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"welsh" poems
To live in Wales is to be conscious At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the wild sky, Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses. It is to be aware, Above the noisy tractor And hum of the machine Of strife in the strung woods, Vibrant with sped arrows. You cannot live in the present, At least not in Wales. There is the language for instance, The soft consonants Strange to the ear. There are cries in the dark at night As owls answer the moon, And thick ambush of shadows, Hushed at the fields' corners. There is no present in Wales, And no future; There is only the past, Brittle with relics, Wind-bitten towers and castles With sham ghosts; Mouldering quarries and mines; And an impotent people, Sick with inbreeding, Worrying the carcase of an old song. To live in Wales is to be conscious At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the wild sky, Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses. It is to be aware, Above the noisy tractor And hum of the machine Of strife in the strung woods, Vibrant with sped arrows. You cannot live in the present, At least not in Wales. There is the language for instance, The soft consonants Strange to the ear. There are cries in the dark at night As owls answer the moon, And thick ambush of shadows, Hushed at the fields' corners. There is no present in Wales, And no future; There is only the past, Brittle with relics, Wind-bitten towers and castles With sham ghosts; Mouldering quarries and mines; And an impotent people, Sick with inbreeding, Worrying the carcase of an old song.
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20.5k
Welsh Landscape
To live in Wales is to be conscious At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the wild sky, Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses. It is to be aware, Above the noisy tractor And hum of the machine Of strife in the strung woods, Vibrant with sped arrows. You cannot live in the present, At least not in Wales. There is the language for instance, The soft consonants Strange to the ear. There are cries in the dark at night As owls answer the moon, And thick ambush of shadows, Hushed at the fields' corners. There is no present in Wales, And no future; There is only the past, Brittle with relics, Wind-bitten towers and castles With sham ghosts; Mouldering quarries and mines; And an impotent people, Sick with inbreeding, Worrying the carcase of an old song. To live in Wales is to be conscious At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the wild sky, Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses. It is to be aware, Above the noisy tractor And hum of the machine Of strife in the strung woods, Vibrant with sped arrows. You cannot live in the present, At least not in Wales. There is the language for instance, The soft consonants Strange to the ear. There are cries in the dark at night As owls answer the moon, And thick ambush of shadows, Hushed at the fields' corners. There is no present in Wales, And no future; There is only the past, Brittle with relics, Wind-bitten towers and castles With sham ghosts; Mouldering quarries and mines; And an impotent people, Sick with inbreeding, Worrying the carcase of an old song.
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57
Mother, the Word timeless Hymnals devote Bore her Best Ribbon in Prayer and Gift With the Earth her Nature's Theatre denote Four Years Beyond; She would make her own Lift I speak of the Fruit all may come to Love, Branched with Four Maidens and a Knight do Sponsor And the King, whose Black Gold sprouts well-above, Branded Pride onto her; And gave her Honour Well that their Woolen Rope I can't compete Plus the Ring advised by the Prince of the North Still, a Grounded Vow I plan to complete For an Aunt called TRUST; And all that she's Worth. Grateful much, M'am, for your Good Decision Despite me Un-Known; The Owl you Rendition.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: LAURA WELSH COOK
Sunshine, Birdsong And children drunk on Lemonade And laughter. That Welsh picnic Has lasted forty years And will last forty more In daydream And nightmare. The stream babbled Over pebbles, Fern fronds Brushed our sun-browned shins Till the dead sheep Slugged us in the guts. Bloated and bulbous, The body dammed the stream, Its lifeless eyes Crawling with life. Those pearly marbles were A child’s looking glass into death. The rocks we hurled at it In reckless revulsion Were the screams Of violated youth, And those empty dead sheep thuds The dawning of our mortality.
