Poetry Smackdown

In anticipation of the all important footy match, next Thursday night, the 'baad bard of Bridgend' takes on the Cervantes of Cyprus, in a 'Poetry Smackdown'.

Both of these verse warriors are on the books of Lulu and for you to really appreciate the fare on offer, you need to invest in their creativity by purchasing one of their volumes of poetry. If you want Wales to win on Thursday you should buy one of David Williams books and if you want Cyprus to win, you really should purchase the superior quality and range of Kyriakos Sorokkou. Keep an eye out for this post on Social Media as we get closer to Thursday as each Poet will try and outdo the other one with words that either eulogise or despise their respective countries.

The City of New Orleans

I was in a Prison Cell in Amsterdam in 2005 when Hurricane Katrina hit the City of New Orleans and for my sins I believed that it was a sign from God. I am a little embarrassed to admit this now but in my heightened state, my mood persuaded me that the world was in for a rude awakening, an awakening that I had been forced to experience.  20 years previously I had been in the city and I arrived on a Greyhound Bus. What better way to announce the arrival of the Shark Fisherman than at 1001 Loyola Avenue. Ronnie Reagan was in the White House and Bush Senior a blip on the skyline. I remember being very angry with George Bush Junior in 2005 believing that many bodies were buried under the big W.   He had been President in 2001 when the Twin Towers were hit and now here we were again with not a 'man made' disaster but nature's wrath and he was to prove incompetent in his reaction to both events. They called Ronald Reagan a cowboy but there was no greater cowboy than George W who now struts around like a clown oblivious to the legacy that he has left the world. 

In 1985 I remember looking up in awe at the Superdome which was to house and home the dispossessed in 2005. It never crossed my 19 year old mind that I as a 39 year old would be sitting in a Prison Cell watching the same city drown. In my cell, I was especially drawn to the images of prisoners in orange jump suits standing in the roadways being guarded by armed police. I thought now is the time to take over.  A 'revolution' but it didn't happen but 2014/2015 and the revolution is happening on the streets of Ferguson and in the hearts and minds of American citizens. Centuries & decades of social injustice and oppression is now seeping out in violent ways and guns are the currency of control. It was the only place that I encountered the aftermath of a violent act in the States. Somebody had shot at a taxi driver and I saw the bullet hole in the wing mirror of the vehicle, moments after the attack.  The one overriding image from 1985 New Orleans is the sight of a large black man playing saxophone wonderfully in Bourbon Street with shoe boxes on his feet instead of shoes.  

Aberashley

Whilst sipping my 170 milligrams of filtered 'Bae Ceredigion' coffee, nibbling my carrot cake, be-topped with tomato, serrano chilis, fish, pumpkin seeds, and then washing the residue from my lips with a celery and water melon smoothie, a wry smile crossed my chops as I read Page 3 of the super soaraway 'Cambrian News'. The headline read 'More than 250 from Aberystwyth are users of adultery website. ' Now we know that the 'Snooze' has credible sources after it's gun toting, tippex waving expose of the General Election but 'Bodice Ripping' in Aberystwyth? Scarcely Believe. We are told that "the vast majority of users live in the more heavily populated areas such as Cardiff which has 6,000 users, Swansea with 3,000 users and Newport which has 1,200 registered users." No mention of Wrexham or Holyhead? No, they have their own specially tailored websites in the North. 'Baaar Humbug' I hear, the sexy, liberated, chiffon wearing hippies of West Wales cry. "Free Love, man". Well I'm sorry good gel, this is not 1971 Llanddewi Brefi we are talking about here, The Rainbow People are not walking around barefoot on the village green. This is the wobbling mass of humanity that trundles down Great Darkgate Street in it's Poundland Crocs! If Laura Ashley had not been taken over by the Retail God Tescos it could have re-opened as 'Ashley Madison'. Your One Stop/Pop-In/Pop-Up shop.  
The Cambrian News goes on to salivate "According to the same source, more than nine in 10 users of the site across Welsh towns were men". Well 'quelle surprise'. We all know that men are beasts and Dai Bando, the bard of Rhigos has always said in his poetry that 'Welshmen will f*ck a frog on the hop' or a 'broga on the naid' to go fully bilingual. So there are 250 male adulterers in Aber. That means that there are 25 females, hussies wearing red dresses parading along the Prom. So why is this of interest to the super single Shark Fisherman of Wales who still cannot figure out 'genitalial interaction'. Well I am fascinated by the dark side of human psychology and how it surfaces in the mundane. I have written a Blog Post about 'SECS' before and the comment at the end is perhaps more interesting than the post itself. Perhaps on the more charitable side, you should read a Blog Post by a geezer who sounds as if he knows what he's talking about.  Right, I'm off into town to get me some 'un-adulterated action'.   

