It's a Spring Thing!

Here's a little interview that's in the Western Mail today, talking about spring and what it means to me, as well as a poem written for the piece. It's about daffodils - a supremely spring-like, and prominent poetic topic! - and is also kind of inspired by the fact that the National Botanic Garden of Wales (where I'm Resident Poet) has 30,000 of the things, 50 species in all. That's amazing! And well worth a visit to see. More on the Garden's daffodil trail HERE, while HERE is the link the the article in the Western Mail.

Plus, here is my poem, which is actually (really) about not just about daffs but about the human spirit and how it overcomes obstacles in order to, quite literally, wake up, rise, and shine! It's the first time the three, very different types of poem that I write - funny ones, nature poems, and more mystically-inclined things - have all come together in a single piece. This pleases me! There is only a little touch of humour in this, but, for me, it feels like the beginning of a new way of writing, too. All three of my poet-y selves together for the first time... I'm pretty happy with it. Do let me know what you think, though, and happy reading/joyous spring to you all! x

Ascension

From inside unlit bulbs they climb,
Feeling through the crumbling dark;
Fearless spears, insistent shoots,
Certain even in the dirt that there's
Another world, up there.

Eating earth with hungry roots,
Finding paths through stone and rock,
Endlessly rising, eventually emerging,
Green tongues poking from the ground
As if to say I told you so.

Advancing upwards, ever further,
Reaching for their unknown goal;
Finally unfurling, bursting into flower.
Star-like, sun-cast, their golden glory
Sings out: even in the dark, we knew,

That this is what we were.

Imperial

This is a new poem, a draft, not a funny one, inspired a little by thinking about the royals, because of the recent birth, and also by Wales Wildflower Day, which happened recently at the National Botanic Garden of Wales, and which I was lucky enough to attend. Who ever thought the buttercup was such a blighter? Well, it is, so here you go:

I am trying to find the beauty in you, buttercup.
I am looking only at your golden heads.
I am attempting to forget what the expert said:
That your species is invasive.
That your style is ‘creeping’.
That your taste is acrid.
That your sap can cause blistering.
You carry your poison so prettily,
You are lovely to behold, intermingled
With the daisies, as if you were one of them.
As if you could ever be ‘common’.
You will live for a thousand years
And gradually those daisies will be crowded out.
You will block the light from them, put them in the shade,
Steal the soil’s potassium from beneath their roots,
Secrete toxic chemicals from your own that
They will drink, unknowingly.
Thinking that you are a friend.
They will feed it to their children and their children
Will become weak. You will smile as their heads grow limp,
As each generation is born smaller, feebler.
One day, there won’t be any births at all.
And still the passersby will look at you,
And marvel at your pretty golden heads,
So many of them, like cups, reflecting the sunlight
From above, so beautiful, full only of themselves.
The soil beneath now richer than it ever was.

NaPoWriMo - Poem 8 - Llantwit

Llantwit Major is one village down from St Athan, where my mum lives. While I realise people from Llantwit are known as 'Llantonians', this is just a bit of fun, okay...??

Llantwit

If Cardiff’s the Diff,
and Newport’s the Port,
then what

is this?

NaPoWriMo - Poem 7 - Hey bud

This is my 2nd poem inspired by the Puya bud that is blossoming for the first time in 10 years at the Botanic Garden of Wales. It's a shorter n funnier one, and is meant to be read in a Cardiff accent. My longer (n better!) poem is below. Forgive me - this is written as part of the NaNoWriMo poem-a-day challenge. I'm - getting t i r e d . . . !

Hey bud

Hey bud. Stickin out the mud
Like tha - like summin rude.
I yurd you wuz the biggest in
The wurld. Well -
Yuh no’ so big tuh me.
I’ve seen biggerer, an berruh-
Ruh... I’ll gerruh measurin tape
An chuck ir at yuh, in a min.
Fatso. Freak. Yuh nor as brillyunt
As wha they says. Yoo-neek?
Nah. Bud? Hey bud??
Uh you listenin
Tuh me....???

NaPoWriMo - Poem 6 - Poem for the Puya

This is a poem inspired by the fact the biggest bud in Wales is now beginning to bloom! A marvellous sight I am hoping to see within the next week... The Puya, as it's called, is on view at the National Botanic Garden of Wales, and this is the first time it's blossomed for a whole decade! Quite thrilling news... and the first of a few poems I feel inspired to write about the thing.
Find out more here: http://www.gardenofwales.org.uk/news/biggest-bud-in-wales/

Poem for the Puya

Puya, they call you. The word sticky
In their mouths. You prickle the roof
Of the glass house, unsettle the groups
Of visiting classes. Like a nettle, your
Leaves are stingsharp, laced with thorns.
“Cruel”, they remark. Your taste is for
Animal flesh, which they hook, pull in, and
Starve to death. Their blood is your food.
Your bed more wet with this than dew.

From the Andes to Llanarthney you
Came. A monster baby in a way: eight
Feet tall and closer to a mutant than
A flower. Towering above the others,
A giant in the nursery. Cursed to slowness,
Reliant on your new owners, still you
Grew, your brontosaurus neck too thick
For them to prune; a Chilean imposter
That loomed above its human masters.

But now, a decade later, you’re in bud,
About to blossom. Your body as round
And fulsome as a woman’s. Crowds
Come to marvel, wondering at your
Beauty. Eyes hunger for your form.
Cameras snap and looks are thrown,
But sweeter than before. You ignore
Them; take no note. Your name now
Sweet as nectar in every thirsting throat.