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Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 3:20 AM UTC
Lemonade with a Dead Sheep
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The literary Chankley Bore, The paths are hard, for you are not A literary Hottentot But just a kind and cultured dame Who knows not Eliot (to her shame). Fie on you, aunt, that you should see No genius in David G., No elemental form and sound In T.S.E. and Ezra Pound. Fie on you, aunt! I'll show you how To elevate your middle brow, And how to scale and see the sights From modernist Parnassian heights. First buy a hat, no Paris model But one the Swiss wear when they yodel, A bowler thing with one or two Feathers to conceal the view; And then in sandals walk the street (All modern painters use their feet For painting, on their canvas strips, Their wives or mothers, minus hips). Perhaps it would be best if you Created something very new, A ***** novel done in Erse Or written backwards in Welsh verse, Or paintings on the backs of vests, Or Sanskrit psalms on lepers' chests. But if this proved imposs-i-ble Perhaps it would be just as well, For you could then write what you please, And modern verse is done with ease. Do not forget that 'limpet' rhymes With 'strumpet' in these troubled times, And commas are the worst of crimes; Few understand the works of Cummings, And few James Joyce's mental slummings, And few young Auden's coded chatter; But then it is the few that matter. Never be lucid, never state, If you would be regarded great, The simplest thought or sentiment, (For thought, we know, is decadent); Never omit such vital words As belly, genitals and -----, For these are things that play a part (And what a part) in all good art. Remember this: each rose is wormy, And every lovely woman's germy; Remember this: that love depends On how the Gallic letter bends; Remember, too, that life is hell And even heaven has a smell Of putrefying angels who Make deadly whoopee in the blue. These things remembered, what can stop A poet going to the top? A final word: before you start The convulsions of your art, Remove your brains, take out your heart; Minus these curses, you can be A genius like David G. Take courage, aunt, and send your stuff To Geoffrey Grigson with my luff, And may I yet live to admire How well your poems light the fire.
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6.5k
A Letter To My Aunt
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The literary Chankley Bore, The paths are hard, for you are not A literary Hottentot But just a kind and cultured dame Who knows not Eliot (to her shame). Fie on you, aunt, that you should see No genius in David G., No elemental form and sound In T.S.E. and Ezra Pound. Fie on you, aunt! I'll show you how To elevate your middle brow, And how to scale and see the sights From modernist Parnassian heights. First buy a hat, no Paris model But one the Swiss wear when they yodel, A bowler thing with one or two Feathers to conceal the view; And then in sandals walk the street (All modern painters use their feet For painting, on their canvas strips, Their wives or mothers, minus hips). Perhaps it would be best if you Created something very new, A ***** novel done in Erse Or written backwards in Welsh verse, Or paintings on the backs of vests, Or Sanskrit psalms on lepers' chests. But if this proved imposs-i-ble Perhaps it would be just as well, For you could then write what you please, And modern verse is done with ease. Do not forget that 'limpet' rhymes With 'strumpet' in these troubled times, And commas are the worst of crimes; Few understand the works of Cummings, And few James Joyce's mental slummings, And few young Auden's coded chatter; But then it is the few that matter. Never be lucid, never state, If you would be regarded great, The simplest thought or sentiment, (For thought, we know, is decadent); Never omit such vital words As belly, genitals and -----, For these are things that play a part (And what a part) in all good art. Remember this: each rose is wormy, And every lovely woman's germy; Remember this: that love depends On how the Gallic letter bends; Remember, too, that life is hell And even heaven has a smell Of putrefying angels who Make deadly whoopee in the blue. These things remembered, what can stop A poet going to the top? A final word: before you start The convulsions of your art, Remove your brains, take out your heart; Minus these curses, you can be A genius like David G. Take courage, aunt, and send your stuff To Geoffrey Grigson with my luff, And may I yet live to admire How well your poems light the fire.
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67
i still straddle the fence on this immigration reform manifesto i see both sides of the story it's good to have the grandfather clause for the immigrants in my bloodstream - the scrappy scots-irish-ingles-welsh in me - but too late for the cherokee behind the old fences of history. r ~ 11/9/14
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
immigration reform
Off to the park a picnic yeah three women a wean and a man who don't scare well not too easily... as long as the swings don't make him queasily up the slide ok wee girl she's gonna fall my toes all curl nope she seems to have it dialled little hurricane dynamo child then the swings for about12 seconds three turns on the roundabout maybe less I reckon then back to the slide God I am puffed hasn't the wee girl had enough? Ok I grab achicken roll two bites its in a muddy hole this picnic is turning out to be endurance playing for Jeremy tried the kids swing I got jammed like wearing steel Y-fronts my privates were crammed ok so it was all my choice I say in a funny high-pitched voice "Jesus go up" I am told so I go Only she calls me that now you know where she got it who can guess got an idea won't confess (better than being a skinny Welsh Tw*t) starting to flag like I smoked a *** need an emergency sicky bag go home soon and lie down quick after picnic and playing I am quite sick
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Mar 3, 2011
Mar 3, 2011 at 7:55 AM UTC
Picnic Yeah
The City of Derby holds her breath amidst the crisis of historical ramblings and talkative expressions of inhibition. Do not be deceived. Roaches are not mere insects, but are also three-course celebrations of haunting and religious engagements. There are Peaks which lie beyond the stratospheres of Leek. Although the parameters of yesteryear project their own splendour, let us acknowledge the silver hair which drips with eternal statements of antagonistic adoration in Curzon Street. Oh, rose of Sharon, in my sheer lack of understanding, I do not invalidate those instructions to depart from Birmingham New Street. I have deeply immersed myself in Welsh pools of genuine loss, and have found a precious commodity which I had never beheld in former lifetimes. Furthermore, I lament the loss of such generational integrity.