Militant Mental Health

https://www.facebook.com/MilitantMentalHealth/info?tab=page_info&edited=long_desc

https://twitter.com/MilitantMental?lang=en-gb

Me and me ol mucker, Yorkshireman Martin Crozier  have started a Facebook Page called Militant Mental Health. For Peeps who believe that Mental Health is political. My own descent into depression and social isolation began in 1979, the same year that Thatcher came to power, A co-incidence? I don't think so. This country is still grieving the effects of her dictatorship and it seems fitting to use the Type style of the Liverpool Tendency of the early 1980s to make our point. Nature plays a part in Mental Health but Nurture even more so. Your environment, your community, your wider family. With the disintegration of community came an emphasis on the individual, on the ego and on wealth and the accumulation of such. 

Capitalism does not lend itself to 'Good Mental Health'

The Facebook group is open to anybody but we expect Trolls. Right Wingers, Tories, Fascists, Kippers will not be welcome because we hold you and your views responsible for a deterioration in the collective mental health malaise.   

Photo courtesy of https://www.facebook.com/RandomAnarchistShit?fref=photo

The Discipline of Deadlines

Since completing an M.A in Playwriting in May 2014 I have written nothing, zilch, dim. What a waste of an M.A but very recently in the last week in fact I have entered two competitions. Two competitions that require the entrant to write a 10 minute Drama on a set theme and with a deadline, an actual date that you have to submit by and I have found that these two simple things, a theme and a deadline actually help the creative juices because a deadline says 'Get it done son' and I have got them done because they are only 10 minute pieces. You're not a proper playwright until you've had a weighty hour and an half on a stage in my humble and we've all had to sit through them and wish we were elsewhere, not mentioning any names, William Shakespeare, yes you Sir! You must have been smoking something to get all that down. Ten minutes is a start. Ten minutes where the young, witty, razor sharp audience get to listen and judge and give you marks and feedback. Even if yours is not chosen, the process itself of getting something sent in is accomplishment enough if you have been used to doing nothing like what I have! I thought it might be difficult to complete a story arc in 10 minutes but the time constraint again is a good discipline to push the action forward and to get rid of any waste and flannel of which I am renowned. Cut it down to the bone, then read it out loud in different voices or accents if you can. Does it sound good on the ear? Does the dialogue flow?  And what is also pleasing to me is that I am flexing my bilingual muscle. One of the pieces was in Welsh and the other in English. I always thought that I was better in English because that was the language that I was educated in but I am finding that once I allow the guards of the mind and the language police to take a tea break that I enjoy the process of writing in Welsh more, perhaps because of the novelty and because I am returning to source. I am thinking in English but writing what comes to me in Welsh. The task ahead now is like the adverts in salubrious periodicals 'Make it Longer'. I have to make it longer. I can keep bods hooked for ten minutes perhaps but half an hour, not sure and then the holy grail an hour, God Forbid! But that is the challenge, a challenge for me that needs a deadline and a theme because if you get a kick ass idea and it is not what people want, then thou hast been pissing in the wind which again in my book is tantamount to doing nowt especially for one who doesn't enjoy the process of writing. I enjoy getting the idea and the theme, the setting and the 'bastard' characters but writing it, that's a different story again. Lead on Macduff  

Red Robin

Red Robin

is the Shop Steward of the Bird World

He will represent and defend fellow birds

when tit bits fall below standard.

He will ensure that the bird feeder is in compliance

with all federal, state, local laws and regulations.

Don't try and collective bargain this baby out of the garden.

Red Robin will recruit new members

he will make sure that every new garden bird

pays their subscription in worms.

Regular meetings will be held at the table,
the dining room table if you start to mess Robbo about

If you think that you are Garden Manager 

Think Again!

  

Y Barnwr

Y Barnwr

Dwi'n casáu pobol barchus a phobol gommon yn gytûn

Dwi'n teimlo cas perffaith i rheina sydd yn llyfu tin

Fi ydi barnwr y bobol

yn fy wig swanc llwyd

Peidiwch dda chi peswch neu regi

neu gwelwch flaen fy nhroed

Dwi di ddarllen gormod ar y Beibl

a boddi teimladau yn fy ngwin

Dydy hwn ddim yn golygu ni allaf ganu

'God Save the Queen'

My love is like a seaside collecting box made out of a mine

My Love

is like a seaside collecting box made out of a mine.

