Willow Walk

message not messenger

you freeze the egg but still expect to see

the final bird unfold a bright blue wing

open its beak hop on a branch and sing

without restraint as it was meant to be

by complex nature set in plain degree

with hard compulsion still we have to fling

each accusation that's the strangest thing

of all the monsters that we have set free

back in the heart of all we keep alive

are means of sacrifice to gods unknown

who might observe our little jokes and crimes

and want to punish us or to deprive

our victories of hope and leave the bone

for us to gnaw and waste away the times

The Golden Future of Bauxite

John Maxwell

Should you wish to evaluate the management ethic and the rarefied aesthetic values of those who manage the Jamaican bauxite industry you need go no further than Roxburgh, a spot quite near the geographic centre of Jamaica and which happens to be an important place in Jamaican history. Roxburgh used to be a place of tranquility and peace, of big old guangos and expansive views in all directions – of the rolling green hills of Manchester, fatally composed of bauxite. On Melrose Hill, before the turn off to Roxburgh to the south there once was a ravine cut through metres of solid bauxite, dark red, like living flesh, frozen. At Roxburgh – off the beaten track like most other bauxitic obscenities – the Jamaica Bauxite Institute, – JBI –The Commissioner Of Mines and Geology–CMG – the mining companies and the Jamaican bauxite workers have combined to create a shambles out of what is supposed to be a national monument. A shambles, in the old meaning of the word is a slaughterhouse, a vision of bloody confusion, an end to order and civilisation. So it is at Roxburgh, the birthplace of Norman Manley, the man most of us revere as the Father of the Nation. But there must be others who don't share that respect and reverence; and their appetites have been unleashed at Roxburgh, where green tranquility has been butchered and gouged by men seeking to despoil this shrine. There's no accounting for tastes nor for power. I don't know who ordered this disaster, who approved it, or who drove the bulldozers. I don't want to know. What I want to know is – Who will protect the public interest?

tropic death

absence of winter yet the tree must die

no sign of frost but still the bird grows old

warmth surely but at the end all cold

 

something must come at last to chill the eye

ending the courage of even the bold

absence of winter yet the tree must die

 

leaves falling slowly under the blue sky

as in a story you once wanted told

all shrivelled brown not one turned red or gold

absence of winter yet the tree must die

up the long path

we bear sweet water in a firm green gourd

across a chasm before day fully clean

begins the business that we cannot screen

from hateful eyes yet we have truly scored

an honest mark of what no one could hoard

the patient clearing of this final scene

with the refreshment of what went between

so that you listen for that early chord

now drink your fill and do not fear to say

the needed words there is no better rule

that you may follow in this blessed place

time now has come for you to make your way

achieve the good for which you went to school

and teach them all the true meaning of grace

clarity or truth

you think there is no need to measure fact

with solemn words or set out note by note

with clarity or truth since all's intact

 

within the bounds that you have to react

against the crime that set this world afloat

you think there is no need to measure fact

 

nor any purpose that is not attacked

by solemn legions so you must emote

with clarity or truth since all's intact

 

and no false signal could from this detract

nor any evil one have cause to gloat

you think there is no need to measure fact

 

but no proud demon was there when you cracked

nor was there any thing left to devote

with clarity or truth since all's intact

 

in this small world of the final impact

when we name he who wins the truest goat

you think there is not need to measure fact

with clarity or truth since all's intact

how we’re assessed

you name us victims and impute the blame

most subtly to our lack of honest soul

seeing we have no better truer name

 

no one in your department bears the shame

so well as we do lacking better goal

you name us victims and impute the blame

 

so carefully it seems a sort of game

in which the loser has the most control

seeing we have no better truer name

 

to give the process it is much the same

in night or morning though we might cajole

you name us victims and impute the blame

 

in ways that make the wildest fox seem tame

and us most guilty though we paid the toll

seeing we have no better truer name

 

to keep from earning the payment of fame

when we have reached the bottom of the hole

you name us victims and impute the blame

seeing we have no better truer name

rebirth of truth

once we escape the bodyguard of lies

the world is changed and all the music there

though muffled once now seems to fill the air

with complex tones there are things we devise

to capture fact and bring it under eyes

most able to discern the true affair

scrutinise nature analyse the sphere

those who describe are those we call the wise

now past the moment when we were afraid

of shadows that reminded of the grave

waiting for naughty boys who dared to speak

first out of turn we view the prompt parade

of urgent messengers pretending brave

ready to yield the first blow to the meek

The Enduring Curse of Bauxite

John Maxwell

Almost everything you thought you knew about bauxite is a lie, beginning with the Authorised Version of how the Industry began. 'Although deposits of aluminous red earth have been known to occur in the Tertiary Limestone areas (which covers two thirds of the land surface of Jamaica) since the 1820's, it was not until the 1940's that their economic significance as an ore of aluminum was recognised."

That's not as bad as the garbage disseminated in various quarters, including schools, which attributes the 'discovery' to one of Jamaica's merchant barons in the 1940s. According to that story the merchant, who owned land in St. Ann, noticed that his crops were not doing well on red earth and sent some away to be analysed. And presto! a bauxite industry.

The very first Government Geologist, J.G.Sawkins, had mapped some of the major deposits and discussed their possible importance in his official Notes of 1867. And Aluminium Ltd of London had had its agents mapping and getting options on land in Jamaica since 1936.

The discovery of mineral wealth in the Third World has usually been the precursor to communal strife up to and including civil war (Nigerian oil, Congolese cobalt, uranium, oil, etc., etc.,) and social dissolution. Jamaica has been no different, only slightly less bloody.

Mining usually destroys the environment, fragments communities, intensifies inequality and enhances criminal activity. Bauxite has disfigured the landscape, opened land to illegal deforestation and increased soil erosion. The dust nuisance from mining and transportating bauxite is spread wide as are the asthma and other collateral medical conditions. The fallout is much greater and more severe in the neighbourhood of alumina refineries. The toxic effusions of these hellholes destroys the roofs of houses, furniture, livestock and most shameful of all, the lungs of childre Red mud polluted water contributes to hypertension, stroke and early death But all this is just a start, a sample, of the enduring curse of bauxite, that magic mineral that only 50 years ago was going to be the engine of our development, was going to make us all rich and happy.

ceremonial magic

just name the monster and it bites your head

there's no protection from the angry crowd

once you have spoken and seen them uncowed

by tricks and weapons now is time for dread

too late for you as all your guards have fled

and you have gone far past what was allowed

all you can do is laugh at the last cloud

saying that there is time when all are dead

for those who have the duty to report

what you have done this unrelenting score

might drive them mad if the had open ears

but others wait to bring you into court

and say those words all know that you abhor

just loud enough to provoke all to tears

not empty honours

not empty honours of the noble fool

but simple dignity and scent of earth

laughing at fears of drought and angry dearth

 

no wise man sitting on a gilded stool

to praise the omen or announce the birth

not empty honours of the noble fool

 

but the plain lesson of the oldest school

take proper time for tears and time for mirth

give praise only to those who earn their worth

not empty honours of the noble fool