Cymru/Wales: Bipolar Nation

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Friday 27 May 2022

Mae pobl ym mhla

 Mae pobl ym mhla

Maen nhw ym mhob man 

fel morgrug 🐜

Peidiwch ag oedi neu fydd na un

wedi parcio yn y lle a llygadwyd.

Mae nhw ar eich wâr

yn eich cesail a botwm bol

ar eich penelin ac yn eich gwallt

MAEN NHW YM MHOB MAN

Dwi di ddysgu ochr gamu bron mor dda

a Phil Bennett yn ei anterth

Mae cyrraedd gartref fel rhoi'r bel o dan y pyst.

Mae rhai eisiau siarad

Mae rhai eisiau eich cyffwrdd

Mae sawl un eisiau eich osgoi

Bob person yn felltith

Oni bai am y rhai a garwyd

am y rhai a gollwyd.  







Friday 20 May 2022

Chancer

Chancer

(Sweary Poetry)

 


Loud Cardiffian,

what we would once call a ruffian

on a boat out of Penarth Marina

called ‘Chancer’

Arrogant twat in a mack with a wife

and dog, a Jack.

Russell bestrode the nautical boulevard like a Colossus

with a T Shirt “Kill or be Killed”

The body language of a man who slumped on the grassy knoll

two bottles of red wine and a beaker from Subway.

A Lamborghini parked under CCTV

The gated community had turned their flats into a prison

with a fat concierge called Larry.

“Oh this Happy Band”

and there’s me judgemental Johnny behind sunglasses

mentally marking all human beings out of ten for kindness and empathy.

Lot of zeros this morning but then again it’s early

They haven’t had their coffee and croissant.

A car’s exhaust bursts the ear drums as you run out of road.

Turn back, go the other way, whistle down the wind.

The young hate the old and the lonely.

I don’t feel horny any more.


Monday 16 May 2022

Booing Anthems

 


Next Sunday Wrexham AFC will take on Bromley at Wembley in the FA Trophy Final. It's a final, it's at Wembley so you presume that National Anthems will be played. The English to represent Bromley and the Welsh to represent Wrexham. Unfortunately, the English National anthem is considered the British National Anthem. On Wrexham's badge, on its coat of arms is the Prince of Wales feathers with 'Ich Dien':I serve on it. Most or a sizeable number of Wrexham's players are English. The Manager and his coaching staff are English so how will they feel when 'God Save the Queen' is booed next Sunday and booed it will be.

I doubt that it will be booed in such numbers and such volume as at the FA Cup Final last Saturday between Liverpool and Chelsea. 

Needless to say I am with the booers! I am writing this blog post to debate in my own mind the rights and wrongs of booing anthems.

If you boo your own 'attributed' anthem then it's fair game. It is a reflection of your disgust at oppressive royalty, an unaccountable royalty as representatives of a class system that has kept your city down. The managed decline of the City of Liverpool by Margaret Thatcher. The Establishment stitch up of the Hillsborough enquiry. The sleights and gibes by Conservatives outside the City who have no representation within the City. 

Monarchy decides in the Queen Victoria era that the poor cities of the North of England must sing her praises. It is not a National Anthem. It is a tuneless dirge encouraging you to exhort a 'Supreme being to protect a Monarch' that has a lot more money than you and seems to do less than the 'official' benefit scroungers at the bottom of your street.

The further South you go, the more comfortable your circumstances, perhaps. We know that in London the levels of poverty and social inequality are extremely high  existing alongside Kensington High Street and Hampstead.

Yer Working Class poor in the Sarff might have a more patriotic take on Elizabeth Windsor. "Her father got our mothers and fathers through the war and she has been with us since we can remember. Have a bit of respect! Ain't you English or sumffink?"

No we're not English, we are Welsh and our first allegiance is to the language in which our National Anthem is sung "Mae Hen Wlad fy Nhadau". The old land of the patriarchy is dear to me. The land of bards and singers and Hollywood owners, the enwogion o fri.

Now if Welsh citizens and football supporters consider themselves to be Welsh and not British then they may remain silent, look at their feet, maybe mumble rhubarb when God Save the Queen is played but if they start booing another nation's anthem are you showing disrespect to the Bromley supporter for example who believes in God and the Queen and all things English? It is tantamount to a declaration of war. Not a class war as in Liverpool's case but an ethnic national one. 

What if, after booing God Save the Queen, the Bromley Massif decide to boo 'Hen Wlad fy Nhadau out of Wembley Stadium and down Wembley way? What then?  

If you are from Liverpool then you have every right, if not a duty to boo 'God Save the Queen' considering what the British Establishment has done to your city but if you are a Wrexham supporter and consider yourself Welsh, then when God Save the Queen is on you should 'Cau dy Geg'. (If you are a Wrexham supporter and consider yourself English or British, then sing or boo away as you see fit.)

If the citizens and supporters of the Disunited Kingdom start booing eachother's anthems then we could get into a Russia/Ukraine situation right here on 'British soil'.

