Mike Jenkins - Welsh Poet & Author
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MOOR-GARDEN  HAIKU

1/29/2015

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The oak is wearing
its soft winter coat of moss
and scarf of lichen.

*****

Willow, word that weeps,
but here lithe and eager reach :
pupil of the oak.

*****

The fence taken down,
so the Waun invites us on,
past open-mouthed stream.

*****

Stray jay in winter
searching for buried acorns :
feathers bloom, bird-flower.

*****

Willow colour-change :
the weather and light mingle
like moor and water.

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EDUCATE FOR HEALTHY EATING

1/22/2015

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   Recently announced Labour Party proposals on healthy eating had spokespeople readily using the word 'empowerment'.
   Basically, they want to see much clearer indications on packaging of how much sugar and salt foodstuffs contain and a restriction on products with high sugar content.
   Whilst all this is laudable, it is typically about top-down policies rather than the radical change from below desperately needed.
  For all the many cookery programmes on tv ( they tend to dominate Saturday and Sunday morning schedules) obesity still reigns supreme, especially among the poorer sections of society.
   There's no doubt that food culture has advanced considerably in this country over the years, yet many rely on ready and frozen meals as a staple diet, even when they have the time to cook alternatives with fresh produce.
   The connection between programmes where chefs create the fanciest of fare and the reality of many people's lives hasn't been made.
  It's as if these celeb chefs are superstars existing beyond the reach of the majority, whose sense of powerlessness in the kitchen is merely heightened.
   Jamie Oliver's crusade on school meals has also done little to alter the actual content and, having visited his restaurant on a couple of occasions, I'm suspicious of any of his claims ( the food was notably bland!).
  In places where work's plentiful I accept that time is a factor. However, in poorer areas like Merthyr there is a real opportunity for people to create their own tasty, healthy dishes.
   Unlike Labour, I believe the solutions must come from below and be sustainable.
  As ever, education is the key and the curriculum and ethos of schools must be revolutionised.
  The first step has to be that catering services are no longer private enterprises : bring them back into the State sector immediately.
   While they continue to offer the lowest common denominator and exist for profit, pupils cannot be included and taste and health are ignored.
   Councils alone shouldn't have responsibility, as schools must be able to have their individual input. There must be flexibility.
   Every school should have access to an allotment, where as many pupils as possible are given the opportunity of helping out.
   Children need to decide what's best to grow and take part in all the necessary processes.
   Such allotments would then provide food for school meals and pupils could prepare it for fellow pupils to eat on a daily basis.
   ( Of course, they'd only be a part of what's on offer.....but a vital one, as pupils will feel genuine empowerment).
  To do this, Cookery - as opposed to Domestic Science - needs to be a fundamental  part of the curriculum, from early years till sixth form.
   It could even play a role in PSE (Personal and Social Education) and the new Welsh Baccalaureate, teaching diet and health in the former and emphasising the skills and responsibility involved in the latter.
   In terms of cooking and serving meals, this has been done before in colleges and I know that Merthyr College once ran their own restaurant, open to the public.
   Individual schools would have the power to adapt and vary these guidelines, depending on locations. They may want to open their dining halls to the needy in their communities, for instance.
   Other schools might want to focus more on local products, or the importance of foraging ( and I don't mean for the magic fungi!).
   Thinking of the Primary School near where I live, I can imagine them finding an abundance of wild food locally, including mint, cress and, in season, blackberries and wimberries.
  We involve young people in creating murals on estates, yet we hand them food and say - 'This is what's best for you!'
   Our present education system is making no impact on the cycle of poor diet and obesity.
   Of course, this has to be accompanied by a movement towards proper democracy in our schools, whereby teachers and pupils run them not dictatorial Heads.
   Food culture, like politics, must come from the involvement of the majority, not the hierarchical tendencies of the few.


                                   FOODO  RELIGION

'Food is the new pseudo-religion!' he argued,
' Ramsey, Oliver, Slater and Stein
all fake priests of the kitchen
anointing heads with their chilli oil
and serving up scallops for communion.

