Day 1994.
Kona’ruk’s Requiem
riva dry
fish die
nuff nuff fly seh,
dis no lie;
riva run dry
gole is why
man aint ca’e
who goh pay;
gole pon dem mine
aal de time
mine mind mine
no good incline;
picks and spades
an suction to
bruk down riva
buil bank book;
riva ah die
fish ah die
nuff nuff fly
ah seh, dis nah lie;
cynide wata
native ah hallah
no fish no food
no transport too; …
flora fauna
ah decrease
pollution ruction
ah increase;
riva run dry
man could die
nuff cause why
dis poem cry…
(The above is part of a long poem)
The Arts and the Environment Conference was spearheaded by Dr. Michael Niblett under the auspices of the University of Warwick. The conference ran for two days, September 4 & 5, 2010, and the venue was Cara Lodge, Georgetown, Guyana. Other writers and artists shared their work. Some of those writers were Pauline Melville, Elly Niland, Oonya Kempadoo, Ian McDonald, Dave Martins, Mark McWatt and Paloma Mohamed.
As I write this article a fastidiousness overtook me, constraining me to locate that misplaced poem, discovering in the process others relating to the environment, focusing on climate change like the ‘Georgetown, a watery sound’, ‘Floodyard’, ‘Sea-de-fence-less-ness’, ‘Turn of the tide’, ‘Man-tree’, ‘Career of Grass’…
Georgetown, a watery sound
Road foh drive
boat ah sail
Wata Street Main
both aal two de same
wata rise
an bottom house sink
car tun sledge
wen brakes wax cold
(*Above is part of a long poem)
Floodyards
From de festering flood yards of Lusignan I come
Running to you cause I don’t know where else to tun
Turning to you with open arms I beg
Begging for something anything that is dry
A lil dry piece of land, a lil bit of dry food, dry clothes,
No, not for myself but for the lowering cattle
That cries in my head with a mourning unheard;
A dry piece of land for the poultry in a water where even ducks drown….
(*Above also part of a long poem)
‘Sea-de-fence-less-ness’ deals with the overtopping of the river at Craig, East Bank Demerara.
Responses to this author telephone (592) 226-0065 or email: oraltradition2002@yahoo.com
by Petamber Persaud
