The wonderful Giles Turnbull reading tonight – his poetry spreads colour into everyone who listens! Great poet!
Paola Deffendi is still waiting.
Paola Deffendi is still waiting.
Paola Deffendi is waiting.
Guilio Regeni her son lies buried under a line of cypress trees.
Her son’s gravestone is just a plain marble slab.
Unadorned except for flowers, devotional candles and a small photograph
His face open and earnest.
Paola Deffendi is waiting.
‘It’s all over the happiness of our family was so short.’’
She waits for justice to be done and for truth to be told.
Veritas for Guilio Regeni.
And love will triumph, love for a child will not be out done.
His face open and earnest.
Paola Deffendi is waiting.
Nagy said – ‘‘We will just have to wait. Inshallah, something will come of it.’’
And the secrecy of darkness enfolds always playing for time.
Hoping people will forget, and we and the world will stop watching.
And Guilio Regeni lies buried under a line of cypress trees
His gravestone a plain marble slab.
Paola Deffendi is waiting.
For the real truth and not the convenient truth to be revealed.
And those at the top who know – have secrets in the darkness of their hearts
Guilio Regini’s broken and violated body was left propped up
Waiting to be found. But they’d found it already
It was in plain view. And they knew, they knew.
Paola Deffendi is waiting.
A mother honours the child she brought into this world,
The son she loved and watched as any mother would.
A child who grew into manhood with brilliance and compassion
And the intense inquisitiveness that showed his humanity
And now Guilio Regeni lies buried under a line of cypress trees.
“But we will not stop until we find an answer. We owe it to his mother.”
©RobCullen2017
Giulio Regeni Disappeared
So I posted a poem!
Giulio Regeni Disappeared
On 25th January 2016 Giulio Regeni disappeared?
And nine days later as if by magic reappeared.
Words like disappeared seem so utterly stupid
as if the torturers and killers didn’t know then and now
who I was, where I was, and what they’d done to me
over those long hours, of those nine days and nights.
Now in the silence I will speak about me and them.
three times you broke my bones, and tore the nails
from my feet, and my hands and please forgive me
I confess I fully lost count of the number of times
you burnt me with cigarettes. Did you forget?
and you punctured my body with stab wounds.
and how could I overlook the sparks and electrodes
on my genitals, after all I was a man among you men
and then you severed my spine with that final blow.
And so you took my life. Another of those stupid phrases
but the torturers and executioners have many lives.
So many lives. Far too many for me to describe.
Imagine them with their wives and their children
with all that blood and gore, my blood washed
and cleansed, as they handle their daughters, sons,
mothers too. The intimate way they touch their wives.
How are they clean and free from all that stains them?
How do they forget what it felt like holding me down?
Of the sound of my breathing, of the smell of my sweat
as they strapped me and held me down. Is it forgotten?
Let’s agree not to call them monsters and demons.
Shall we? They are brothers, fathers, uncles, sons.
if we make them different, we act and conspire
to make them special, different to the rest of us.
Making them different provides an excuse for us
to say too that we would not do what they did or do
when in fact they are like us, all of us, me and you.
A sickness has been unleashed on this earth, this world.
Humans look at what you are, and all of what you do.
On 25th January 2016 Giulio Regeni disappeared.
The executioners reality was – he was in plain view!
I received a message from his mother asking whether I knew Giulio. Totally humbled.
Please if you read this post make it your business to get behind demands from the Egyptian Government to provide an explanation for the torture and death of Giulio an academic studying in Cambridge. And murdered in Egypt.
Think of his mother grieving for her son!
Voices on the Bridge – The lull!
I’m so pleased to have the following poets and musicians perform at Voices On the Bridge!
This is a free event supported by Pontypridd Museum!
Come put your feet up in a relaxed evening – who knows we need them in the lull!
Giles L. Turnbull is a blind poet living in South Wales. His poetry and articles have appeared with Rockland, Fair Acre Press, Corncrake Magazine, Poetry Wales, Sabotage, and in anthologies by Disability Arts Cymru and Nine Arches Press. His poem, Pooh Sticks, was shortlisted in the 2016 Live Canon International Poetry Competition and he was shortlisted in the Bridport in 2017. His debut pamphlet, Dressing Up, was published by Cinnamon Press in January 2017.
Rebecca Parfitt’s debut poetry collection, The Days After, was published in April 2017. She is a recipient of the Hay Festival Writers at Work residency. She is also founder and editor of the Ghastling, a magazine devoted to horror and the macabre.
Cara Gwen is a bilingual musician and artist from South Wales and a recent graduate from the University of Oxford. Her poetry is influenced by the landscape, politics and folklore of her home.
Rufus Mufasa is a literary activist and lyrical genre hopper who has travelled and toured profusely but always returns to Pontypridd, which she has made her home. Rufus’ work explores a cocktail of disciplines, the avant-garde “ness” of multilingualism, the threading of ancestry, filled with hope and heart. New school call her rapper, old school call her chanter, but she adores her newest title, mother, and is drunk on the lessons it brings, and how it has made her an even stronger dutiful daughter to our planet.
Mike Jenkins Retired Comp teacher, lives in Merthyr. Conducts creative writing workshops for children and adults. Co-editor of Red Poets magazine for 22 years. Winner of Wales Book of the Year for short story collection ‘Wanting to Belong'(Seren). Book of poetry ‘Nobody’s Subject’ (BBTS). Latest book is poetry in Merthyr vernacular, Sofa Surfin.( Carreg Gwalch).
Rob Cullen studied at Bristol and Cardiff art colleges and lived in New York and Brighton. Rob was an expert to the criminal and family courts. He retired in 2012. His short story The Choice was published in an anthology A Fall into Grace in 2015. Rob has written short stories published in Ystrad Stories related to the paintings of Ernie Zobole. His poems have been published in the online magazines I AM NOT A SILENT POET, The Learned Pig, The Bezine. A collection of poetry “Uncertain Times” was published in 2016. He is currently being mentored by a publisher on a novel “Imaginary Beaches”. Rob has also recently collaborated with the photographer Jon Pountney on a film “Beachcombing” providing words and voice over. www.celfypridd.wordpress.com
Mike Church is a radio talk show host, and singer/songwriter. In 2006 Church was named to Askmen.com‘s list of the “Top Ten Shock Jocks in America. He has been called “The Most Radical Man on the Radio”, and has been called the “The King Dude” by listeners since 2001.The Mike Church Show was the first-ever produced talk show on Sirius Satellite Radio . Prior to its cancellation in October, 2015, Church’s show was the longest-running program on satellite radio. His final live show on Sirius XM aired on the morning of Tuesday, October 27, 2015.Church is also credited with creating a library of original conservative-themed parody songs, which include “Manuel Went Down To Georgia,” “There’s Democrats Somewhere” and “Obama,” a take on the Toto classic, “Rosanna.” Most recently, Church’s “Mr. Jefferson,” became a hit song and video. A rendition of the Simon & Garfunkel classic, “Mrs. Robinson,” Church’s “Mr. Jefferson” racked up nearly 200,000 views on YouTube.com – in the first week of release alone. The song was also tapped as the theme song for hundreds of “Tax Day Tea Party” rallies across the country. These can be found online.His show was aired on SIRIUS XM Patriot, SIRIUS and XM channel 125 Monday through Friday from 6:00 am – 9:00 am Eastern time. Shows were generally aired live, with an occasional rebroadcast of a previous show. The show was also later rebroadcast on SIRIUS XM Patriot Plus, SIRIUS 816 and XM 138 from 12 midnight to 3 am Eastern time. His show was broadcast live from self-supported studios in Mandeville, Louisiana, a suburb of New Orleans.
Mike Jenkins Retired Comp teacher, lives in Merthyr. Conducts creative writing workshops for children and adults. Co-editor of Red Poets magazine for 22 years. Winner of Wales Book of the Year for short story collection ‘Wanting to Belong'(Seren). Book of poetry ‘Nobody’s Subject’ (BBTS). Latest book is poetry in Merthyr vernacular, Sofa Surfin.( Carreg Gwalch).
Eric Ngalle Charles was born in Buea, Cameroon on the 29th November 1979. It has a taking me over sixteen years to be able to write about the various incidents that took place back home in my small village of Wovilla, in Buea, Cameroon. Eric became a victim of human trafficking and ended up with a one way student visa to Russia instead of Belgium. He is a poet, dramatist and novelists based in Cardiff/Wales. He runs Black Entertainment Wales, an Arts organisation that provides a platform for artists in the BMEs communities to showcase their work. Since his arrival in Wales, he edited and published Between a Mountain and a Sea, Soft Touch, Nobody’s Perfect, and Festival of the Wolves – poetry anthologies by refugees, other migrants and indigenous artists in collaboration with Hafan books and Dr Tom Chessman. Eric’s first play, My Mouth Brought Me Here, was showcased at Encampment in London Southbank on the 4th of August 2016 and was again performed at the Hay Festival on the 30th of May 2017. Eric’s plays are based around his poetry and proverbs from cultures that exist on the periphery.
Julie Griffin Pritchard is known as the walking poet, she grew up in Ely, Cardiff but now lives in the beautiful Rhymney Valley. Julie is a published performance poet and has read and performed her poetry throughout Wales, England, Ireland, Spain and France. Recently she walked Hadrian’s Wall alone and performed her poetry in Northumberland.
“Spirit Cracked not Broken” Is her 3rd collection of poetry.
“Writing about abuse does not erase the memory, it lays, the emotion surrounding the memory to rest”
“Spirit Cracked not Broken is pretty amazing, Julie. I felt your voice so strong in the images and words. So powerful. Raw. Honest. Brutally honest. It is true poetry – you took me on a journey. Into a life. Into darkness. Into glittering smiles and braking hearts. “ Poet and Playwright Patrick Jones
She founded and established Rhyme and Real Ale (RARA) Creator and host of Poetry open mic at the Capel and chair of Rhymney Valley Literature and Art festival.
