#wales
I remember
waiting outside school
in the morning before
my day even started
Waiting, just to see
my friends gathered
in the dreadful,
comforting weather
The wind would throw
my hair in all different
directions, ruining the
style id perfected moments prior
The misty rain gathered
on my head, dampening my
steaightened hair, guaranteeing
it wouldnt last until breaktime
I remember walking through
the beach, on a stormy day
feeling the wind blow
sand onto my skin
As i walked, the strong
smell of the sea salt
invaded my nostrils, sickening me,
yet reminding me of my home
I could see that the
beach is no longer what
it used to be, deserted,
no longer my towns pride
In the summer, the adults
would disapprove of me
swimming in the lake, but i waded,
so far their voices couldnt be heard
Because being a teenager
you dont care.
7d ago
May 27, 2026 at 4:45 PM UTC
Early morning walks
Through the hills and dales of Wales
Gleeful were those days.
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 11:17 PM UTC
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Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 5:38 AM UTC
the cambrian seas
are calm this mid-summer eve,
and shimmer the stars.
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 10:43 AM UTC
In rolling hills like rotting, crumbling bone,
By flaying skin, the endless forests shorn,
And left to tamed and tailored pasture don,
Which many thousand bleating moths adorn.
The heather look like purple poison sharp,
Across cadaver moors with spongy flesh.
The pall from flames of moor like baleful tarp,
Like waving fur in wind wuthering mesh.
And into putrid blood and open wounds,
Where still so often everything drowns.
As fog like snowy beard on night unwinds,
With hair garrottes that strangle sight from ground.
This twisted grove that I defend alone,
Because this charnel pit is my own home.
Jan 30, 2025
Jan 30, 2025 at 2:53 AM UTC
Barn door
swings gentle in the wind
and as it swings it sings a creaking hymn
each rusting metal part contributes something to the tune
no caustic gale has swept this sodden farmyard free of life
time has cleared this plot, severing today from times long past
those who lie in the churchyard up the valley know full well
what years have brought this building down
with windows mostly out,
battered eyelets all shot through with jagged holes
as if the house itself had lost its stocky stone built soul
crouched low, set firm against a nagging breeze
sagging ivy wags a finger in its gaping maw
that bent and twisted raw bone knuckled door
and finds its way through rotten skirting board and floor
to lift the planks and venture to the cellar dug below
toppled from beneath, by damp and rot
where pale and sickly mushroom flowers grow
fat and pink among the creeping green
a place that better days have definitely seen
Jun 30, 2024
Jun 30, 2024 at 4:23 AM UTC
See this
The cupped hands
The fat in the lamb
The fable, the stones,
The hook that stands
The shepherd's door
Cross the red dirt floor
The Black Usk
Snaking under
Table mountain
Green with
Lambs that lick
At grass drenched
In peeling bells
That climb and call
Your dust to prayer
Now kneel
Cold cushions
Under high glass
Stained for sinners
_Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani_
Your fat in the lamb
Your crimson hands
Better you bury
Your rind in red earth
To cure your warts
With a whisper
And send your sins
To the dirt
Jul 22, 2023
Jul 22, 2023 at 7:15 AM UTC
I hold this land;
deep within my heart.
I hold in my hands
the soil and the toil,
until the end of days;
until the end of time.
I hold this land;
for our children
I hold in my hands
the future and the past,
until the end of days;
until the end of time.
until the end of days,
until the end of time.
until the end of days,
until the end of time.
May 5, 2023
May 5, 2023 at 7:44 PM UTC
~
*Inundate your love
for this sacred village,
on bended knee,
facing the freshet,
supplicated hands pressed together,
one of grace, one of charity,
lips of sweet euphony,
whispering into the morning sun,
a language deep and pounding
inside your heart's timpani,
abiding like unsheltered waters
that nourish the vine*
~
Sep 8, 2021
Sep 8, 2021 at 10:38 AM UTC
We drive through the dark
to her home,
radio lulling small back seat bodies,
so late that our DJs have hushed
and only the rustling burr
of an AM station remains,
in and out like consciousness
with songs of eternal love,
bread of heaven
ar hyd y nos
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 3:46 PM UTC
I’d not ask a life that’s easy,
Gold and pearls so little mean,
Rather seek a heart that’s joyful,
Heart that’s honest, heart that’s clean.
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 1:35 PM UTC
It's raining outside like buckets
- - - like hard and fast and almost even
- - - like rain you'd best not be caught in
- - - like the beginnings of a terrible storm
except there's no thunder, no lightning.
It's just rain, and you are inside, safe with a soft blanket
*(you are not scared and shuddering
you are not crying and wishing not to be alone
you are not holding in choked breaths, hugging yourself tight.*)
it is raining, and it rains most days, here.
the trees around you are so green, like nothing you're used to.
you have a room to yourself, and no one who loves you who lives close.
(and you think you might love it here.)
this, where you reside, this is not a place you can call home.
(not when your heart still yearns for the place you grew up, so long ago.
not when most of the people that make up your family live oceans away.
not when you have just barely lived here a month, not quite yet.)
but -- but -- this place, it feels safe.
you can't remember living anywhere where all you felt was safe, before.
you - really - don't want to let that go.
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 5:16 PM UTC
Breeze flowing gently;
The waterfall cascades down;
I feel at peace here.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC
Southampton, Liverpool, Bournemouth and Hull
Places in England that give you the pull
going by ****** or National Express
Wherever you want it can cost you less
booking in 3 or more months in advance
lets you see scenery takes only a glance
from down south and London and places above
get into Scotland you'll need to wear glove
Cross the border and hear the sound of the pipes
or get into wales - a choir - ooh cripes
a sound that gives you goosebumps
a sound that makes you cringe
keep going north my friend
and watch the Edinburgh Fringe
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
God did not intend you to die
He intended you to live
For all the abuses
For all the suffering
For each and every wound
God gave you a gift
This weaponry, this arsenal, this armour
Of talents, arts, voice
is a fire to the demons in your head
Purge the monsters
Purify them with your fire
God is always with you
God did not let you suffer in vain
He did so, so, you may learn
learn to survive, to fight, to win
Survival is in your family
It is in your blood
Your Mother, Grandfathers
Great Grandparents
You are of the land of the dragon
You are of the land of God
Your blood of warriors Celtic born
Your blood is of Moses and Abraham
Your blood will pass onto your daughter
In your womb, lies the power of creation
The gift of life, to forge a soul
In your womb is the blood of Ariel
In your womb is the blood of Cymru
God did not intend you to die
He intended you to live
To live, to survive, to fight
Is in your blood
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC