“All secrets of past tense have just come my way,
but I still don’t know what I’m going to do
next.”
Richard Brautigan
Rommel Drives On Deep Into Egypt.
Jules Verne Zucchini
Men are walking on the moon today,
planting their footsteps as if they were
zucchini in a dead world
while over 3,000,000 people starve to death
every year on a living one.
Earth
July 20, 1969
Rommel Drives On Deep Into Egypt
Richard Brautigan.
Cae’r Blaidd or ‘field of the wolf’.
Cae’r Blaidd or ‘field of the wolf’.
The last wolf died in this place
but the hour of the wolf remains
and the wolves call for us, call for you
calling haunting us with their calling
calling for us over and over again
It is the time when we cross over
as some people say of the passing away
in the early hours when coldness
an imperceptible drop in temperature
loosens our will, loosens our grip on life
and the wolf crosses with us too
it has nowhere else to go after all.
A time we no longer speak of
the easing of souls young and old
the hour of the wolf remains taboo.
It is a way with our family at this time
that we sit in vigil, a candle burning
talk of remembrance, of memories
of life and the sadness of leaving.
But whatever we say the wolf remains
at the door until our time comes too.
And the wolf patiently waits for the hour,
waits at the door to call as it must do.
Published in The Learned Pig 2017
©robcullencelfypridd19
Poetry submissions
Very pleased to hear that two of my poems will be published in the Atlanta Poetry Review.
Rain Poem
All my childhood it rained.
The tall women in the family
fluttered between the wires
taking out the clothes. And sweeping
towards the patio
the water that flooded the rooms.
We put washbowls and chamber pots
to gather the dripping of the leaks
and when they overflowed we emptied them in the drain.
We went about barefoot with our pants rolled up,
all of our shoes protected on a shelf.
Mother rushed to the living room with a sheet of plastic
to cover the encyclopedia.
The light of the flashes of lightning came through the roof.
Under the flood from the sky
my grandmother lit a candle stub
and her prayers did not let it go out.
The electricity went off all night.
I was lucky enough to have a rubber raincoat
my father made for me
to be able to go to school
without my notebooks getting wet.
I wore out shoes by just putting them on.
One day the sun came out.
My father was already dead.
Translation: 2006, Nicolás Suescún
Jotamario Arbelaez
Where it begins…
Runaway Climate Chaos
Chairs
Some empty chairs
are emptier chairs
than other chairs.
©robcullen619
Death trap Anzio
Watching the D-Day commemorations reminded me that in January 1944 there was another landing – Anzio. And there are no commemorations:
“When Lucian Truscott’s 3rd Division was first selected for the operation, he pointed out to Clark that the position was a death trap and there would be no survivors. Agreeing, Clark canceled the operation, but Prime Minister Churchill revived it.”
The Irish Guards Battalion in which my father served was almost wiped out at Anzio – he was lucky to survive. He then was a prison of war – Boyd Clack – to return to hear soldiers of the Italian Campaign called “D-Day dodgers”.
Ironic too listening to historians talk about Churchill’s anxiety about D-Day because of the disaster of his making at Galipoli – when he was also responsible for the more recent disaster at Anzio and placing men in a “deathtrap” – helped by the incompetence of the American Generals in command.
But no commemoration for the Battle of Anzio – albeit deleted out of history!
VoicesontheBridge@Clwbybont, Pontypridd – Thursday 6th June ’19
Another great mix of Poetry, Spoken Word, Song and Music organised by Rob Cullen!
Clwb Y Bont opens its doors at 7.00pm and VOB starts at 7.30pm.
Non-alcoholic drinks and the other stuff at the bar.
Wheelchair access and easy car parking on Taff Street.
Last train back to the ‘Dif just after 11pm.