One thing's for certain
you won't get reincarnated as an aubergine
or taste a thing when you're gone,
there is no foodie hell
full of pilchards and pink blancmange,
or heaven of pizza and pasta.

These spiritual chefs are full of sauce,
they like to claim their dishes
offer epiphanies to change our lives,
while most people simply give up
and buy their ready meals.

We drool at the shrine of Nigella
lapping up her cream and foam,
or follow evangelists like the Hairy Bikers
as they take their gospel recipes on the road.'

He pointed his spatula at me,
flipping a pancake onto his head,
broke out into I Am The Eggman :
'If you've got to have a pseudo-religion
then let it be song,' he said.
  
        
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'CANDIDATE ASSAULTS DONKEY!'

1/19/2015

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The UKIP candidate had been traumatised as a child
when he witnessed his horse being raped
by a gay donkey on heat.




He'd wanted to take the whip to it,
but all he could do was cry ;
Enoch, his horse, was never the same after that.




He would rear and bolt at the sight
of anything strange or different :
a gypsy pony or a Siamese cat.




The candidate Piers followed suit;
he argued that gays brought revenge from God
and the weather would be awful if they came out.




He questioned his mother's friends
to check if they cleaned behind the fridge;
peered suspiciously at foreign-speaking folk on trains.




Even do-gooders raising money down town
he dismissed as mere ambassadors
for Bongo-bongo Land.




Watching Lenny Henry on tv
he couldn't help thinking he'd be better off
and more content in a 'black country'.




So he took up smoking, drank beer at the local,
changed his name to Peter
and stood for a seaside constituency.




With his grin and charm he was convincing,
till it came to the walkabout on the beach
and he avenged his horse with a megaphone!




'CANDIDATE ASSAULTS  DONKEY!'
read the Seaport Times and nobody believed
his tragically true story.



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The Boyz Are Back In Blue!

