Thursday 22 October 2015

Child of the refuge


( after sadly catching the news the other night, so an amalgamation of reportage.)

                                  Aya is 8 years old,
                                  her home is in  detention,
                                  behind barbed wire and fences,
                                  in a no- man's land,  
                                  a landscape mired in abandonment.
     
                                  Aya is shivering with cold,
                                  her jacket was once white,
                                  now it is drenched with rain,    
                                  and covered in mud,
                                  her brother cries, he  wants the touch of his mother,
                                  her father is desperate as well,
                                  wants them both delivered to safety,
                                  this is not a place where dreams will flourish,
                                  there are no tents for shelter, just seas of misery,
                                  disturbed intersections, between what passes as 
                                                                              a frontier of freedom.     

                                  Aya exists  in this world of chaos,
                                  with her companions, the walking wounded,
                                  crumbling  through the night and day,
                                  as a news cameraman pans in and out,
                                  relays images back to safe European homes,
                                  to be easily digested,  in the comfort of sanctuary.

                                 Aya one fragment of many shattered journeys,
                                 the nagging pain of humanity's pulse,
                                 the drifting sadness  of frightened children, 
                                                                               terrified people,
                                 with broken hearts and broken homes,
                                 four thousand refugees stranded and abandoned,
                                 within yards of the European Union.
                                   
                                 Aya I am truly ashamed, 
                                 of the despair that follows your journey,
                                 wish I could point you in the direction of paradise,
                                 support your tiny soul, strengthen your arms,
                                 stop the  nagging persecution, detention, trauma,
                                 release  you from the tears of seperation, anxiety and grief,
                                 clasp your wishes,  send you protection, 
                                 allow you to  continue your journey,
                                 to a land of security and hope,
                                 anywhere from this grim wasteland,
                                 no place for an innocent child.  

https://iamnotasilentpoet.wordpress.com/2015/10/29/cild-of-the-refuge-by-dave-rendle/
                                   
                             
                                     



Wednesday 21 October 2015

Aberfan - Lest we forget, this gross injustice



49 years ago a on Friday October 21, 1966 , approx 9.16 a.m shortly after school assembly many tons of collier rubbish (slag heaps) swept down the sides of a  Merthyr Mountain  above the town of Aberfan after several days of heavy rain, Liquified and pouring down  this black tidal wave would engulf everything in its path in this catastrophic tragedy.
Following  Monday's post about Tryweryn, another tragic memory from Wales's turbulent living history.
Aberfan was to many a result of a conflict of financial interests, which would see the death of 144 people, including a 116 innocent  children, many of whom were between the age of seven and ten along with, five of their teachers, in what is now known  today as one  of one of Wales worst mining disasters in it's history, not forgetting Senghennydd which I've written about previously when in 1913 over 400 were killed.
By the time the landslide stopped, it had demolished Pantglaas Junior School and 20 houses, severely damaging the Secondary School.




The sores and wounds of this disaster are now forever  stored in the memories  and feelings of the people of Wales because of the whole collective loss of a generation that was wiped out. So today again we  try not to forget  the children and adults who died, this human tragedy, that  many say could easily have been  prevented. The National Coal Board  (NCB) were repeatedly warned to move the slag heaps to a safer location, because they were also  close to natural underwater springs. Did the NCB have the decency to acknowledge their blame, to bow their head in shame, like hell no, but we were to  learn sadly far too late that the NCB was ostensibly a capitalist organisation more concerned with profit than lives.  A report by the government at the time said " Blame  for the disaster rests upon  the National Coal Board. The legal liabilities of the National Coal Board to pay compensation for the  personal injury ( fatal or otherwise) and  damage to property is incontestable and uncontested." The Government of the day was also extremely insensitive to the victims families, and people whould have to wait for years, for compensation.
So today we remember  the people of Aberfan, a community  that still profoundly affected by this disaster, one in three survivors still  suffering  from Post traumatic stress,  nearly 50 years after this tragic event took place.  People felt guilty that they were  left alive, they did not feel like survivors, cases of children not being allowed to play in the street, in case it upset other parents.
Let us  hope that lessons learnt from this incident can be learnt for tomorrow, and  remember that this bitter legacy still continues, what with continuing social and economic problems in the South Wales valleys still  being wrought  because of successive governments who have made lives a  continuing source of discomfort.  Combined with the failure of responsibility by the relevant authorities and the appalling behaviour of  some parties in the aftermath of the disaster.
Today, however there is very  little to remind visitors of  this tragic path, just an abstract memorial garden in the village and the childrens section in the graveyard.


