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Guyanese-Canadian Author Ken Puddicombe, Immigrant nostalgia for the old country, Poem “The Punt Trench” by Ken Puddicombe, Poetry Collection Unfathomable And Other Poems by Ken Puddicombe (Canada 2020)

My Poetry Corner August 2020 features the poem “The Punt Trench” from the first poetry collection, Unfathomable And Other Poems (2020), by Guyanese-Canadian author Ken Puddicombe. Since retiring from his accounting work, Puddicombe has been pursuing his love of writing. To date, he has published two novels and a short story collection.
His poetry collection is filled with nostalgia of his boyhood days in Guyana. As an immigrant living in Canada since 1971, he writes in “Nostalgic”:
Immigrants. As they grow older, the yearning For a return to the old country increases. Memories plague them, of a childhood in a familiar spot. Any little incident will send their senses reeling and take them back in time and place.
The punt trench is a recurring memory in Puddicombe’s poems. For readers unfamiliar with Guyana’s coastal lowlands of sugar cane fields crisscrossed by canals or trenches, a legacy of Dutch colonizers (1648-1814), a punt or cane-punt is a flat-bottomed iron barge for transporting harvested canes along the system of canals or punt trenches from field to factory. About 20 feet long, 8 feet wide, and 3 or 4 feet deep, the punt is drawn by a mule (in the early days) or tractor, attached by a long chain, moving along the punt-trench earth dam or unsurfaced road. The punt trench also serves as a drainage canal during low tides and periods of flooding, controlled by kokers or sluices.

Puddicombe’s memories of the punt trench are somber and haunting. The title poem, “Unfathomable,” the longest narrative poem with seventeen stanzas, recounts the tale of the unfathomable death of his playful and daring friend—crushed between two punts moving along in a convoy on their way to the sugar factory.
The punts in the mule-train linked With short lengths of chain hooked Into metal clasps welded at the front And rear of each craft. Six mules up front Kept the convoy moving, each animal Bound to a punt by a length of chain. Lincoln was clinging to the connecting Chain between two punts in the middle Of the convoy, hanging on for a ride, When the distance narrowed swiftly Between the punts.
“Drowning” describes the time the author/poet almost lost his life in the cocoa-brown waters of the punt trench. Though he could not swim like the older boys, he plunged into the deep / Murky, swirling pit of the Punt Trench, made murkier still when his feet stirred up the mud and silt at the bottom of the trench.
On his first return visit to Guyana in 1987 after a sixteen-year absence, Puddicombe questions whether one could ever really go back to a time and place long gone. In his poem, “Middle Road,” the street where he had once lived, he finds The bridge over the Punt Trench where / I fell into the water now collapsed, the Trench / Filled in with debris.
In the featured poem, “The Punt Trench,” he reflects on the changes over time in four stanzas, each beginning with a different theme: Memory, Despair, Change, and Hope. His Memory of the punt trench as Fast moving torrential / Waves flashing through / The Koker to the raging Atlantic is no more. Instead, he feels only despair.
Despair. The Punt Trench is a dumping Ground filled with debris and Castoffs. Empty shell of a car. Rusting frame of a bicycle. Bags of Garbage piled in mounds. A dog’s bloated Carcass. Tall paragrass and wild eddo bush Reaching to the sky.
The punt trench, once a haunting memory of youthful joy and dread, is now a symbol of the decay of a neighborhood and of a nation; of promises not yet realized. It is not the change promised by the founding leaders of the independent nation.
Change. From the Koker in Public Road All the way to the Backdam The Punt Trench is now Independence Boulevard. Every time the breeze zips Across from the north-east, It reeks and fills my Nostrils. Repulsive Odours.
Only birdsong brings the poet Hope that Life goes on!
As the author and poet acknowledges in “You Can Never Go Back,” the final poem in the collection, the places of his idyllic youth have changed or no longer exist. People are no longer the same. Yet…some among us grasp a dream of returning to a time we consider our days of glory. Life goes on, for better or for worse, with or without us.
To read the complete featured poem, “The Punt Trench,” and learn more about the work of Ken Puddicombe, go to my Poetry Corner August 2020.
“Promises not yet realized”……and it’s been a long time now since most British colonies became independent.
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John, sad to say that the 54-year-old independent nation has been plagued by successive corrupt practices among government leaders and a persistent divisive racist/ethnic politics. The country’s newly-discovered vast oil reserves increase the stakes for even more corruption.
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Your usual insightful analysis, Rosaliene. Jamaican friends of ours who spent their working lives in England returned to the land of their birth soon after retirement.
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Thanks, Derrick 🙂 It happens. Some years ago, my mother, who left Guyana in 1972, was also nostalgic about spending her last years of her life there.