To know more about Julie please look at www.pritchardjulie5.wordpress.com
Mark Curtis has been a familiar face at spoken word events in and around Cardiff for the past 2 years though he has been writing for much longer. As a former Samaritan volunteer who has battled depression since childhood, Mark seeks to raise awareness and understanding of mental health issues through his poetry and performance. His poetry has been published both online and in print, and he is determined 2017 will be the year his long delayed first collection appears. He may even finish his debut novel. Stranger things happen all the time but don’t hold your breath just yet!
Hope to see you on the night good people!
That generation of men
That generation of men
How long did I work with people who were abused?
Thirty eight years of my life
but always meeting that resistance
of silence and absolute denial by that generation of men
Thirty eight years trying to get through a wall
of silence, of intolerance,
it seems ridiculous to me now the ends they’d go
to avoid listening or do anything.
I was known in the United States
my boss shut his door refusing to answer his phone
he was out or in a meeting his secretary said
when I could see his car outside my window
That generation of men who believed children
asked for it in some way
or thought the abusers of children were right
it didn’t do the child harm after all they’re still breathing still alive.
Thirty eight years of listening
and now I worry that nothings really changed
another generation of men
are not talking about what they really think.
©RobCullen2017
Published in I Am Not A Silent Poet October 2017.
Red Poets Magazine 2017
Absolution.
To the muted drum
Of my slow heart beat
One step, two step,
Each step in time.
A headless man,
A fountain of blood,
Walks uninvited
Into my dreams.
One step, two step,
Each step in time
A fountain of blood
That gushes in streams,
Covers my clothes,
Covers my eyes.
Other men standing
Leaden and still,
Faces caught frozen,
Unhinged by the sight.
One step, two step,
Each step in time.
A line of masks,
Wrinkled and creased,
Skin like leather
Painted dim white.
One step, two step,
Each step in time.
A lost ball rolling
To drip red feet,
Spins on the black track,
To show once again
The screaming wide gape
Of still twisted lips.
One step, two step,
Each step in time.
In the low long lean
Of the coal yards rise,
Smooth steel rails
Snake on the flat land
Like silvered blades.
And a raw red sun
Pours tears in the sky,
Pours scorn in the hand,
Pours fear in my eye.
One step, two step,
Each step in time.
A man on his back,
A fountain of blood
Awash in a stretcher
Continues to writhe.
To the muted drum
Of my cold heart beat.
One step, two step,
Each step in time.
1974.
Published Red Poets Magazine 2017.
First published in Rob Cullen’s poetry collection “Uncertain Times” Octavo Press 2016.
SOS from the Frontier
An SOS from the frontier.
This is a message from the borderlands
an endless void a windswept land
it is a desert stripped bare of features.
So I whisper the message – If you could have heard
all that I’ve heard. If you could see all that I’ve seen
if you could have been there, far out there and if you
could have listened to peoples words, listened to those
broken hurting people and that place out there, in here,
in me, in you. The dark frontier, that secret place you know
I know, we know, we all know, but deny its existence.
But for me there is no choice. I cannot deny its imprint
on my mind, my memory is not blind, deaf or unfeeling.
But I wish sometimes that it might be so. Now what do I do
with these memories, the words I do not wish to store,
and hold like some mad treasure trove, archive of horrors
of mankind, of humankind the stories told and told again,
The faces change but the pain and fear, the words remain.
It’s unending, it’s our narrative as long as we survive
this story will evolve and grow for we are humans.
I worked amongst the desolation, fragments,
survivors, of lives that might have flowered.
And that endless unknowing of what might have been
of who would I have been if that had not been done
to me, to who I was, a child, and unsuspecting.
Imagine the innocence and the quiet trust.
And all that time of working to heal – denial.
A total blindness to the reality of the harm
being done to children everywhere you look.
It’s a reality, take a bus or a train, sit in a café
you will be close to someone who has survived.
And then the guaranteed denial that fact is fact
In the face of all that. And then that sound
of wheels within wheels grinding, the noise
of conversations and the deals in closed rooms
to keep silence, to protect the perpetrators
and prevent the door room from being opened
and the truth from being known and shared.
Forty years of denial, obstruction and frustration.
Our lives are brief, a mere fluttering in time.
So open the door wide and let the light in!
From Rob Cullen’s collection “Uncertain Times” published September 2016 Octavo Press.
SOS from the frontier
Forty years of denial, obstruction and frustration.
Our lives are brief, a mere fluttering in time.
So open the door wide and let the light in!
Excerpt from SOS from the Frontier.
Published in Rob Cullen’s poetry collection “Uncertain Times” 2016 Octavo.
Once again love this man!
Poetry and song are the same! Its the message …
Celfypridd 