Many thanks to David for reading his poem as part of the In Conversation With: Keith Bayliss and Roger Moss event. To see the recorded Livestream, click HERE
Venus of Blaengwynfi by David Thomas
as they always have
women and men
carry shopping
push prams
change channels
dig over
dig down
dig in
quarrel
eat
sleep
shit and dissipate
cwtch out
cwtch in
dissent
agree to disagree
find common ground
almost inevitably
about them
and within them
in such a place
deep below the bachgen carreg
the boy of stone
a mean old mist
uncoils about the cape
smoke rises
from the odd chimney still
memory persists
on the bwlch
muddied and befuddled
sodden hooves
mark off the fallow
all she ever really saw
was here
all of her
lies here
all
about her
here
or hereabouts
she knew little more
but she could
perhaps
be knowing
in some uncertain ways
the south wind
chasing up behind her
brought her promise
once upon a time
the north wind
with its deceits and lies
and coldness
left her barren
old superstitions lingered in the gut
unchecked
a gwyllgi
braced against a wild twilight
the ceffyl dwr at large
in a landscape that resonates
with whispered memories of men
long gone
one way or another
boys again to her
carrying
still
on the four lips of the wind
spiteful demons
spitting and cursing
swearing and frolicking
sparkling on the dark mantles
of the hills and houses
raining down their spears of ice
dancing fantastic in the sacked church
plundering the spoken word
screech and belch and gutter
no more
as they always did
for the want of succour
in the narrowest of streets
in the narrowest of nights
and days
and the ones she cherished
and the ones she loved
and the ones she longed for
and the one
she cherished and loved and longed for
and desired
before her
born
known
gone
remembered
and forgotten
never the pick of the bunch
when her heart
finally stiffened
beyond resolve
or resolution
all that remained
was
a sense of something
logos
pathos
a faint impression
and wonders
still
perpetually unfolding
for some reason
above