Tic Toc, Tic Toc it's only a matter of time.

The wrong word, a look, a sniff

Tic Toc, we're on for another tiff.

If walking on eggshells was an Olympic Sport

I'd be a world champion, first off the court.

I've heard all these love songs that make it sound worthwhile

but in my experience

it's all about strength, cunning and guile.

Who has got the 'power strokes' today?

Have a guess, yeah and she's coming out to play.

She's wearing red with a fetching white stripe 

her antennae finely tuned  

and there's me bobbing along like a battle ship

unaware of her open wound

the sharks and killer whales are strangely silent now

'ZAP', 'BAM', she hits me with a Batman 'POW'

I'm reeling back through the coral reef

 seeing star fish, don't want no beef 

Call me a cynic, 

Yeah I know love is as perennial as the grass

pass me a phial of arsenic

I think I'd rather pass.

Cydwybod y Car

http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/331621732054?ssPageName=STRK:MEUNSOLD:IT&_trksid=p3984.m1560.l2649

Ddoe, Sadwrn roedd yn ddiwrnod llawn cyffro i mi oherwydd roeddwn yn gwerthu fy hen gar ar ebay neu bae-e yn y Gymraeg. Ers i ryw feddwyn slammo fewn iddo fe ar noson San Steffan diwethaf, dydy o ddim wedi bod yr un fath. Mi ddaeth y cyffro min nos gyda phedwar yn rhoi cais i mewn ond wnaethon nhw ddim cyrraedd beth maent yn ei alw'r 'reserve', yr isafswm roeddwn i am dderbyn amdano. Dyma'r tro cyntaf i mi werthu un rhywbeth ar bae-e ond ar y wefan boblogaidd yma brynais y car nol yn 2012. Doeddwn ddim wedi cael car ers 2005 oherwydd doeddwn ddim yn ffan o'r ffordd hon o drafnidiaeth ond roedd rhaid i mi deithio mwy aml nôl a blaen i'r Gorllewin a chyfleustra oedd ar fy meddwl ond bois bach mae o'n gostus i gadw car ar y lon y dyddiau yma gyda Threth, Yswiriant, Cost Petrol ac wedyn Gwasanaeth a MOT a hwn am hen gar. Mi wnes i ei hysbysebu fel 'Spares or Repair' oherwydd ar fy hoff ffordd, yr A487, yn Aberarth i fod yn fanwl gywir, mi wnaeth y revometer mynd dros ben llestri a thynnu siapiau arnaf ac erbyn hyn mae'r speedometer wedi pallu. Felli mewn cydwybod dda doeddwn ni ddim yn gallu ei werthu fel car gyda dyfodol. Am 6.40pm ddaeth yr ocsiwn i ben ac mi roeddwn yn falch fod neb wedi ei ennill oherwydd faswn ddim yn hapus erbyn hyn yn deud ta ta i'r peth a chymryd pres da rhywun amdano. Mi weles i wedyn fod Cymdeithas yr Iaith Gymraeg wedi defnyddio hen gar ar faes yr Eisteddfod i wneud pwynt am ddysgu Cymraeg fel ail-iaith yn ysgolion fel model sydd yn methu a ddaeth i'm meddwl efallai fuasai Cymdeithas yn  gallu ei ddefnyddio mewn protest yn y dyfodol. Dwi wedi cynnig o iddyn nhw ond ddim wedi clywed nôl eto. Os wnânt nhw ddim ffeindio defnydd iddo mi wnâi ofyn i ryw gwmni sydd yn ail-gylchu eich car i ddod i nôl o ac wedyn trosglwyddo unrhyw bres i elusen o'm dewis. Peth ofnadwy ydy cydwybod yn de! Wnaeth eich cydwybod byth arian ar eich rhan, ond drueni doedd dim cydwybod ar y diawl a wnaeth bwrw fi ar noson Sant Steffan a dreifio ffwrdd yng nghrombil y nos.

   

Self-Sabotage

This meme was stolen from

https://www.facebook.com/pluginjug

When you have a lot of time on your hands having made the decision not to work 'just for the sake of work' you come to realise some home truths and today's revelation is..........

