MACKENZIE

The Fortunes of Bauxite

18 Poems

By Dmitri Allicock

THE POLARIS ON THE RIVER

An image of Upper Demerara seems so near

It looks like yesterday but it’s about 50 years

Like the breath of a whisper or a deep sigh

I can feel the river and the Polaris going by

I can hear the boat coming into view

Passing Mackenzie under the skies of blue

From the shore I see herons flapping

The boat passing and the water lapping

In the distance I can hear the horn blow

The fortunes of the bauxite king, aglow

The Polaris on the calm river moving along

A golden time of a Demerara bauxite song

I see the Captain dressed in elegant white

A Watooka Child in his care shining bright

And from the western shore I wave to and fro

A salute to the lovely Polaris as I watch her go.

RAILWAY SLEEPER Beneath the sunny Upper Demerara Sky Remnants of the railway and sleepers lie I can almost feel the railway ties tremble The bauxite cars clangs as they assemble

Getting ready to move the ore by the ton The whistle of engine when it starts to run And the echoing of the engine in the mood The rattling sounds of empty cars to sooth

From the railway sleepers, I believe I see The railway of bauxite that will always be

Rail of steel brightly shining and without rust Sleepers baking in the sun and covered in dust

Wishing the cars will return filled beyond the rim When day is done and the Mackenzie light turns dim

The sleepers will once more awake upon the grave

Welcoming the bauxite train in the daylight wave.

TREMBLING TRACKS

The days of trembling tracks

Of Upper Demerara, way back

Whistle and thunder that excite

Laden cars coming with bauxite

Thick smoke of engine in mood

A rattling song of heart to soothe.

LAST TRAIN HOME

Lonesome Locomotive sitting on the line Eternally left, beacon of bauxite ore enshrine

Hot and sweaty world so silent and still Hush graveyard absent reverberating thrill

Pistons and wheels rusting on the tracks Miles of lines and cars gone for scraps

Scintilla of revered Pullman and travelling folk Rattling rhythm of wheels and gushing smoke

Farewell wave from mines like Arrowcane

Fortunes of Bauxite, Gold, Rice and Sugarcane

Wistful corroding workhorse of golden gleam Heyday of healthier times and kinder dreams

Last load of robust Mainline delivered so well

Hoots and clangs where flash back memories dwell Century of bauxite mining and Upper Demerara’s past

Deservingly rest dear friend, home at last.

SHADOWS OF ALUMINA Silhouette of the Alumina Plant ghostly glow

Where shadows of thousands once flow Graveyard since 1982, absent toiling horde Encroaching jungle reclaims without a word

British Guiana’s largest investment of 1961

Processing Alumina by the thousands of tons Crushing, grinding bauxite into a smooth slurry

Digesting, caustic soda and calcination in a hurry

Embedded 100 feet deep, massive settling tanks Rusting tall along Upper Demerara’s river bank

Bauxite ore to rich pure alumina powder of lily white Shipped to smelters abroad then aluminum so right

9 million power station supplying town with electricity Countless Jobs and brighter future of less fragility Traffic of hope and echoes where light once beam

A picture and sad story of a time with kinder dreams.

SAGUENAY- SHIPS OF THE SUN Not so long ago, along Demerara’s way Passed the many ships of the Saguenay I remember their names began with sun On the river where the calm waters run

The Sunwalker, Sungate, Sunray ships The Sundora, Sunhenderson, on my lips I remember the Sunvictor, the Sunhill The Sunbrayton and their horns’ thrill

Ships of the Saguenay loaded with cargo That brighter day when their horns blow

Alumina and the best calcined bauxite ore And the ships of the sun will pass no more.

HORN OF THE SHIP

The horn of the bauxite ship blows

Clearing the way as the river flows

A century of bauxite, and the horn

In 1916, the bauxite king was born

Rhythm of Upper Demerara’s chime

The fortune of bauxite and that time

A heart wrenching boom and a thrill

Echoes of life flows on the river still

Shadow of a ship passing in the light

Swells of the waves as it sails from sight.

A BAUXITE KILN [Circa 1950] A rotary bauxite kiln spinning slow

Upper Demerara’s bauxite again glow The steel kilns lined with insulated bricks A Demerara Bauxite’s clock slowly ticks

Ore washed and carried by conveyor belts Kiln so hot that the pure bauxite can melt

Belts on wheels laden with bauxite to crush Then to the kiln with smoke stacks that gush

Smoke of every color bellowing in the sky The Demerara River running closely by

Dried bauxite on the belts from the Mills Guyana’s RASC supercalcined is the best still

Ore in the kiln heated to 3000 degrees or more Guyana bauxite was the world standard for sure Grade Supercalcined bauxite for the ships of afar A Bauxite kiln spinning when Demba was the star.

OVERBURDEN Overburden of the mines and bauxite hills

Birds sings but quiet as a graveyard and still Upper Demerara, Bauxite, the sun, the rain

No more hums of the draglines and the trains

Open mining and the thunder of dynamic blast One 100 years of bauxite and memories to last Men with spade and steam shovel digging deep

That precious clay of the earth that they seek

A rugged land of hills and the lakes of blue No practice of land reclamation, that is true

The overburden cast aside and left to rest Song of bauxite was Upper Demerara’s best.

SWIRLS O’ER DUSTY WORLD

Sailing twirls of bauxite and Alumina dust

Descending on homes and lungs with gush

Grey, silver, brown, black and even pink

Bellowing chimney with pollution of stink

Fine powder making vision obscure

Frustration and temper to reassure

Vegetation of life stifle in a dusty world

Uncertain future when bauxite no longer swirls.

