VoicesontheBridge Fundraiser for the Children of Gaza 6.30pm Saturday 21st June 2025 @StoryvilleBooks, Mill Street Quarter, Pontypridd.

VoicesontheBridge is a great fan of Abeer’s work and its great that she will be reading at our event again!

Abeer Ameer is a poet of Iraqi heritage who lives in Cardiff. Her poems have appeared widely in journals including The Rialto, Magma, The Poetry Review, and Poetry Wales. Her debut poetry collection, Inhale/Exile, was shortlisted for Wales Book of the Year 2022. She is currently working on her second poetry collection and regularly shares readings of poems on her YouTube channel.

This fundraiser to support the Children of Gaza is organised and presented by Rob Cullen of Pontypridd’s VoicesontheBridge. Performing wirth Abeer Ameer will be Mike Jenkins, Sabrin Hasbun, Patrick Jones, Rob Cullen, Leanne Evans, Des Mannay, Tracey Rhys, Fiona Cullen, Ben Wildsmith and Greg Cullen.

VoicesontheBridge is an evening of poetry, spoken word and song. This event is stacked with great poets & speakers book early to ensure your place!

Elizabeth Heath of RCT Palestine Solidarity Campaign will be speaking about the upcoming Palestinian youth visit to RCT and they will have a stall with info leaflets.

Menna Elfyn couldn’t be with us but has generously donated 20 copies of – Y Bachgen a’r Wal – The Boy and the Wall made by the young people at Lajee Centre near the city of Bethlehem.

Three local artists have donated paintings to be autioned on the night Barabara Castle, Jenna Cullen and Gerhard Kress and the sale will be donated to the fundraiser.

There will also be food and music.

This event is part of The Pontypridd Great Big Community as Super Power Day.

The event could not take place without the support of the wonderful @StoryvilleBooks. Big thanks to Jeff!

Watch out for further posts with more information about the evening.

We hope you can join us and support the urgent need of the children of Gaza.

Tickets are £10.

VoicesontheBridge Fundraiser for the Children of Gaza 6.30pm Saturday 21st June 2025 @StoryvilleBooks, Mill Street Quarter, Pontypridd.

Mike Jenkins is Co-editor of ‘Red Poets’ magazine for 32 years , Mike Jenkins has been involved in the Palestinian solidarity movement for decades.
His pamphlet ‘For Gaza’ ( Red Poets) raised nearly £500 for MAP.
Mike’s latest book is ‘Shared Origins ‘ ( Seventh Quarry), a collaboration with poets David Lloyd and David Annwn.
Forthcoming anthology ( as editor) is ‘We not me/ Ni nid fi’ (Culture Matters), radical poetry from Cymru.

Organised and presented by Rob Cullen of VoicesontheBridge. Reading and performing with Mike Jenkins will be Sabrin Hasbun, Abeer Ameer, Patrick Jones, Rob Cullen, Leanne Evans, Des Mannay, Tracey Rhys, Fiona Cullen, Ben Wildsmith and Greg Cullen.

An evening of poetry, spoken word and song.

A member of RCT Palestine Solidarity Campaign will be speaking about the upcoming Palestinian youth visit to RCT and they will have a stall with info leaflets.

Menna Elfyn couldn’t be with us but has generously donated 20 copies of – Y Bachgen a’r Wal – The Boy and the Wall made by the young people at Lajee Centre near the city of Bethlehem.

Three local artists have donated paintings to be autioned on the night Barabara Castle, Jenna Cullen and Gerhard Kress and the sale will be donated to the fundraiser.

There will also be food and music.

This event is part of The Pontypridd Great Big Community as Super Power Day.

The event could not take place without the support of the wonderful @StoryvilleBooks. Big thanks to Jeff!

Watch out for further posts with more information about the evening.

We hope you can join us and support the children of Gaza.

Tickets are £10.

Uncertain Times

…RobCullen@Celfypridd.co.uk

40 years since the end of the 1984/85 Miners Strike.

Remembering.

Yesterday I went to Chapter Arts Centre to watch films made by Welsh independent film makers Chris Rushton & Chapter Video & Chapter Film Workshopbefore during and after the 1984/5 miners strike. It was an emotional reminder of my experience of returning to Wales in 1981 to do a social work training after nine years away .

One of the films we watched was of the fight to prevent the closure of Penrhiwceiber – a film made by miners of their community. My first placement for the Social Work course was in the Citizens Advice centre in Mountain Ash which neighbours Penrhiwceiber. I was shocked – an understatement – by the levels of deprivation and poverty in this close knit community. And shocked to see the statistics scrolled out on the film and to understand that the same levels of deprivation still holds its grip to this day.