"I believe that I have deliberately sabotaged my own life"

I have put 'deliberately' in italics because it may well have been subconscious but sabotaged it, I certainly have Ollie. Following on from the 'Freedom' blog as I look back, I can come to no other conclusion. Having had no plan and no ruthless streak I have bumbled through life doing what seemed like a good idea at the time whilst having the word 'writer' ticker taping in the back ground. Being someone who writes rather than a writer because calling yourself a writer implies that you get paid for your efforts. Are you a self sabotager? Have you taken action which has impacted badly upon your life? or have you been so inactive that this in itself has sabotaged any plans or dreams that you might have had. Sundays are very good days on which to dwell on such things. I used to dwell on them hung over and suffering from alcohol withdrawal. I used to look forward to Mondays to distract myself from the thoughts of a Sunday. Now I do not confine these thoughts to a Sunday, I spread them out throughout the week. I'm trying to work out whether it is a historic lack of confidence or pure disdain for the 'system' whatever that is. When I was in Prison, I was told by a Polish man, whose father had been in Auschwitz, that I would have to change. He had been a man of good character throughout his life but had yielded to temptation by agreeing to be a Drugs mule in his early sixties. He had agreed to sail a yacht carrying drugs and was apprehended in Dutch waters. He had accepted his sentence with good grace. I would not and could not accept my sentence. He told me this on the day that I was told by my solicitor that the prosecution were hoping to charge me with attempted bank robbery. That would have carried a sentence of a minimum of 8 years and on hearing this news my legs went like jelly, I went white /green and attended the work detail as usual. On seeing me, the caring Pole said "You have to change". He could see that the way I thought, affected my life. I know now that the way that I have thought has directly led to the life that I am living now. In the ten years that have elapsed I'm sure that I have changed. I was asked by a friend recently  "Are you scared of life now?" and my honest answer would have to be "Yes, I am".  As I bring this jolly blog post to a close I know two other things as well. I am leading a one man revolution against 'competing' and that in my mind 'I am still in prison'.

   

Byd y Blogiau

Mae'r blogiau'n ddylanwadol...

dyma beth maen nhw'n ei ddweud

Tudalen 9 Cylchgrawn Golwg heddiw

Cyfrol 27, Rhif 47, Awst 6 2015

Nid Cymro Confensiynol

Rhag i chi feddwl fy mod yn Mr Grintachlyd 'personified' dyma fi yn y post yma yn canmol enillydd Fedal Rhyddiaith ar faes y sioe (Eisteddfod) Tony Bianchi. Dwi ddim yn ei nabod ond dwi wedi ei weld yn seiclo o gwmpas y ddinas. Dwi wedi darllen un o'i lyfrau sef 'Cyffesion Geordie oddi cartref'. Efallai fydd o ddim yn rhy hapus fod rafin fath a fi yn rhoi cyhoeddusrwydd iddo mewn blog o'r safon yma ond dim ond edmygedd sydd ganai am ddyn a siaradodd Gymraeg am y tro cyntaf yn hogyn ddwy ar bymtheg oed. Dysgodd Tony Cymraeg pan fynychodd Coleg Prifysgol Llambed. Dywedodd, mewn cyfweliad yn y Western Mail, bod "ysgrifennu'n Gymraeg wedi cynnig rhyddid iddo drafod pethau a phobl na fyddai efallai wedi medru eu trafod yn yr un modd trwy ysgrifennu'n Saesneg." Dwi'n edmygu oherwydd ei fod wedi dangos diffuantrwydd gan sgrifennu mewn ail iaith ond efallai mai e yn ei alw yn iaith gyntaf erbyn hyn, ddim yn llythrennol ond yn feddyliol. Mae angen mwy o Tony Bianchis ar yr Iaith Cymraeg, bobol all ddod ai cefndir ai chyfoeth diwylliannol i wneud ein byd yn fwy diddorol. Achos dos dim byd gwaeth na Chymro confensiynol yn fy nhyb i.

http://golwg360.cymru/newyddion/cymru/195537-tony-bianchi-yn-ennill-y-fedal-ryddiaith

Cwympo rhwng dwy stôl

Dwi'n cwympo rhwng dwy stôl yn fan hyn! Dwi'n flin gyda'r sefydliad, a'r sefydliad Cymraeg are hyn o bryd ydy'r Eisteddfod. Efallai fy mod yn genfigennus o'r unigolion sydd yn ennill y cystadlaethau, yn sylweddoli na dawn fawr sydd ei angen i fod yn llwyddiannus. Hefyd sylweddoli fel 'sgriblwr' yn y ddwy iaith fy mod i ddim yn mynd i lwyddo yn un o’r ddau. Felli hen bwdryn sydd yn sgrifennu yn fan hyn ond un sydd wedi cael ei ysbrydoli i sgrifennu mwy yn Gymraeg. Gymraeg gwallus, bratiog fydd o ond o leiaf ddim Saesneg, yr iaith ges i fy addysgu ynddo. Ers prynu'r Cymro dydd Gwener ddiwethaf dwi di fod yn dilyn y stori ble mae Beirniaid Gwobr Goffa Daniel Owen wedi galw'r Heddlu i ymchwilio gwaith 'afiach' yn ei thyb nhw. Mae rhaid i ni gredu popeth mae'r sefydliad yn deud wrthon ni ac mae'n ddigon clir pa neges mae'r Eisteddfod wedi bod yn rhoi allan. 'Parchwch ni ac ein rheolau neu dda chi mi fyddwn yn dod ar eich ôl chi'.