Spare a thought for Parky and his coaching staff and for most of the Wrexham players next Sunday. You don't know what their feelings are about the 'attributed' National Anthem. They might be Monarchists or Republicans or they might not care.     

Feel free to leave a comment. Let's have a debate about this topic.      

Wednesday 4 May 2022

Militant, Socialist, Republican Welsh Nationalism

 

After ten years of existence, this blog and its editorial staff and all guest blog posters who have been on zero hours contracts for too long have decided to state publicly that the politics of sharkfishinginwales is unashamedly Militant, Socialist, Republican Welsh Nationalism.

The Militancy, the Socialism and the Republicanism come before the Welsh Nationalism. An Independent Wales will occur as a by-product of the struggle by our brothers and sisters in the English Republican Movement who with our support will depose the Monarch and appoint a President of an Independent British Republic. 

No longer faux 'United' no longer a 'Kingdom', the Independent citizens of English, Scottish and Welsh Republics will go forward together in a spirit of co-operation and solidarity.

The Queen of England and her descendents will be offered safe passage to a dominion (of their ancient and crumbling empire) of their choosing. Gibraltar, The Falkland Islands and the British Virgin Islands have all been suggested as final resting places for this archaic and costly tradition.

While One Nation Tories, Monarchists and Establishment Labour will be scoffing the Jelly and Ice Cream in four weeks time, those of us with our eyes on the Republican prize will be cogitating and analysing the best way forward.

There will be no leaders, no egos, no members, no leaflets through doors and certainly no rallies YET. We have to be ghosts in their machine.

This so called British Democracy expects us to exercise the right they have given us to vote today. That vote is always for the status quo. There are too many vested interests in this particular Capitalist State as we have seen very recently with the demonisation of a man of integrity.

Why would anybody put their heads above the parapet after the absolute trashing of a person who knew that for any change to occur for the better for ordinary citizens then the whole set up had to be challenged and changed.

If enough people feel that Westminster, the Monarchy, the Upper Class Tory Toff mafioso need to be removed then their roots and branches need to be cut off at source. 

Are we addicted to this sado-masochism? Do we subconsciously want to be punished?

Is it about self hate?

Do we hate ourselves so much for the lowly position that we have inhabited for the last two hundred years?

It's time for somebody to wave goodbye and time for somebody else to start sweating.






  

Monday 2 May 2022

In praise of Pontypridd

 


I had not been to Pontypridd more than a handful of times in thirty years after studying for three years at the old University of Glamorgan in Treforest from 1991-1994. The University of South Wales can now be seen gleaming white from the A470. Prior to Glam it was the Polytechnic of Wales and previous to that the old School of Mines. I used to travel up to Treforest either by train or car from Grangetown in Cardiff as a mature student. I was twenty five years of age when I got in on an access course which allowed me, a school failure with 3 O levels to my name, the privilege of studying a Degree in Humanities specialising in Theatre & Media Drama daahling on the back of a C grade in English attained at Night School.    

Even then I did not venture much into Pontypridd because we'd heard that the locals did not like the students much which was actually a load of tosh because you could not meet a warmer, kinder bunch of people walking down Taff Street which I have done for the last couple of Saturdays. I had felt for a while that I had not done the town justice and even now I'm not sure that I have but in my pretentious flaneurial way I have taken a few photographs and will add a few words of psychogeography to go with them.     


Back in 1991 I was into Rugby and I remember purchasing a Pontypridd R.F.C shirt and a Cardiff R.F.C shirt. There's nothing like hedging your bets is there?! I worked as an early morning cleaner at the BBC offices in Llandaff to support my studies and on one morning I was wearing the Pontypridd shirt to do the daily rounds of emptying bins and hoovering the studios and who should come through the double doors but the late great Ray Gravell, a Scarlet through and through who pointed at the Bridge on the black and white striped shirt smiled and then growled jokingly.  


I was cleaning at the BBC when news of the death of Freddie Mercury came over the little televisions they had dotted about the place. I had been a big Queen fan and that news floored me along with millions of others. The mighty song bird was no more. 


There's a song to be sung about Pontypridd and a duet between Ray Gravell & Freddie Mercury would be the ideal combination to sing it. In fact I'd love to hear them both singing 'Hen Wlad fy Nhadau' penned in the town by Evan James with music by his son James. There is a magnificent statue to them both in the splendid Ynysangharad Park. 





Perhaps Ray and Freddie could be accompanied by a local male voice choir. There's plenty of them.


Could Pontypridd start competing with Hay on Wye as a 'Book Town'? Look at this space age Library in the foreground and have you visited the new Storyville Bookshop on Market Street?


A shocking admission but I don't think I went into the iconic Ponty Market when I was a student at Treforest but I made amends for it on this particular visit.
 

The late Patrick Hannan, political journalist and radio presenter once said that he overheard a lady in Pontypridd Market looking at garments, possibly these pinafores below, and saying to her friend 
"Blue I do like, pink I do rather but piws/puce (purple) I go scatty over piws"


I have mentioned dead people a lot in this blog post but the beauty of the deceased is that they were once very much alive.

A Ghost Sign: Every Psychogeographer's Dream



Diolch am Ddarllen

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