My poem “Uncertain Times” was written during 1984. It is no coincidence that the front photograph of my poetry collection “Uncertain Times” is of the Naval Colliery, Penygraig, Rhondda taken in 1968 after its closure. It’s the place where the miners leader John Hopla in 1910 was arrested for “incitement” and as a result subjected to twelve months imprisonment with hard labour which broke his health and he died not long after his release.

With the rise of Farage and Reform in the South Wales Valleys the last verse seem strangely prophetic!

Rob Cullen 3rd March 2025.

Uncertain times.

1

I see only forgotten men

Living in places

With once famous names.

I hear only words

Of tales and deeds

Of days of men and women

Long since forgotten

Long since dead.

And in these times of uncertainty

People live surrounded

By purposeless decline

A landscape of waste

And those twisted lines

Of once white shone steel

Polished by the unceasing grind

Of the turning wheel

Now lie hidden by elder.

And gathering the dirt brown stain

Of rust and disuse

Map out the death struggle

Of this dark place

And in this uncertainty people live.

Writhing in its decay

Its history ensnares

the withering and hopeless present.

But its people refuse to cry out.

Anger has been replaced

By that silence of regret

That pitiless lament

Of resignation and acceptance.

Some say it is our age

As if we were born in other times

And others days

Or as if this turmoil

And unceasing uncertainty

Was of our own making.

It has taken one hundred years

To silence and to forget

To carve away with such precision.

One hundred long hard years

To isolate those memories

To purge our dreams

And cut with all the accuracy

Of liquid golden steel

The misery of generations

The torments of our people

Of the years of our childhood

And before.

We can do nothing

We can say nothing

We are not listened to.

This is the song of our people

We suffer we suffer

We have cried too much

We have cried too long

And we have become lost.

But do not stir us

For we are dark dogs

We are shadow dogs

We sleep in motionless terror.

Do not speak to our hearts

Of indignities, of suffering.

Do not kindle our hatred.

Do not evoke words to spur

Our slumbering emotions.

We sleep we sleep.

2.

In Silence

That strange silence

When did it first occur?

Were there no witnesses?

Did no one see its coming?

Had it been something gradual?

Something that had begun

Without our knowing.

Or with that abruptness

That quickness of the blade

That cuts and severs

And life without knowing

Without recognising its own going

Seeps silently away.

That strange silence

When did it first occur?

Were our eyes turned away?

Our intelligence caught

By other curious happenings.

Was it that? Simply

A distraction of sorts.

Or was it something

That we secretly welcomed?

And now if there are regrets

It’s too late, much too late.

All that has been is no longer

All that may have been

Is now silent and forgotten.

Who will remember?

Or will it become

A few pages here and there

Of names and muttered words?

Some faint remembrances?

That strange vision

Of people blackened

Standing in cobbled streets

Faces turned towards camera

Their eyes watching

Looking but seeing nothing.

And we see nothing of them.

Their world our past

A fleeting glance caught

On the papers gloss

And in this hour I ask

Is that all that remains?

That strange silence.

3.

Of words and truth.

Like grasses bundled

And withered in storm

We are blown helplessly

And not a word is spoken.

Who sings the authentic song?

Who speaks the words of truth?

Who stands for me and mine?

Who looks at what we see?

Who hears what we hear?

Who breathes the air we breathe?

Who sees what is right and wrong?

Who speaks for me and mine?

Who sings the authentic song?

Where are our heroes and poets now?

1984.

RobCullen@Celfypridd.com

Paola Deffendi is still waiting.

Paola Deffendi is waiting.

Giulio Regeni her son lies buried near a line of cypress trees.

Giulio’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.’’

Paolo waits for justice to be done and for truth to be told.

Veritas for Giulio 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.

Giulio 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.

Those at the top In Egypt know – they hide secrets in the darkness of their hearts.

Giulio 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 Giulio 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

Clearances

RobCullen@Celfypridd.co.uk

Clearance.

I see my people’s names

in all the places I search

but I do not see them.

I read my people’s names

on the dry page of the folded map

but the land before me is empty.

I watch the landscape

identifying the marks

that my people have named

but the sound of their voices

is no longer heard.

There is a quietness

no echoing of names called

no trail of our footprints

only the trail of names

in a land that calls itself

by a strangers name.

A land echoing in its emptiness.

The mountains are still with us

but we are nowhere seen.

At Kinlochmoidart 1993.

“And we will present our eyes to the world.

Is it pretentions to believe that we are equal?

Is it asking too much that we want to live?

(From Deliverance: Alan Stivell)

Clearances from “Uncertain Times” Collection of poetry & photographs Rob Cullen published 2017.