DRAGLINE BUCKET A dragline bucket of Upper Demerara’s past And I think of the boom of a dynamite blast After drilling for samples of the bauxite ore

The land prepared and cleared after they were sure

Salvageable wood taken then a cleansing by fire Before the overburden and the rich bauxite desire

Then came the blasting and the digging of sand The mighty dragline lifting overburden so grand

Bucket after bucket along Demerara River fountain Digging open pits and building sandy mountains

Draglines working tirelessly in sun or rain Digging deep to extract pay dirt for the trains

The rhythm of Upper Demerara’s bauxite mines Left in the sun, mighty cathedrals of sand enshrine A dragline bucket now discarded along the railway And still full of treasured memories that will stay.

SANDS OF MACKENZIE

“I always built, alas, on weak and shifting sand…”

Overburden and former bauxite hills of sand Now Upper Demerara’s playground so grand

Mountains of white sand as soft as sifted flour The cathedrals to mining and striking towers

The gleam in the sun of that midday squint

Changing colors of time and now a grayest tint Children playgrounds for sliding and tumbling fun The shifting sands of delight, warmed by the sun

Nature embrace abandoned mines and reclaim

Nectar of the fat poke tree calls you, come again The joyful sands of an Upper Demerara’s day

Casting spells of memories of my childhood play.

HEADING UP THE MINES Upper Demerara and a mines road

The water and time have long erode A treasured sight that will never die

Hills of sand that will not say goodbye

Along this bauxite mines road in the sun Hums of the draglines where the river runs

We must travel pass the overburden of sand Deep into the heart of Upper Demerara’s Land

I think of the dust, the blistering sun and the rain Mines like Three Friends, Kara Kara and Arrowcane I remember the powerful high pressure monitor jet

The helmeted bauxite workers and their sweat

Vehicles of the Company painted yellow in the light The reddish clay of rich bauxite, an amazing sight And along this mines road my spirit will always be

Flying like an Upper Demerara song bird wild and free.

A BOAT NAMED SURIPANNA

A boat named after the Suripanna Creek The echoes of yesterday once more speak

Ready to run with the Upper Demerara tide And was another of Watooka’s fine boat ride

The Suripanna from the boat house pulls free The open calm waters of the Demerara I see The engine hums and the river breeze blows In a swish of the waves, the Suripanna goes

Once upon a time, going upriver in the sun Perks of the Watooka Club and loads of fun

Slicing thru the river trail in the forest of green Way up the Demerara where the water runs clean.

A WATOOKA CLASSROOM OF 1966 Watooka School and the glory of Demba’s bauxite It is the year 1966 in the Demerara’s morning light

Dawn of Guyana’s Independence for precious hearts And these Mackenzie born children will soon depart

A private school where the children of Watooka thrive Still located along the old road called Riverside Drive

A scintilla of the school desk of proper and strict rules Their careful preparation before Mackenzie High School

It was 50 years to date of bauxite’s kinder dreams For these children just another beautiful day it seems The echoes of jubilation on 1966 Independence Skies Was soon followed by the 1971 Nationalization of July

These dear children and also Guyana’s bright stars Would also soon leave for the forever lands of afar

In their hearts a place where dreams will always belong A Watooka Classroom and a treasured bauxite song.

A WATOOKA WINDOW VIEW Pour some Jamoon wine in a glass

And have a seat and think of the past It’s the Watooka Guest house in the light

Upper Demerara’s best and an historical sight

Born of bauxite in the land of sun and rain A view of time through these window panes It was the club house when Demba was king

I see the golf course, the pool and the birds sing

I see the Polaris, Dorabesci, and the Suripanna in the dock

I can also hear the sweet ticking of the 1960s time clock Reflecting from these hardwood walls of ease and leisure

A magnificent house for the Demba’s staff of pleasure

I see the river, the road called Watooka Riverside Drive And way up that lovely roadway the bountiful dairy farm I’ll stand and with my glass of Jamoon wine and make a

toast Honoring where comfort and the golden memories are

the host.

CACKATARA STILL FLOWS [Linden, Upper Demerara- Guyana 2016]

Today, Cackatara Creek is barely a small stream It’s historical significance to Linden but a dream

But Cackatara it was when the bauxite king was born In 1916, the glory of Upper Demerara and the horn

Before it became Mackenzie, Cackatara was its name The symbol of Guyana’s bauxite, fortunes and fame

Cackatara once ran from Kara Kara Creek to the river Passing in front of the Bauxite Plant and a life giver

My great grandparents lived on its banks before 1910 And moved along with many other relatives back then

Grave of my great grandfather, David, beneath the shed The area developed and to Mackenzie, in 1918 it led

So it was Mackenzie after the 1916 death of George Bain Living on for 100 years thru decline, fortune and fame

And the mostly filled in Sweet Cackatara still flows Trickling pass those forgotten souls and history as it goes.

CHILD OF BAUXITE In the land of bauxite and the horn

There is that place where I was born Just a few yards away, the Demerara flow The dear 1925 Mackenzie Hospital aglow

Upper Demerara and land of treasured roots

Where I first learned of life and the truth The blessings of love and family all around

A place that is my sanctified ground

Time have passed and the birds have flown The river still runs softly where life was sewn The seed that was planted now bears fruits

A celebration of peace and happiness of my roots

And, no matter where I have roamed

I will never forget the place once called home And on the wings of love and heartstrings of gold

A place in the sun of my birthplace to behold.

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In memory of my father Stanley Allicock [1920- 2000] who worked as a diesel mechanic for 47 years with the

Bauxite Company of Upper Demerara.

The end.