Written by Jacob Ibrag She wants to feel excited when she sees him, to feel lost when he leaves. Otherwise, what’s the point of any of it? What’s the use of owning a heart if you can…
Source: Ache
Remnants
Dram rail
Remnant
Waste
Heaped
High on a mountain side
Message
Measuring the weight of clouds
He stands watching steam rise
From the boiling water of the open pan
He clasped his hands together
To catch a cloud of steam somehow
And it is moments like these
Men in their madness dream
Of measuring the weight of clouds
He stood his mouth wide and open
And tried to catch a cloud of steam
And it is at moments like this
That large bellied men scheme
To measure the weight of clouds.
A black blind eagle sat in a tree
Listening very carefully to the man
Standing above the boiling pan
This wise bird could clearly hear
Each movement the man made
To grasp and gather a cloud of steam
And it is at times like these
That earth becomes more dangerous.
The child lies on his back in the grass
On the mountains top
Watching clouds stream past
The effortless changing forms
And sees too the time ahead
When ice a mile thick
Will cover the land again
Men stand watching steam rise
From the boiling water of the open pan
And see nothing, hear nothing
Not even the sound of time
Breathing hot breathed
At the back of their necks
And it is at times like these
That earth becomes more dangerous.
Amazing lineup!
Red poets, young poets, emerging poets, Welsh poets and singers – The Valleys are on Fire – spread the word!
Rhondda Voices
Rhondda Voices is a participatory installation that seeks to challenge the subjective and objective viewpoint by merging conversational contributions with photographic views of the Rhondda valley.
Rhondda Voices (2016)
Photo print on fabric, 6 channel audio installation, duration 12 minutes
During the summer of 2016 nine people with connections to the Rhondda met on a bench with the artist and spoke about their Rhondda. The artwork forms a collective conversation of shared histories, coincidences and contradictions that make up the diverse views and landscape of the valley.
Contributors and bench location
Cynthia Lewis, Tyntyla Avenue, Ystrad
Ryan Danahar, Sandy Bank Road, Ystrad
Ann Davies, Brynheulog Terrace, Tylorstown
Ann Lord, Brynheulog Terrace, Tylorstown
Keith Rhodes, Brynheulog Terrace, Tylorstown
Rob Cullen, Glyncornel Lake, Llwynypia
Kirsty Parlour, Pleasant Terrace
Lisa Powell, Penryhs Road, Penrhys
James Clemas, Eisteddfa Road, Ystrad
SAMHAIN/THE GATHERING – On the Celtic Origins of Halloween
“……He was their god, the wizened Bent One with many glooms;
the people who believed in him over every harbour, the eternal Kingdom shall not betheirs.
For him ingloriously they slew their wretched firstborn with much weeping
and distress, to pour out their blood around the Bent One of the hill”.
FULL ARTICLE:
https://www.academia.edu/29430953/SAMHAIN_Some_Reflections_on_the_Celtic_Origins_of_Halloween
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saffron lane by Yasmin Musse
after we scratched filigree onto trees behind my mother’s house our wet fingernails needed a break i played at being the white lady from countryfile i trailed stolen periwinkles along my san…
Source: saffron lane by Yasmin Musse
Reach by Pamela Ireland Duffy
declarations treaties wars begin and end with words and in between the unspeakable lost for words fail me walls falling blind choking fingers reaching towards the light life reaching up through rui…
Source: Reach by Pamela Ireland Duffy
“Struggle or Starve”
“Mam was thirty-nine when she died. … I was not used to looking after a house and family, let alone a baby not quite two years old. It was one thing helping Mam; being in sole charge was quite different. Dad’s only contribution was to give me money each Friday and let me carry on as best I could.”
“Drawing on the memories of those who were young girls and young women at the time, this collection vividly recreates the lives of working class women during this difficult time of depression, dislocation and dramatic industrial and political struggle.
It mingles fragments of reminiscence of previously unpublished writers with extracts from published autobiographies – some, like the work of Elizabeth Andrews, long out of print – to protray women’s struggle, not just for survival, but for dignity, recognition and wider opportunities.”
“Struggle or Survive” Honno Press
is a must read in these times of austerity. Rob Cullen.
Myfanwy
Why so the anger, Oh Myfanwy,
That fill your dark eyes
Your gentle cheeks, Oh Myfanwy,
No longer blush beholding me?
Where now the smile upon your lips
That lit my foolish faithful love?
Where now the sound of your sweet words,
That drew my heart to follow you?
What was it that I did, Oh Myfanwy,
To deserve the frown of your beautiful cheeks?
Was it a game for you, Oh Myfanwy,
This poet’s golden flame of love?
You belong to me, through true promise,
Too much to keep your word to me?
I’ll never seek your hand, Myfanwy,
Unless I have your heart with it.
Myfanwy, may your life entirely be
Beneath the midday sun’s bright glow,
And may a blushing rose of health
Dance on your cheek a hundred years.
I forget all your words of promise
You made to someone, my pretty girl
So give me your hand, my sweet Myfanwy,
For no more but to say “farewell”.
For the little children.
Celfypridd 