Lest we forget, people before profit.

R.I.P the little angels that were lost forever.



shaker aamer - pj harvey



Repost of this song

PJ Harvey released this powerful song in 2013, to highlight the ongoing detention of last British resident held inside the US prison at Guantanamo Bay. Harvey recorded the track to help  maintain  pressure to help Shaker, whose family live in South London, to be released back to to Britain.
Saturday 24 October will be Shakers 5,000th day in Guantanamo.
First sent to the notorious camp in 2002, but subsequently cleared for release in 2007,  proving that the US authorities had no intention of bringing him  to trial for the last  7 years or so. This  Friday will  mark the end of the 30 day notice period to the US Congress that he is to be released and returned to his home , here in the UK.
On the following day Sunday 25th October, Shaker should be free and on his way home.
The US must keep their promise to Shaker and the world, a man who has endured all these years with much dignity and fortitude, 13 years imprisoned without any charge or trial, 13 years without ever getting to see his son. At present he is on hunger strike in protest at his  continual  detention and the appalling conditions in which he and his fellow detainees are held. In retaliation, he has been beaten, confined to a tiny cell and forced to spend long periods in solitary confinement. Many of his supporters are now also fasting for 24 hours in solidarity with him.
 Shaker must be freed and get the justice he deserves and the much needed treatment for his failing health,riddled with arthritis, combined with other medical problems, that no man should ever have to put up with.
There should  be no further delay to this injustice, time to bring Shaker home  immediately.
His eventual release will be a source of comfort and  joy to the many people  who have campaigned so hard for this moment to take place.

There will be a protest   outside Downing Street this coming Saturday  2-4 to highlight Shaker's case one more time.

Shaker Aamer

No water for three days
I cannot sleep, or stay awake.

Four months hunger strike.
Am I dead, or am I alive?

With metal tubes we are force fed.
I honestly wish I was dead.

Strapped  in the  restraining chair.
Shaker Aamer, your friend.

                                             In Camp 5, eleven years
                                             Never charged. Six years cleared.

They took away my one note pad,
and then refused to give it back.


I can't think straight, I write, then stop.
Your friend Shaker Aamer. Lost.

The guards just do what they're told,
the doctors just do what they're told.

Like an old car I'm rusting away.
Your friend, Shaker. Guantanamo Bay

                                    Don't forget -

                                                            
                                                             PJ Harvey 2013

Tuesday 20 October 2015

Michael McClure (b.20/10/30) - ACTION PHILOSOPHY


Michael McClure, the fantastic poet playwright turns 83 today, so hats of. Best known for his participation in San Francisco famous Six Gallery Poetry reading where Allen Ginsberg first publicly read Howl and his friendship with the band  The Doors, he was to become a prominent figure in the Beat movement, writing poetry and plays. His 1965 production The Beard faced obscenity charges, but were subsequently dismissed.
His writing reflect his Bhuddist practice and his appreciation of the natural world using elements of typographical expression, with an exquisite sensibility. I like his work a lot, so thanks Michael, and happy birthday.

                                                             ACTION PHILOSOPHY

                               THAT GOVERNMENT IS BEST WHICH GOVERNS LEAST.
                                                 Let me be free of ligaments and tendencies
                                                             to change myself into a shape
                                                                 that's less than spirit.
                                                                LET ME BE A WOLF,
                                                                 a caterpillar, a salmon,
                                                                                 or
                                                                                an
                                                                          OTTER
                                                             sailing in the silver water
                                                                 beneath the rosy sky.
                                                               Were I a moth or condor
                                                                   you'd see me fly!
                                                    I love this meat of which I'm made!
                                                  I dive in it to find the simplest vital shape!