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Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
The Mother of Hibiscus Syriacus
i. Today, O' today I got her letter in the mail; Filled with pictures of mine Queen, she sent me Poems done by me, in her Calligraphy. ii. Today O' today I got lipstick kisses on Her notes, the red stood Out of all she wrote; As her amour was So fine. iii. Today O' today Anon mine spirit's soared, That fashionable vellum O' I adored. O' Jane Sardua, O' Jane of Earl. O' rose of Asia; The Luzon's pearl. iv. Today O' today I smiled again, because mine lover, And mine best friend. Her ardent sonnet Displayed her touch, grabbing mine soul, In heaven's blush, silently tear's came to a rush; from joy's overtaking. v. Today O' today O'er the blue, I made mine stay. Consatero, ah veray, Queen Jane, Queen Jane, Of Asia's praise; Today O' today How I fell in Love again. ©,Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poets poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
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Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Heddiw O ' heddiw, Sut i syrthio mewn cariad eto ( Today O' today, How i fell in love again) old welsh tongue
A seventies child Born in Wales, one of the four Countries of The UK. I remember brown as the colour of the day. Fabric embossed wallpaper all the neighbours names, who married who, who was carrying on, the alcoholic, the beaten wives, Even, get this the peadophiles (or kiddy fiddlers as was known) Dai the milk, Mair the bread, the shop of infinite items. Rugby practice for dad, baking for mam (Cake and babies) gossip over the garden hedge Fish on a Friday a Sunday roast, hot sweet tea. Bubble and squeak, post delivered before you left for school. Mist on the mountain, dew on the grass. Welsh valley life, sounds idyllic but scratch the surface and a darker colour than brown emerges. Petty squablings leading to familial feuds, the Williamses don't get on with the Joneses, and as for the Pritchards, less said the better. School, local, no not for me. I was sent to a Welsh School, taught and learnt the language denied to my Parents by English politics. Cat amongst the pigeons there. Did I think I was special? Ideas above her station. That's what the neighbours say. Well, you all had the option. Dr Forbes FRCS Delivered babies buried men and women Loved by all, especially his lollipop sweets. I wasn't a child to get ***** or rip wrapping paper off of gifts, I liked to go under the stairs (like Harry Potter) and read. I left the dirt for my sister born 4 years later. Then in 1982 came my brother, tidy my mother describes it. '74,'78,'82 poor dad to have to wait I say! More pubs than chapels, more walking than driving more rain than sun, more music than ever was sung. The '80's came, and we had strikes, no electric, candles toast made with a toasting fork over the fire. No mines, no steel, no jobs. Picket lines, dole queues, women in work latchkey kids, Thatcherism, ******* times. Falklands war, IRA bombs, Royal weddings Tory rule But, the fire in the dragon never went out and Tom Jones still sings his heart out. Cymru cysglyd gwlad y gân, deffrwch nawr, dyma'ch tro.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
70's Childhood in Wales.