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But “you can never go home.” it’s never the same!
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I agree, Ken. My mother has been out of touch with the changes taking place over the years. Happily, she stopped talking about moving back.
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Essential work such as that described here will perhaps obtain greater respect due to its dangerous nature, whether from injury or disease. I suppose this might be considered a positive outgrowth of the pandemic if it leads to better working conditions and compensation, as well as dignity. Thanks, Rosaliene.
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Dr. Stein, I’m not sure what you’re referring to when you speak of dangerous, essential work.
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I should have been more precise. I was referring to the first story’s background: work, broadly speaking, in the food industry. It is perhaps not as dangerous as in the days of “The Jungle,” but workers in it remain at risk of bodily harm and/or disease. The death of the young boy probably was not the kind of injury that would occur from time to time by adult workers. Today, of course, we have a pandemic to add to the mix. Sorry for the confusion.
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Thanks for the clarification, Dr. Stein. Over the centuries, the sugar industry in Guyana has taken many lives in the factory and field, as well as social ills specific to the industry: resultant rum culture and domestic violence.
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Cyril, thanks for sharing my post with your readers. Have a great week 🙂
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Poignant and emotionally wrenching.
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Thanks for reading, Robert. Puddicombe’s collection took me back to my own childhood days and, after my own return visits in 1995 and 2001, I came to the same realization that we can never go back to a place and time that once existed. Not only had the Guyanese people changed, I had also changed. That my own relatives saw me as an outsider did not help matters.
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I’ve had similar experiences. Our nostalgic memories are for us alone, I suppose.
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Thank you for sharing Ken Puddicombe’s poems. When he said the punt trench is now an avenue, that really struck me. Not easy poems, but real.
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Rebecca, I find that the “not easy poems” offer us the opportunity to look at life’s difficult moments. It can be devastating to witness with one’s own eyes the disappearance of a place that had played a central role in one’s childhood. It’s the slow death of a once vital sugar industry that, for centuries, has dominated the lives of the Guyanese people. Our individual lives are insignificant in humanity’s march of economic progress.
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I sense a note of irony in the “economic progress”. Relegating so many people to poverty, to joblessness while the very few burst at the financial seams, seems no progress.
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You sensed correctly, Rebecca. The lives of millions of people worldwide have been sacrificed and continue to be sacrificed in the name of “economic progress.” Our current pandemic is revealing the inequities in our societies.
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Yes, the divisions are stark. Pandemic as a vacation vs pandemic as starvation.
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I’ve just read some mini biographies of interesting people interviewed by Merv Griffin over the years. One of them was Orson Welles. He never liked revisiting places he’s been to. They’re never the same, he said. How true!
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Thank you, Rosaliene, you keep finding fascinating new authors to introduce us to. I do like these punt poem fragments, they’re so visual.
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My pleasure, Cath 🙂 Featuring a poet from Guyana, Brazil, and the USA has been an amazing journey of discovery and learning for me, too! I believe that Puddicombe’s strong visual poetry comes from his success as a novelist. “Drowning” was so visceral that it stoked my own fears of drowning and left me shaken.
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Sounds like one to add to my wish-list.
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Reminds me a bit of Nerudo’s poetry in its description of ordinary working class life.
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Thanks for dropping by, Dr. Bramhall, and sharing your thoughts 🙂
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Mr. Puddicombe’s powem shows how vivid memories can be. As with your novel, we get a look into a different world, a world of great difficulty, discarded leftovers, but then a bit of hope that life goes on. I guess hope can be found in any place or situation if we look hard enough to envision it.
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poem. not powem. Maybe I was thinking the word powerful. Powerful poem.
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It happens, JoAnna 🙂 Our thoughts move much faster than our fingertips.
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🙂
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Hope lives in the darkest of places and situations. I experienced it in Guyana. I experienced it in Brazil. I see it here in the USA in the selfless acts of people who themselves have so little to give.
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❤ We have to keep seeing the hope in the dark.
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Thank you for sharing!.. “There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other.” (Douglas H. Everett)…. 🙂
Hope all is well in your part of the universe, the heat and virus staying away from your door and all your tomorrows are filled with love and happiness!.. 🙂
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Thanks for dropping by, Dutch 🙂 Turning our present reality into a better future for all Americans will demand all hands on deck.
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Thank you so much for sharing!
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You’re welcome, Don. Glad you stopped by 🙂
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Thanks for sharing this and giving so much background info. It really helps me understand and appreciate the depth of these poems!
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Sean, thanks for dropping by and sharing your thoughts 🙂
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Thanks for share this…
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Adnan, thanks for dropping by 🙂
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interesting comments from your readers…
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