wwiThe Awkward Squad ww wwwwPoetry by Eddie Castellan
I was going home through the Pyrenees in a wild rainstorm. It struck me how much I felt at home, as I would in the savage wastes of Snowdonia, that I have known all my life. I couldn't help dragging RS Thomas, my greatest poetic hero, and his peasant hero/monster Iago Prytherch into this poem, even if by the childishly simple device that Iago happens to mean James in both Spanish and Welsh.
RS had a fearsome reputation as a cantankerous old git but his words to aspiring writers: "As a poet, of course, you have not yet been born" seem to me to be a very gentle way of saying: "It's crap but keep trying (or don't).
with RS ww15
I know root thoughts in the mountain rain
disappointing for the tourists in shiny glass
of mountains that fight under cryptic colours
head-dressed and proud with the lost birds
under the shouting attic of primeval nearly Spain,
sinewy hills of Wales, whose spiky and desert
suddenly the distance threatens a hole with
All poems and other texts on this site are the copyright of Richard Edward Hugh Castellan 2009