A seventies child Born in Wales, one of the four Countries of The UK. I remember brown as the colour of the day. Fabric embossed wallpaper all the neighbours names, who married who, who was carrying on, the alcoholic, the beaten wives, Even, get this the peadophiles (or kiddy fiddlers as was known) Dai the milk, Mair the bread, the shop of infinite items. Rugby practice for dad, baking for mam (Cake and babies) gossip over the garden hedge Fish on a Friday a Sunday roast, hot sweet tea. Bubble and squeak, post delivered before you left for school. Mist on the mountain, dew on the grass. Welsh valley life, sounds idyllic but scratch the surface and a darker colour than brown emerges. Petty squablings leading to familial feuds, the Williamses don't get on with the Joneses, and as for the Pritchards, less said the better. School, local, no not for me. I was sent to a Welsh School, taught and learnt the language denied to my Parents by English politics. Cat amongst the pigeons there. Did I think I was special? Ideas above her station. That's what the neighbours say. Well, you all had the option. Dr Forbes FRCS Delivered babies buried men and women Loved by all, especially his lollipop sweets. I wasn't a child to get ***** or rip wrapping paper off of gifts, I liked to go under the stairs (like Harry Potter) and read. I left the dirt for my sister born 4 years later. Then in 1982 came my brother, tidy my mother describes it. '74,'78,'82 poor dad to have to wait I say! More pubs than chapels, more walking than driving more rain than sun, more music than ever was sung. The '80's came, and we had strikes, no electric, candles toast made with a toasting fork over the fire. No mines, no steel, no jobs. Picket lines, dole queues, women in work latchkey kids, Thatcherism, ******* times. Falklands war, IRA bombs, Royal weddings Tory rule But, the fire in the dragon never went out and Tom Jones still sings his heart out. Cymru cysglyd gwlad y gân, deffrwch nawr, dyma'ch tro.
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47
High on the mountain, overlooking the valley, the valley where I was born, is a wooden bench. Standing to attention are the bottom of the deep V are houses, all the same, all in a row. From the bench the village can be watched It's comings and goings, the neighbours gossiping talking about nothing and everything. Everyone is there down below, John the butcher, Dai the milk, Mair the bread, Oliver's shop, where anything and everything was for sale. A picturesque Welsh valley, where everyone is actually Psychotic, and where you'll never leave except in a coffin feet first. Those of us that get out, stay out. Old feuds still burn, families not talking, not remembering how it started. Chocolate box prettiness masks the tension, the hate, the jealousies, the negativity held in the ***** of the valley. How green was my valley? It wasn't green, it's colour was red, like a hell fire. Oh, the trees were green, the mountain was glorious but that valley was poison.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Mountain bench
When I ordered Welsh Rabbit, a rabbit wasn't included. The restaurant ripped me off, that was what I concluded. All that I was served was some cheese on toast. I soon learned that the chef wasn't a nice host. I wanted a rabbit and that was what I demanded. He threw me out the door because he said I needed to be reprimanded. i was upset at that chef so I decided to enter his restaurant again. When he was through I thought they'd have to call my next of kin. He burned my **** with his stove and hit my head with a frying pan. I soon learned that when that chef gets riled, he's a dangerous man. If you order Welsh Rabbit at his restaurant and ask for a rabbit, he will say no. And for your own safety you should leave his restaurant peacefully, just let it go.
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
A Rabbit Wasn't Included
Father's Day was yesterday. But why must a day be set aside to show a parent love? I love my parents all year round I've fought, screamed, cried all the while loving them. But, my country breeds strong independent people national identity to be found everywhere. From the hilltop spring to the coast we Welsh are a mystical breed, of mystery and sorcery. My anthem "Mae hen wlad fy nhadau" or Land of my fathers made me stop and think, think of my father and other men in this land. Rough handed, hewn from steel and coal. Iron willed, fiercely proud. Valley born I am, even now I'm in a city. But when I die Valley dead I'll lie. In my father's plot, set aside for us. Set aside on a green mountain overlooking the valley. The land of my fathers, the land that bred him and me. This poem is in English oh "uch a fi" But if I write in Welsh my father will not understand His generation denied the language of song, poetry, and identity. I have a happy heart "calon hapus" For he and I will be forever tied by blood and country. Father's Day for me and all children born of woman lay claim to Father's Day all year round.
