poets and poetry || for the great house at agualta vale

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FOR THE GREAT HOUSE AT AGUALTA VALE Author(s): DOREEN O'CONNOR Source: Caribbean Quarterly, Vol. 30, No. 1, Poets and Poetry (MARCH, 1984), pp. 60-61 Published by: University of the West Indies and Caribbean Quarterly Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/40653523 . Accessed: 15/06/2014 19:07 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. . University of the West Indies and Caribbean Quarterly are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Caribbean Quarterly. http://www.jstor.org This content downloaded from 185.2.32.21 on Sun, 15 Jun 2014 19:07:49 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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FOR THE GREAT HOUSE AT AGUALTA VALEAuthor(s): DOREEN O'CONNORSource: Caribbean Quarterly, Vol. 30, No. 1, Poets and Poetry (MARCH, 1984), pp. 60-61Published by: University of the West Indies and Caribbean QuarterlyStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/40653523 .

Accessed: 15/06/2014 19:07

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

University of the West Indies and Caribbean Quarterly are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve andextend access to Caribbean Quarterly.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 185.2.32.21 on Sun, 15 Jun 2014 19:07:49 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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POEMS

PARABLE III

You know that I can't swim. Not a stroke to save my life. But I love the water; like to feel it pressing on my skin; like to pretend a going to push off forward and feel all my skin pressing against it.

Well this night I was pressing my body against this cool cool water. But it wasn't clear blue sea water; It was kinda blackish; like the water you get in the creeks in Guyana. And I was minding my business and thinking about God and about life how it great sometimes, when out of the corner of my eye I glimpse a hand stretching right up out of the water. I feel my heart stop. It wasnt any ordinary hand you know. It was a big big hand every finger almost the size of me. And the skin wasnt smooth. The hand make out of frog skin1 and it just stretching up there out of the water.

A trying to decide what to do and quickly start thinking about how to run. But my whole body was shivering and a suddenly realize that the water heavy. You ever try to run in the sea? Same time is as if a great mind read my thoughts and full up my head with the truth: the hand big, one finger as big as me; I can't swim; the water heavy and it wide. And the voice just speak inside me and say "You too fool fool; go on and press you body 'gainst the water and enjoy youself. For if the hand come, it gwine catch you no matter what you do. And if it dont decide to come then you dont have no worries."

I look over the other side where a big white rock come up out of the water and a see a girl sitting on the rock holding a child on her knee. I dont know how a didnt notice her before; unless she wasnt there before. But a watch her and look at the baby and a notice even from that distance how the child favour my husband. I just look away; and before a really think anything a find myself looking at the hand, the big frog skin hand; and a feel a know something a didnt know before.

VELMA POLLARD 1978

FOR THE GREAT HOUSE AT AGUALTA VALE

Busha house light up bright tonight till it mek the hill-top look like heaven. Busha backra missis come today from Europe France Paris. Hear say she is movie -star and love nuff bright light. But though the great house shining bright tonight

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dem lights not enough for the valley still cane black sugar black rum black. The madam going back to Paris France Europe

II Ave Maria!

In the parish of my birth is the valley of my death. The great storms have passed me over, the fires have left me unscorched to slowly choke out my death in dusty rotting days like an old foul-smelling woman Crouching by the corner of some stagnant gutter Ave Maria!

Ill

Sing your songs to the virgin lady if hymns can remake you and rebuild your powdery columns but before the crumbling is complete I will dance a new dance across your dusty floorboards like the mouse who knows that the cat's been had. Down the hillside cane still burning in dem old canefields and young cane still sprouting in that green valley.

DOREEN O'CONNOR

This content downloaded from 185.2.32.21 on Sun, 15 Jun 2014 19:07:49 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions