DEMERARA RIVERMAN – By Dmitri Allicock

riverman

DEMERARA RIVERMAN

By Dmitri Allicock

 Demerara River runs deeply where time forever flows

Tales of a forgotten age and a unique life that he knows

Heading home from Linden Town after buying supplies

The last of his generation where flashback memories lie

Descendant of the early pioneers along the river shores 

Centuries of foggy history and fascinating river folklores

River travels of paddle, steamers and the modern blend

Disappearing story of a lost time around the river bend

Plantation age of river- sugar, cocoa, coffee and cotton

Sawmills and Wismar/Rockstone Railway now forgotten

Scores of settlements and river life once vigorous breath

Where the wild now encroaches, nature’s cycle of death

River valley of hardwood trees and delicious fruits to eat

Massawa, Seine, Kunami for fishes and many bush treats

Matapee for cassava and aroma of Pepperpot on fireside

Tales of the Kanaima, Massacuraman and Jumbee inside

Balata, gold, cattle trail and a century of the Bauxite King

Punts, launches, huge bauxite ships where song bird sing

Ancestral shadows still watches this fading ember of time

Lonesome Demerara Riverman and the last uncle of mine

————–

Paruima Village Fishing

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Comments

  • Rosaliene Bacchus  On January 2, 2015 at 11:29 pm

    Your uncle must have lots of interesting stories to tell about the Demerara River.

    Loved the video clip. The natural poison kills the fish but not humans who consume the fish. I loved the narrator’s observation: “We use nature. Nature agrees with us.” Knowledge passed down for generations.

    I like, too, that the fishing expedition is a community event.

  • ndtewarie  On January 4, 2015 at 11:46 am

    Dimitri keep on writing. My 4th book “A Garden Of Happiness” is coming out soo. Here’s one of mine:

    Fishing up the Abary Creek

    On a warm July river
    Heading back
On a lazy sunny day
    Going fishing
    Near the banks
    Of the Abary Creek
    Drifting on sheer glass
    For my throw

    The motor purrs
    Toward the creek-horn
    A gator watches
    Waddling in the mud
    Looking heedless

My line tugs
    Line taut
    Rod snaps
    Let her run
    But no escape today

    The Abary waters
    Continue rolling
    To the estuary
    To the Atlantic
    To mix with
    The giant Amazon
    Once Raleigh’s dreams
    
A tiger bird
    Noisily flaps
    Awake me
    As I pass
    Mr Alligator
    Snoring
    Me too
    Out of here
    Would soon
    One of us 
    Doesn’t belong
    Maybe its me

    Thanks
    Naraine Datt

  • samantha  On January 19, 2015 at 8:08 pm

    Nice

  • Dmitri Allicock  On March 13, 2015 at 4:55 pm

    Bless you guys!

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