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
Wales-Cymru. Land of my father.
ewe wanna learn how to talk tidy like all us welsh valley folk do we don't know a coat from a jacket we don't know a boot from a shoe we live up the road down by there shoulder length cropped curly hair got permanent jobs on the fiddle two houses,and mines in the middle my mothers a tea total binger blonde headed brunette called ginger she always go out for a night in to bingo she finds exciting did you see that wind? hear that snow?watch that song? who's coat is that jacket? and there it was....gone
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Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 12:31 PM UTC
talk tidy
Men of the Twenty-first Up by the Chalk Pit Wood, Weak with our wounds and our thirst, Wanting our sleep and our food, After a day and a night -- God, shall we ever forget! Beaten and broke in the fight, But sticking it -- sticking it yet. Trying to hold the line, Fainting and spent and done, Always the thud and the whine, Always the yell of the *** Northumerland, Lancaster, York, Durham and Somerset, Fighting alone, worn to the bone, But sticking it -- sticking it yet. Never a message of hope! Never a word of cheer! Fronting Hill 70's shell-swept slope, With the dull dead plain in our rear. Always the whine of the shell, Always the roar of its burst, Always the tortures of hell, As waiting and wincing we cursed Our luck and the guns and the Boche, When our Corporal shouted, "Stand to!" And I heard some one cry, "Clear the front for the Guards!" And the Guards came through. Our throats they were parched and hot, But Lord, if you'd heard the cheers! Irish and Welsh and Scot, Coldstream and Grenadiers. Two brigades, if you please, Dressing as straight as a hem, We -- we were down on our knees, Praying for us and for them! Lord, I could speak for a week, But how could you understand! How should your cheeks be wet, Such feelin's don't come to you. But when can me or my mates forget, When the Guards came through? "Five yards left extend!" It passed from rank to rank. Line after line with never a bend, And a touch of the London swank. A trifle of swank and dash, Cool as a home parade, Twinkle and glitter and flash, Flinching never a shade, With the shrapnel right in their face Doing their Hyde Park stunt, Keeping their swing at an easy pace, Arms at the trail, eyes front! Man, it was great to see! Man, it was fine to do! It's a cot and a hospital ward for me, But I'll tell'em in Blighty, whereever I be, How the Guards came through.
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3.1k
The Guards Came Through
Men of the Twenty-first Up by the Chalk Pit Wood, Weak with our wounds and our thirst, Wanting our sleep and our food, After a day and a night -- God, shall we ever forget! Beaten and broke in the fight, But sticking it -- sticking it yet. Trying to hold the line, Fainting and spent and done, Always the thud and the whine, Always the yell of the *** Northumerland, Lancaster, York, Durham and Somerset, Fighting alone, worn to the bone, But sticking it -- sticking it yet. Never a message of hope! Never a word of cheer! Fronting Hill 70's shell-swept slope, With the dull dead plain in our rear. Always the whine of the shell, Always the roar of its burst, Always the tortures of hell, As waiting and wincing we cursed Our luck and the guns and the Boche, When our Corporal shouted, "Stand to!" And I heard some one cry, "Clear the front for the Guards!" And the Guards came through. Our throats they were parched and hot, But Lord, if you'd heard the cheers! Irish and Welsh and Scot, Coldstream and Grenadiers. Two brigades, if you please, Dressing as straight as a hem, We -- we were down on our knees, Praying for us and for them! Lord, I could speak for a week, But how could you understand! How should your cheeks be wet, Such feelin's don't come to you. But when can me or my mates forget, When the Guards came through? "Five yards left extend!" It passed from rank to rank. Line after line with never a bend, And a touch of the London swank. A trifle of swank and dash, Cool as a home parade, Twinkle and glitter and flash, Flinching never a shade, With the shrapnel right in their face Doing their Hyde Park stunt, Keeping their swing at an easy pace, Arms at the trail, eyes front! Man, it was great to see! Man, it was fine to do! It's a cot and a hospital ward for me, But I'll tell'em in Blighty, whereever I be, How the Guards came through.
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59
All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter? I spoke a tongue that was passed on To me in the place I happened to be, A place huddled between grey walls Of cloud for at least half the year. My word for heaven was not yours. The word for hell had a sharp edge Put on it by the hand of the wind Honing, honing with a shrill sound Day and night. Nothing that Glyn Dwr Knew was armour against the rain's Missiles. What was descent from him? Even God had a Welsh name: He spoke to him in the old language; He was to have a peculiar care For the Welsh people. History showed us He was too big to be nailed to the wall Of a stone chapel, yet still we crammed him Between the boards of a black book. Yet men sought us despite this. My high cheek-bones, my length of skull Drew them as to a rare portrait By a dead master. I saw them stare From their long cars, as I passed knee-deep In ewes and wethers. I saw them stand By the thorn hedges, watching me string The far flocks on a shrill whistle. And always there was their eyes; strong Pressure on me: You are Welsh, they said; Speak to us so; keep your fields free Of the smell of petrol, the loud roar Of hot tractors; we must have peace And quietness. Is a museum Peace? I asked. Am I the keeper Of the heart's relics, blowing the dust In my own eyes? I am a man; I never wanted the drab role Life assigned me, an actor playing To the past's audience upon a stage Of earth and stone; the absurd label Of birth, of race hanging askew About my shoulders. I was in prison Until you came; your voice was a key Turning in the enormous lock Of hopelessness. Did the door open To let me out or yourselves in?
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3.1k
A Welsh Testament
All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter? I spoke a tongue that was passed on To me in the place I happened to be, A place huddled between grey walls Of cloud for at least half the year. My word for heaven was not yours. The word for hell had a sharp edge Put on it by the hand of the wind Honing, honing with a shrill sound Day and night. Nothing that Glyn Dwr Knew was armour against the rain's Missiles. What was descent from him? Even God had a Welsh name: He spoke to him in the old language; He was to have a peculiar care For the Welsh people. History showed us He was too big to be nailed to the wall Of a stone chapel, yet still we crammed him Between the boards of a black book. Yet men sought us despite this. My high cheek-bones, my length of skull Drew them as to a rare portrait By a dead master. I saw them stare From their long cars, as I passed knee-deep In ewes and wethers. I saw them stand By the thorn hedges, watching me string The far flocks on a shrill whistle. And always there was their eyes; strong Pressure on me: You are Welsh, they said; Speak to us so; keep your fields free Of the smell of petrol, the loud roar Of hot tractors; we must have peace And quietness. Is a museum Peace? I asked. Am I the keeper Of the heart's relics, blowing the dust In my own eyes? I am a man; I never wanted the drab role Life assigned me, an actor playing To the past's audience upon a stage Of earth and stone; the absurd label Of birth, of race hanging askew About my shoulders. I was in prison Until you came; your voice was a key Turning in the enormous lock Of hopelessness. Did the door open To let me out or yourselves in?
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47
High the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam Islanded in Severn stream; The bridges from the steepled crest Cross the water east and west. The flag of morn in conqueror's state Enters at the English gate: The vanquished eve, as night prevails, Bleeds upon the road to Wales. Ages since the vanquished bled Round my mother's marriage-bed; There the ravens feasted far About the open house of war: When Severn down to Buildwas ran Coloured with the death of man, Couched upon her brother's grave That Saxon got me on the slave. The sound of fight is silent long That began the ancient wrong; Long the voice of tears is still That wept of old the endless ill. In my heart it has not died, The war that sleeps on Severn side; They cease not fighting, east and west, On the marches of my breat. Here the truceless armies yet Trample, rolled in blood and sweat; They **** and **** and never die; And I think that each is I. None will part us, none undo The knot that makes one flesh of two, Sick with hatred, sick with pain, Strangling--When shall we be slain? When shall I be dead and rid Of the wrong my father did? How long, how long, till ***** and hearse Puts to sleep my mother's curse?
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3.1k
The Welsh Marches
I could lie in bed through the whole, long morning but as the gentle, Welsh sun peeks through the crack between my curtains, I stretch my legs
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Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
Boreuau
Iago Prytherch his name, though, be it allowed, Just an ordinary man of the bald Welsh hills, Who pens a few sheep in a gap of cloud. Docking mangels, chipping the green skin From the yellow bones with a half-witted grin Of satisfaction, or churning the crude earth To a stiff sea of clods that glint in the wind— So are his days spent, his spittled mirth Rarer than the sun that cracks the cheeks Of the gaunt sky perhaps once in a week. And then at night see him fixed in his chair Motionless, except when he leans to gob in the fire. There is something frightening in the vacancy of his mind. His clothes, sour with years of sweat And animal contact, shock the refined, But affected, sense with their stark naturalness. Yet this is your prototype, who, season by season Against siege of rain and the wind's attrition, Preserves his stock, an impregnable fortress Not to be stormed, even in death's confusion. Remember him, then, for he, too, is a winner of wars, Enduring like a tree under the curious stars.
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2.8k
A Peasant
A privet hedge..a broken gate the House with a roof tiled with Welsh slate, a broken half open window from which the light throws shadows on the lawn..G'awn be off with you a Cockney voice shouts out. The Camera pans. A street,quite neat and real rare around these parts..two lovers on the corner sharing hearts..as if they could beat as one.. Move on there movie man the cop shouts from the black and tan. The camera pans. Traffic light that's stuck on green..a crowd gathers." I've never seen the like "..An old girls cry.."Someone will get hurt or even die,call the police "..as if they would bother their fat *** cans.. The camera pans. It spins and spins upon its pins and captures you and me..and writes in Avatars of cars and flouting clouds of blues and whites,which balance out the unfilmed nights when cameras close their cyclop eyes and digitals tell no more lies. I rise early like a bird..I heard a camera crew is coming down to film some scenes in my home town. An expectant hush An excited rush and then The camera pans.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 1:34 PM UTC
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'But that was nothing to what things came out From the sea-caves of Criccieth yonder.' 'What were they? Mermaids? dragons? ghosts?' 'Nothing at all of any things like that.' 'What were they, then?' 'All sorts of queer things, Things never seen or heard or written about, Very strange, un-Welsh, utterly peculiar Things. Oh, solid enough they seemed to touch, Had anyone dared it. Marvellous creation, All various shapes and sizes, and no sizes, All new, each perfectly unlike his neighbour, Though all came moving slowly out together.' 'Describe just one of them.' 'I am unable.' 'What were their colours?' 'Mostly nameless colours, Colours you'd like to see; but one was puce Or perhaps more like crimson, but not purplish. Some had no colour.' 'Tell me, had they legs?' 'Not a leg or foot among them that I saw.' 'But did these things come out in any order?' What o'clock was it? What was the day of the week? Who else was present? How was the weather?' 'I was coming to that. It was half-past three On Easter Tuesday last. The sun was shining. The Harlech Silver Band played Marchog Jesu On thrity-seven shimmering instruments Collecting for Caernarvon's (Fever) Hospital Fund. The populations of Pwllheli, Criccieth, Portmadoc, Borth, Tremadoc, Penrhyndeudraeth, Were all assembled. Criccieth's mayor addressed them First in good Welsh and then in fluent English, Twisting his fingers in his chain of office, Welcoming the things. They came out on the sand, Not keeping time to the band, moving seaward Silently at a snail's pace. But at last The most odd, indescribable thing of all Which hardly one man there could see for wonder Did something recognizably a something.' 'Well, what?' 'It made a noise.' 'A frightening noise?' 'No, no.' 'A musical noise? A noise of scuffling?' 'No, but a very loud, respectable noise --- Like groaning to oneself on Sunday morning In Chapel, close before the second psalm.' 'What did the mayor do?' 'I was coming to that.'
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2.8k
Welsh Incident
'But that was nothing to what things came out From the sea-caves of Criccieth yonder.' 'What were they? Mermaids? dragons? ghosts?' 'Nothing at all of any things like that.' 'What were they, then?' 'All sorts of queer things, Things never seen or heard or written about, Very strange, un-Welsh, utterly peculiar Things. Oh, solid enough they seemed to touch, Had anyone dared it. Marvellous creation, All various shapes and sizes, and no sizes, All new, each perfectly unlike his neighbour, Though all came moving slowly out together.' 'Describe just one of them.' 'I am unable.' 'What were their colours?' 'Mostly nameless colours, Colours you'd like to see; but one was puce Or perhaps more like crimson, but not purplish. Some had no colour.' 'Tell me, had they legs?' 'Not a leg or foot among them that I saw.' 'But did these things come out in any order?' What o'clock was it? What was the day of the week? Who else was present? How was the weather?' 'I was coming to that. It was half-past three On Easter Tuesday last. The sun was shining. The Harlech Silver Band played Marchog Jesu On thrity-seven shimmering instruments Collecting for Caernarvon's (Fever) Hospital Fund. The populations of Pwllheli, Criccieth, Portmadoc, Borth, Tremadoc, Penrhyndeudraeth, Were all assembled. Criccieth's mayor addressed them First in good Welsh and then in fluent English, Twisting his fingers in his chain of office, Welcoming the things. They came out on the sand, Not keeping time to the band, moving seaward Silently at a snail's pace. But at last The most odd, indescribable thing of all Which hardly one man there could see for wonder Did something recognizably a something.' 'Well, what?' 'It made a noise.' 'A frightening noise?' 'No, no.' 'A musical noise? A noise of scuffling?' 'No, but a very loud, respectable noise --- Like groaning to oneself on Sunday morning In Chapel, close before the second psalm.' 'What did the mayor do?' 'I was coming to that.'
