Strangers Light.

Posted on by celfypridd

In these times will we light the stranger’s candle?

It’s something that I’ve done

for as long as I’ve had a family.

Lighting a candle in a window

on Christmas Eve

for any stranger walking

home to their own family.

Or maybe a child of my own

making their own journey

in their own lives, in their own way.

–

©robcullen261225

Originally written in 2010.

Reflections on Pipestone Creek Dinosaur Bone bed.

Posted on by celfypridd

foto©robcullen2025

….

I’ve wondered whether on some high mountain somewhere,

There lies millions of bones and the billions of remains

Of animals and beings not selected by Noah for his Ark.

…

The endings of lives, of those who were not chosen, not selected.

Desperately climbing to the highest mountains and headlands,

In their hopeless attempt to avoid the following encroaching waters.

…

How many bone graveyards must there be? Forgotten death yards.

When only so few were chosen two by two, one male, one female.

And so many who hadn’t heard the news of the great flooding.

…

Imagine the scene at the ramp and Noah’s selection – that word again selection.

And of those being told that two of your kind have been chosen but not you.

Of being told there’s no more room; there’s no more space for you and yours.

…

Imagine how difficult it was to tell a T-Rex and the dinosaurs they weren’t wanted.

Blue whales, Sperm whales, Dolphins and the Sharks in amusement watched on.

Fleas bit someone’s knees, ants bit into floating wood, Midges did what they do.

…

But what was it like on that mountain height? – It wouldn’t have been silent for sure.

Standing there with so many others, left and discarded, angry and disconsolate,

Watching the inevitable rise of engulfing waters slowly seeping, waters creeping.

…

Even the birds that could fly and were left behind would eventually fall,

Flying endlessly with nowhere to go in a world of salt water seas.

Thank God there were fish. Thank God for his wisdom that there were fish.

…

Oh to be a fish! Oh to be a fish in times like these and to swim in the depths,

Far below the waves and not have to see these times and the murder of children,

Not have to see the genocide of a people, of the murder of so many Gaza children.

…

Twenty-five thousand murdered children of Gaza where will their bones lie?

Eighty thousand men, women and children murdered before the eyes of the world.

What will be the name of the bone yard – the graveyard of the People of Gaza?

…

©robcullen20525

Launch of this anthology of radical poetry from Cymru.

Posted on by celfypridd

Launch of this anthology of radical poetry from Cymru , with cover by Gus Payne, will be at Caffi Soar in Merthyr on October 11th , 1.30 pm. /
Lawnsiad y flodeugerdd hon yng Nghaffi Soar ,Merthyr , ar y 11fed o Hydref , 1.30 yp . Meic agored. Mynediad am ddim.
Croeso i bawb.

Out there!

Posted on by celfypridd

Its best to keep quiet about the quiet places – In the oakwood big Ash trees -a few years ago I thought the largest with “die back” was a goner. Its still there regrowing – fable or metaphor? Whichever the fact remains that millions of insects thrive in this woodland and these special places need protecting! @SilverBirchPress