Thinking of the people of Gaza & all dispossesed people.

And no person of a Celtic background should support a clearance of people from their lands.

“Uncertain Times” Poetry & Photography by Rob Cullen.

“Uncertain Times” was first published in 2016 with an unhappy beginning with the now defunct Octavio Press. In 2023 Rob Cullen decided to re-publish under his own title Celyn Books.

What people have said about “Uncertain Times”.

“Dark, insighful and well-crafted” – Carol White. Film Maker.

“This is an impressive first collection …. The poems have an easy strength and a directness that is strangely enchanting. Cullen most reminds me of Pablo Neruda not in style but sensibility. An apparent simplicity that is deceptively complex. There’s a lot going on here; love, loss, joy, work, family, trauma and the healing effects of nature. More like a selected poems than a debut, this is a rich, full and adroitly perceptive poetry that shows Cullen to be a quiet, strong and remarkable voice.”  Topher Mills, Poet.

“Your new “Uncertain Times” book is one of the best poetry books I have read – and read again – in a long time. 

“The range of poet Rob Cullen’s life’s experiences, including social worker anprobation officer, and his years spent in America contribute to a wide knowledge, real depth, and such open honesty to his poetry. His poems are ones without the safe bandages of literary refinements. He always speaks from the heart. It is a poetic voice offering, to take a phrase from a question he asks in his poem words and truth, ‘authentic songs’.                              He tackles many subjects in Uncertain Times/A Collection of Poetry and Photographs, each one powered by focus observation, aptly chosen words, and a voice that is often for those without a voice, the marginalised, the sufferers of a social and political system that is unfair, unequal and cruel. To quote from his poem An SOS from the Frontier, Cullen has ‘worked among the desolation, survivors of lives that might have flowered”. Uncertain Times so deserved a wide readership, for its originality, for its sheer bravery in exploring issues that a lot of poetry does not tackle, and for its healing moments in nature. This poet, though, also offers impressive poems about grief and deep love.                                            The photographs are a wonderful bonus, each one encouraging the reader to stop and think about them, to see depths in them too.”                             Peter Thabit Jones Welsh poet, dramatist and publisher Author (with Aeronwy Thomas) of the Dylan Thomas Walking Tour of Greenwich Village, New York.

“Uncertain Times” is available at @StoryvilleBook & Amazon now.

More Bridges Less Walls.

“Uncertain Times” Poetry & Photography by Rob Cullen.

“Uncertain Times” was first published in 2016 with an unhappy beginning with the now defunct Octavio Press. In 2023 Rob Cullen decided to re-publish under his own title Celyn Books.

What people have said about “Uncertain Times”.

“Dark, insighful and well-crafted” – Carol White. Film Maker.

“This is an impressive first collection …. The poems have an easy strength and a directness that is strangely enchanting. Cullen most reminds me of Pablo Neruda not in style but sensibility. An apparent simplicity that is deceptively complex. There’s a lot going on here; love, loss, joy, work, family, trauma and the healing effects of nature. More like a selected poems than a debut, this is a rich, full and adroitly perceptive poetry that shows Cullen to be a quiet, strong and remarkable voice.”  Topher Mills, Poet.

“Your new “Uncertain Times” book is one of the best poetry books I have read – and read again – in a long time. 

“The range of poet Rob Cullen’s life’s experiences, including social worker, probation officer, and his years spent in America contribute to a wide knowledge, real depth, and such open honesty to his poetry. His poems are ones without the safe bandages of literary refinements. He always speaks from the heart. It is a poetic voice offering, to take a phrase from a question he asks in his poem words and truth, ‘authentic songs’.                              He tackles many subjects in Uncertain Times/A Collection of Poetry and Photographs, each one powered by focus observation, aptly chosen words, and a voice that is often for those without a voice, the marginalised, the sufferers of a social and political system that is unfair, unequal and cruel. To quote from his poem An SOS from the Frontier, Cullen has ‘worked among the desolation, survivors of lives that might have flowered”. Uncertain Times so deserved a wide readership, for its originality, for its sheer bravery in exploring issues that a lot of poetry does not tackle, and for its healing moments in nature. This poet, though, also offers impressive poems about grief and deep love.                                            The photographs are a wonderful bonus, each one encouraging the reader to stop and think about them, to see depths in them too.”                             

Peter Thabit Jones Welsh poet, dramatist and publisher Author (with Aeronwy Thomas) of the Dylan Thomas Walking Tour of Greenwich Village, New York.

“Uncertain Times” is available at @StoryvilleBook & Amazon now.

More Bridges Less Walls.

