Open Poetry #45 |
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A Lady of Guyana |
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AncientHippie Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411Surfing the Cosmic Flow |
A kaleidoscope of colour and sound: here, a grove of bamboo poles waving strips of bright cloth call for the blessing of revered and ancient Gods on an East Indian wedding... there, the explosion of Stabroek Market scatters vendors' stalls across the old Dutch square. Papaws and mangoes vie with books, tee-shirts, music tapes and CDs: the sound of Bollywood competes culturally with urgent soca and hip-hop as stall-owners musically mark their ethnic roots. Beyond the Clock Tower the Demerara flows in muddy splendour patiently supporting motley bum-boats, freighters, fishing boats, and the occasional Amerindian dugout. The ghosts of the Jonestown dead wander here, betrayed by their leader's selfish view of Heaven. Miles away, up the brooding Berbice River, several hours walk from the nearest village, a little black woman, now past seventy, tends her neat garden of borabean, squash, bokchoy, mango, fiery bird pepper, banana, papaw, and avocado. Long ago, as a valued friend and domestic, she travelled with her "Mistuh" and "Mistress" to live in Trinidad and Delhi, and to visit the islands of Tobago, and far-off Phuket. In her sparse hut mementoes:- fabrics, carvings, batiks, knick-knacks haggled over, and hard won by this frugal lady, in the bright markets of Sarojini, Dilihut, Khan, Yashwant, and the packed streets of Patong. Her photo album has pride of place, and she smiles as she sees, once again, her two blue-eyed Northern children, remembering diapers, laughter, bruises, and fairy tales:- kisses, and "Good night, Venus. We love you." The distances are great, but the memories are as close as our hearts. Sutra 22: Anger directed at you is not necessarily about you: always consider the Source. |
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© Copyright 2009 James D. Fanning - All Rights Reserved | |||
GBride Senior Member
since 2009-07-02
Posts 538 |
Ah, stories of distent lands and exotic people, just the thing while I sit here on Sunday morrning drinking coffee listening to Mozart. And what a tale you tell. A verbal Natonal Geographic. |
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Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
"A verbal Natonal Geographic" Jim, ditto that!!~L |
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AncientHippie Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411Surfing the Cosmic Flow |
Lori and GBride: I consider myself so very fortunate to have had the opportunity to travel and live in the countries of which I write. If I could live my life again, I would not change any of it. Best regards, Jim Sutra 25: Remember that a pile of ordure is simply that: Seek not to give it meaning. |
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shalisadefa Member
since 2009-08-13
Posts 114 |
I see that you have engraved the memories of Guyana not only in your mind, but in your heart and your soul as well! I see that you even mention Jonestown. Yes challenging times...Guyana in the 70ies and 80ies! With every word you describe it's Guyana I envisualize (I have never been there btw although it's next door) |
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AncientHippie Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411Surfing the Cosmic Flow |
shalisadefa: Thank you for your kind comments. I spent the years 1986 to 1989 in Georgetown. My only son was born there. It was (and is) a fascinating country with so much potential, but so much inequality and strife! Good memories and good friends. I think you would find it similar to Surinam, but perhaps a little less civilised. Jim Sutra 30: Language reflects the Truth of one’s Reality: listen carefully when others speak. |
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