                                                           AH! HERE'S THE CHILD!!!
                                 
                                         WHAT'S LIBERTY WHEN ONE CLASS STARVES
                                                                       ANOTHER?

Monday 19 October 2015

Cofiwch Dryweryn / Remember Tryweryn


 21st October marks the anniversary of the opening of the controversial resevoir in the Tryweryn valley to supply drinking water to the residents of the city of Liverpool, it will be marking a day of grave injustice.
The battle began in 1955 when the City of Liverpool were seeking a new water supply. In the summer of that year Liverpool'sWater Committe announced its intention to drown the valley of Dolaneg, where the shrine of Ann Griffiths, the Welsh saint and hymn writer, stands. This of course, provoked uproar.
Magnaminously Liverpool bowed to Welsh demands and said they would flood the Tryweryn valley instead. This proved to be a carefully planned scheme to hoodwink the Welsh into thinking they were dictating where a resevoir could be built.
In 1956, a private members bill was put before parliament seeking to create this folly. The bill was bought forth by Liverpool City Council, which  allowed them to by-pass the usual criteria for planning permission to the relevant  landowners in the area. It would involve disrupting railway lines and road links, and at the heart of it, the flooding of the village of Capel Celyn. This one of the last bastions of Welsh speaking settlements, which had its own school, the site of Wales first Sunday school post office, a chapel, cemetery  and a number of farms and homesteads, it was  a community in every sense of the word.
Feelings were naturally instantly aroused to fever pitch as the notion of the English drowning out the Welsh, made the symbolism of the creation of the resevoir even more potent. But to members of Liverpool council, the farms that they were drowning were no more than convenient stretches of land along a remote valley floor that could be put to a more convenient and productive use to supply its own citizens with water, but to many was just an arrogant misuse of power, a flooding used primarily as a way of boosting profits.


                                
                                  Capel Celyn 

 It would be fiercely opposed, such was the passion aroused, on November 21, 1956, the people who had supposedly given Liverpool permission - in fact the entire community of Capel Celyn including their children, marched with banners  through the streets of Liverpool  protesting against the plan. It would  also see a number of individuals being compelled to take direct action against the plan, between 1962 and 1963 there were attempts to sabotage the building of the resevoir,  in acts of desperation, since previous passive demonstrations had failed. On Saturday September 22nd 1962, two men were arrested attempting to destroy the site, and then on February 10th 1963 an explosion took place at the site. It  remains to this day, the greatest symbol of the struggle of the Welsh language, a way of life destroyed on the whims of Conservative Government without consultation by Welsh authorities, its people, or  the support from Welsh M.Ps, who were to wage an 8 year battle against it. Opposition to the scheme received the backing of the vast majority of the Welsh people, with the backing of trade unionists, and cultural and religious groups.
Control over its own water became and has remained an inflammatory issue here in Wales. The political parties were to be united in their opposition to the scheme because it was considered such an affront  to the people of Wales, because such valuable resources were being stolen away from the country. The agricultural value of the land  was rich compared to some land  that could have been considered. A feeling of great sadness because a community was being shattered and families who had lived in the area for generations were being forced to lose their homes.