Poem for lovers day – The first place in ‘75

fotocreditrobcullen

It was the first place we lived together

that white walled top floor flat

in an old Brighton town house.

It was a war zone of cold rooms and drafts.

we’d push newspapers rolled up and folded

into the cracks and gaps to block the blast

from the windows sash when the wind blew in

over the whipped-up roiling crazy white sea

gales that rattled windows and frames and doors.

From our bed on early December mornings

we’d watch a tower crane overhang the Kemptown

road with a Christmas tree sitting on its jib.

Those were mornings of clear skies

after the waves of the gale had receded

the gas fire’s flames flickering low, a mix of yellow and blue,

you played that scratched Baden Powell vinyl record

and the strains of the Samba Triste

filled the wooden floored rooms above Belvedere Road.

In the day we walked the sea front watching crashing waves

stir the shingle while fishermen hauled the keel boats

up through the pounding shore below the kids rides.

our love was fiery then.

….

©robcullen18012020

Looking down through dead water.

foto©robcullen3.12.2020.

Looking down through dead water.

On the ferry,

I liked sitting

on the edge,

looking down,

through dead water*.

I was returning

to a place

that was

and was not

my home.

I had never

been away,

returning

on the ferry,

looking down.

The River Suirs’

waters swirling,

muddy grey,

where it meets

the sea.

In the morning,

waiting, waiting.

Nearer now

to the quay,

where he’d be waiting,

with the brake

and horses,

a pair in hand.

Home again.

Looking down through dead water.

©robcullen06032021

foto©robcullen3.12.2020.

Dead water is the nautical term for a phenomenon which can occur when there is strong vertical density stratification due to salinity or temperature or both. It is common where a layer of fresh or brackish water rests on top of denser salt water, without the two layers mixing.

or water eddying beside a moving hull, especially directly astern.

or a part of a stream where there is a slack current.

©robcullen3.12.2020.Resistance Poetry

WRITTEN BY

Rob Cullen

Rob Cullen artist, writer, poet. Rob runs “Voices on the Bridge” a poetry initiative in Wales. Walks hills and mountains daily with a sheep dog at his side.

The Decree of Ne Temerre

Image for post
“Under the stone eyes of Mary*”. foto©robcullen110321

“The Decree of Ne Temerre.*”

Rob CullenMar 12 · 2 min read

There is a photograph taken at People’s Park,

my mother, father and sister,

standing in front of the open gates,

I am a child in my mother’s arms.

An uncle had died of TB,

a particularly virulent strain,

his brother he’d infected was in Dublin,

in a TB ward never to return.

His brother had come home,

when the war was done,

his lungs carried the strain,

one brother infected by his brother.

There was no freedom here,

a grandmother of one faith,

married to a grandfather,

of the state recognised religion.

But the freedom was of love,

the way they joshed and laughed,

cocking a snook at cruelties conventions,

in dangerous times for either.

Their love persevered,

in spite of the disconnection,

families estranged, rejection,

and so a lesson was learned.

The love of a church to murder children,

with its smiles, those killing smiles,

the freedom of a church to traffic children,

with closed eyes and the endless miles of lies,

the love of a church to brutalise,

young, single mothers, with nowhere to turn.

The freedom of a church to hide,

its crimes and the deaths of small children.

And in their black clothed piety,

set themselves above all others,

absolve themselves of guilt,

set themselves above Christs teachings.

There was no freedom here,

we watched with open eyes.

©robcullen110321

Image for post
“Under the stone eyes of Mary*”. foto©robcullen110321
  • Enunciated in 1907, Ne Temere requires that all children of a mixed marriage be brought up as Catholics. Before 1907 the tradition was that the boys in such a marriage would be brought up in the father’s faith and the girls in that of their mother.
  • Ne Temerre resulted in couples of both faiths being rejected by their families, particularly farming families, where the oldest boys who married a catholic would result in the Catholic children of that family inheriting the land. But the impact of Ne Temerre had much, much wider repercussions than this and its a subject that requires greater study. I would recommend “Different and the same” by Deirdre Nuttall.
  • Ne Temerre to all intents and purposes was a cleansing of Protestants from the Republic of Ireland.
  • “Under the stone eyes of Mary” is the title of a novel I am currently editing.
  • Being second generation Irish was confusing on many levels, returning “Home” raised further confusions.
  • Having a Catholic grandfather excluded by his farming family, and a Protestant grandmother excluded by her family provided a minefield when returning “Home”.

©robcullen110321Resistance Poetry

Verse as Commentary

WRITTEN BY

Rob Cullen

Rob Cullen artist, writer, poet. Rob runs “Voices on the Bridge” a poetry initiative in Wales. Walks hills and mountains daily with a sheep dog at his side.