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There is a certain mystique about Essex County where Wiccan boutiques smite the eyes with linguistic confusion. Salaam reminds me of cold meat and Shalom reminds me of Welsh breakfasts even though the 1700s knew nothing of peace. So, now that we almost reach the threshold of Spring Aequus Nox, I commend Julius Caesar for his respect towards atmospheric refraction. We need to talk. Come on, and let us delve into classical and mythological philosophies where games of death are an aphrodisiac with a sprinkling of risqué.
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Invisible Regions of the Cosmos
With a Jewish religion and a German Queen, Who has a clue where the Brits have been? Mum’s clan were Huguenots, Dad’s maybe Welsh. Lots of Africans in our football teams. Keep out those immigrants many do say, Even those whose parents came from Bombay. We’ve lots of patriots from Pakistan: The younger generation, Brits to a man. But some are Radicals I hear you say, We should be sending them on their way, Back to Asia where they belong, To the tunes of a UKIP song. So what is “British” we must ask, For this is not an easy task. Justice and Democracy I hear you shout, Tiny islands with some clout. Shakespeare, Beatles, Rugby Lions, Churchill clapping foes in irons. Let’s be glad that we are free And settle down to a cuppa tea. Paul Butters
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 5:47 AM UTC
True Brit
Matrilineality is the tracing of descent through the female line corresponding to a societal system in which each person is identified with their matriline;              – their _mother's_ image – and which can involve the inheritance of property and/or titles. A matriline is                                      a line of descent from a common female ancestor to a descendant of either *** in which the individuals in all intervening                           generations are mothers – in other words, a "mother line". In matrilineal descent,                           individuals belong to the same group as their mother.                                                      The matriline of historical nobility was also called the _enatic_ or     _Uterine_ ancestry; From Middle English wombe, wambe, from Old English womb, wamb (“belly, stomach; bowels; heart; womb; hollow”), from Proto-Germanic *wambō (“belly, stomach, abdomen”), from Proto-Indo-European *wamp- (“membrane (of bowels), intestines, womb”). Cognate with Scots wam, wame (“womb”), Dutch wam (“dewlap of beef; belly of a fish”), German Wamme, Wampe (“paunch, belly”), Danish vom (“belly, paunch, rumen”), Swedish våmb (“belly, stomach, rumen”), Norwegian vomb (“belly”), Icelandic vömb (“belly, abdomen, stomach”),              Old Welsh gumbelauc (“womb”), Breton gwamm (“woman, wife”), Sanskrit वपा (vapā́, “the skin or membrane lining the intestines or parts of the viscera, the caul or omentum”).
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 10:37 PM UTC
Matrilineality [for Uterinism]
Matrilineality is the tracing of descent through the female line corresponding to a societal system in which each person is identified with their matriline;              – their _mother's_ image – and which can involve the inheritance of property and/or titles. A matriline is                                      a line of descent from a common female ancestor to a descendant of either *** in which the individuals in all intervening                           generations are mothers – in other words, a "mother line". In matrilineal descent,                           individuals belong to the same group as their mother.                                                      The matriline of historical nobility was also called the _enatic_ or     _Uterine_ ancestry; From Middle English wombe, wambe, from Old English womb, wamb (“belly, stomach; bowels; heart; womb; hollow”), from Proto-Germanic *wambō (“belly, stomach, abdomen”), from Proto-Indo-European *wamp- (“membrane (of bowels), intestines, womb”). Cognate with Scots wam, wame (“womb”), Dutch wam (“dewlap of beef; belly of a fish”), German Wamme, Wampe (“paunch, belly”), Danish vom (“belly, paunch, rumen”), Swedish våmb (“belly, stomach, rumen”), Norwegian vomb (“belly”), Icelandic vömb (“belly, abdomen, stomach”),              Old Welsh gumbelauc (“womb”), Breton gwamm (“woman, wife”), Sanskrit वपा (vapā́, “the skin or membrane lining the intestines or parts of the viscera, the caul or omentum”).
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