Shortly after the flooding a piece of graffiti appeared on a piece of wall, just outside  the village of Llanrhysted, on the way to Aberystwyth. The graffiti read "Cofiwch Drwyweryn " "Remember Tryweryn" it is still to be seen, many years later.
When  on Thursday, October 21st, 1965, the Lord Mayor of Liverpool  came to open Tryweryn dam ( built at a cost of £20 million) where every house and tree had dissapeared,  he was to be met by a vast crowd of protesters,  in 19 October 2005 Liverpool City Council finally issued an apology, but many thought it was just a worthless political gesture that had arrived far too late.
I hope that we have by now learnt the tragic lessons of Tryweryn and the reverberations that are still felt to this day. The place names like bells still ring out- Hafod Fadog, Y Ganedd Lyd, Cae Fado, Y Gelli, Pen Y Bryn Mawr, Gwerndelw, Tyncerrig, Maesydail. These bells now ring underwater and are heard by no one. An evocative image, forever stitched in time, which remembers the bells of Cantre'r Gwaelod and the loss associated with inundation. It would also feed the flames of a resurgent nationalism, re-igniting the imagination, peoples identity and defence of the language? Y iath, and would pave the way for devolution, and the strengthening and protection of the Welsh Language alongside the growth of Cymdeithas Y Iaith /The Welsh Language Society. Some would argue though  that the Welsh nation is still being fobbed off, since the assembly that has been granted to them, has no  real political power.



There is now a memorial on the side  of the lake and a memorial garden and the grave stones  from Capel Cemetry have been moved here.
At the end of the day it was not just a stretch of land that was flooded against the people of Wales's will, but a whole community of people, a culture and a language because of colonial arrogance and misuse of power. Tryweryn remains as a byword for shame and a grave injustice. Years later it would inspire the Manic Street Preachers to ask " Where are we going"?" in their song " Ready for Drowning, " 


and the following much anthologised poem by R.S Thomas.
A tragic story that we must continue to share. Reminding us of our history and our land, and how it has been exploited to serve the interests of others.



R.S Thomas -  Resevoirs

There are places in Wales I don't go:
Resevoirs  that are the subconscious
Of a people, troubled far dwon
with gravestones, chapels, villages even:
The serenity of their expression
Revolts me,  it is a pose
for strangers, a watercolour's appeal
To the mass, instead  of the poem's
Harsher conditions. There are the hills
Too; gardens under the scum
Of the forests, and the smashed faces
Of the farms with the stone trickle
Of their tears down the hills' side.

Where can I go,  then, from  the smell
Of decay, from the putrefying of a dead
Nation? I have walked the shore
For an hour and seen the English
Scavenging among the remains
Of our culture, covering the sand
Like the tide and, with the roughness
Of the tide, elbowing our language
Into the grave that we have dug for it.




Huw Jones - Dwr ( inspired by Tryweryn)


Capel Celyn - The drowning of a village


Sunday 18 October 2015

Stung


( following poem in response to actual event yesterday)

Autumn morning, playing in garden
taking time out ,mooching about,
cutting down brambles, trimming the lawn.
In the undergrowth, resting in fallen fruit,
a lone wasp waited, in flight carried poison,
in pursuit, heading in my direction,
released a direct hit above my eye,
stuck its stinger beneath my skin.
Now I sit, swollen and throbbing,
mother nature, I've already thanked
for leaving me, with this nasty surprise,
at least I have a few remedies stored
some love and affection, some healing balms
the wasp simply flew off, somewhere else 
to face the  imminent threat of death.

Saturday 17 October 2015

Human Rights Explained



This incredible 2-minute animation by http://www.rightsinfo.org  will tell you everything you need to know about your human rights and why they matter.

I have the right

I have the right to my own opinions
to state what I believe to be the truth,
I believe in freedom of thought
I believe in freedom of speech,
I have the right to be free from bondage
to be free from chains and mental slavery,
to choose what I want to be, where I need to go
because this is my right to be free.
I have the right to speak out
this is my choice, this is my conscience,
this is my right to freedom of expression
this right allows me to speak out against oppression,
this right allows me to stand against trangression, 
                                           aggression, exploitation
this right acknowledges that all born equal and free,
everyone a unique individualistic form 
that all have a right to life and liberty,
with dignity and pride, with the security of protection
that allows us to cry, to love and laugh,
remember that when justice is forgotten 
alternative paths trample down opposition,  
decency and justice, respect, and all that has been given
so  keep on fighting for human rights with no inhibition
remember actions speak louder than words
and what unites us is greater than what seperates