Dwi wir yn teimlo fod y feirniadaeth a'r sylwadau yn deud mwy am y beirniaid nag awdur yr 'Pornograffi pedoffiliaid.' Mae rhaid i ni gymryd gair y Beirniad 'Ond pan does dim celf yno, a ’da chi’n cael eich hun yn meddwl am natur enaid yr awdur yn hytrach na’i gymeriadau… wel' Wel Be? Ffoniwch yr Heddlu? Cystadleuaeth Lenyddol ydy hon nid 'delweddau ffotograffig mewn cystadleuaeth celf weledol' felli beth sydd yn meddwl y Beirniad sydd yn fwy diddorol na beth sydd wedi sgrifennu lawr ar bapur. Dwi wir yn synnu ar y sylwad yma "Unwaith eto, pryder un neu ddau ohonom oedd y gallai’r ‘awdur’ ddatblygu i wireddu ei ffantasiâu." ar ol darllen darn o lenyddiaeth? Ydy o yn erbyn y gyfraith i sgrifennu'r fath beth? Well yn amlwg ddim oherwydd mae'r beirniad yn mynd ymlaen i weud "O be dwi wedi cael ar ddeall, methodd yr heddlu â darganfod unrhyw fforensics na thystiolaeth i allu canfod awdur y gwaith. Mi drïon nhw eu gorau yn ôl y son. Eu barn gyffredinol nhw oedd nad oedd yr awdur – yn dechnegol – wedi torri unrhyw gyfraith." Fforensics? A gafodd rhywun ei ladd yn fan hyn? A gafodd rhywun ei gam drin yn rhywiol yn fan hyn? Well do yn feddyliau'r Beirniaid a Phwyllgor yr Eisteddfod. Allai ddim dychmygu buasai’r un peth wedi digwydd yn Saesneg? Cystadleuaeth ble mae rhywun gyda rhesymau personol iddyn nhw wedi herio'r sefydliad gyda thywyllwch yr isymwybod. "Ar ôl 50 tudalen, tarais olwg sydyn trwy weddill y nofel a gweld mai'r un peth oedd drwyddi draw. Hynny yw, cam-drin plant (yn cynnwys treisio, a gwylio plant yn gadael ysgolion)."  Os taswn ni yn Feirniad mi faswn ni wedi rhoi'r gorau iddi ar ôl 5 tudalen os oedd y darn mor wael ag y mae'r beirniad yma yn ei honni. I'r bin ar ddarn a dim mwy o son amdani ond o na roedd rhaid i'r Eisteddfod gwneud mor a mynydd o hyn.

Freedom

I realised today, with a heavy heart, that I don't understand what 'Freedom' is. I'm sure I have it but I don't think that I have ever used it. I am free to live in a country that a lot of people in Calais would like to get into but what really is one free to do in this country? Free to shop (If you have money) Free to travel ( if you have the means to do so) Free to earn money (an oxymoron if ever there was one) Freedom to roam away from home but if you are not free in your mind then how can you ever be free? The people in the Calais Camp are quite possibly a lot freer than us. Freer in their minds. What did James Baldwin say 

So many of us have so much to lose! Our social standing (not me)
our reputation (not me) our homes and our families (?) our jobs (not me)

I am not free because Wales is not free.

 GB/UK PLC is not free of its colonial, imperialist past.

 Can white people ever be free if they invented

slavery?

I believe that a critical mass in this and every country are so scared and so institutionalised that they are unable to exercise their freedom. They do not know what their freedom is any more. Their freedom is now routine and tradition. Perhaps our Island people now need to shake it up a bit. How would our comfortable and complacent cope if we had to return to mother Africa, from whence we came? Shouldn't we really show true compassion and swap places with the people who want to come here. They will appreciate the freedom. They will perhaps see it for what it is. I cannot see this freedom any more because I have become institutionalised by school, by family, by work and by prison. I am scared to move.  If Cameron asked for volunteers on a one in, one out basis,

Would you go?  

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys Are Marching