1/12/2015

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   In June 2012 the owner of Cardiff City FC Vincent Tan made the decision to rebrand the club.
   Last Friday he made the momentous decision to return our team to blue and next season, to restore the bluebird on our badge.
   I honestly thought this would never happen under his regime.
   What were the factors which lead to this ?
   Tan has claimed his mother, a devout Buddhist, told him to bring unity and togetherness back to the club.
   He has dismissed totally the influence of a long and hard-fought struggle on the part of the fans, which was going to be intensified over the coming months.
   Tan's rebrand was opposed from the beginning and , initially, he did state it wouldn't happen, only to go back on his word. He openly lied to the supporters.
   When it was instigated he actually said that red was his lucky colour, though it was widely reported that he had chosen red because it was lucky in the Far East.
   Many pointed out that Malaysia played in blue and that there was, in fact, a Malay bird called a bluebird!
   He also claimed that there would be a large demand for red shirts in the Far East, though this was illogical given the massive competition from Man. U, Arsenal and Liverpool.
   In other words, the rebrand made no sense from the start, especially as Tan claimed to lift the dragon emblem from the Welsh flag, thus creating more confusion.
   However, many fans accepted it as a condition for further investment in the club and, as long as we were successful, were prepared to go along with it.
   Others boycotted the club instantly, believing it had become the plaything of a billionaire and ceased to belong to them in any way.
   I chose to stay on but join in every protest to return to blue and also the badge.
   I believed - ' Without our history we are nothing....we might as well be machines!'
   Free red scarves were handed out at our home game v. Brighton on Feb. 2013 and a number took them only to fling them onto the field.
   We were divided almost 50/50 and even friends were in opposition over the rebrand.
   One friend believed that Tan's threats to pull out were genuine and never acknowledged that all his investments were loans which the club would one day have to pay back with interest. 
  Tan promised to convert the debt to equity and he has never done so, thus ensuring that we are in the same precarious situation which existed under Sam Hammam.
   That same friend eventually came round to joining the 'back to blue' cause.
   The sacking of manager Malky Mackay (which, in retrospect, was perfectly understandable) seemed at the time all part of Tan's megalomania and the appointment of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer - who never stood up to the owner - proved a disaster.
   This season, the attitude amongst the vast majority of fans has changed radically.
   Being cynical, our lack of success certainly gave those who'd embraced the rebrand an excuse to change.
   From being divided, we became united behind the call for blue to be restored and the loudest chant during the games was on 19 minutes 27 seconds with - 'We're Cardiff City / We'll always be blue!'
   Brentford fans made themselves very popular by joining in.
   All the fans' organisations played their part, from the Supporters' Club to the Trust; but it was the group called Bluebirds Unite , led by Sian Branson, who were the most driven and passionate.
   They were all present at the meeting last Thursday night and articulated their views with such fervour and emotion that chairman Dalman and chief exec. Choo couldn't help but be impressed.
   Fan power was the most important factor in this.
   The cumulative effect of protests, boycotts and a campaign not to renew season tickets was destroying any credibility in the club.
   Manager Russell Slade (who'd replace Solskjaer) began to argue two weeks ago that the atmosphere at our stadium was seriously  affecting  the players and Slade's own influence on Tan's decision cannot be underestimated.
   The commercial side of the club was being hit really hard.
   Red shirts sales were minimal and, in recent months, even the most ardent season ticket holders stopped going, which affected match-day revenue. 
  After last Thursday's very positive meeting - which avoided direct criticism of Tan, but unanimously urged a return to blue and our traditional crest - the owner had no choice.
   If he  had continued with red he would've been completely isolated, without even the support of chairman and chief executive, let alone manager and team.
   There is a strong argument mooted that Tan is preparing to sell up. Certainly, he hasn't attended one game all season ( after professing to have fallen in love with the sport).
   The appointment of a manager with no Championship experience on a lower salary, the sale of assets like young Norwegian international Mats Daehli  and the signing of players out of contract this year for small fees, hardly suggests that Tan sees the Premiership as a goal.
  He has collected football clubs like Solskjaer did players and it may be that the return the blue is a plan to make us more commercially viable before he gets out. 
   There have been many rumours of consortia , but nothing absolute.
   Ultimately, the club was on a rapid downhill descent adorned in red and, as  a businessman Tan must've listened to Dalman and Choo and looked at the figures.
  The idea of his mam saying - 'Little Vinnie, the bird builds nests and the dragon burns them down!'......makes as much sense as his early question  about why David Marshall (our keeper) didn't score more goals! 
  The real respect and thanks should be given to all those fans who campaigned, protested, wrote to the Malaysian press and even got banned for raising banners of dissent.
   The story of our return to blue is all about the remarkable power of supporters to make a difference to the club they love and to win back an identity which should never have been taken away.


       I wrote this poem just after the Board meeting last Friday and the announcement of our return to blue.


                             BLUEDAY


For this Saturday, just for once
I'll be celebrating even if we lose.


For me, y diwrnod glas,
the happiest of bluedays.


Cynicism will be left behind
in the fog of the dank hills;


because we are one again
team and fans reunited


in sound and motion, a place
reclaimed but also grown.


Once again WE without wariness ;
smiles returning, birds from another clime.






       
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YOU AREN'T WHAT YOU WEAR

1/5/2015

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   As a poet you have an image to live up to.
   In terms of excess the stereotype is Dylan Thomas, so if you aren't an inebriated womaniser you're lacking what it takes to be a real artist.
   In terms of dress I don't think Dylan set the standards (or lack of them).
   I tend to blame Ian MacMillan and his effervescent shirts.
   With Zephaniah, he's the most conspicuous poet on telly after all.
   I once read with him at Blackwood 'Stute and was completely dazzled by his shirt....not to mention his superior performing style.
   All this was brought home to me once when I agreed to do a Plaid Cymru benefit in Bedlinog.
   The other guest poet was from Newport - their official laureate , he claimed -  who someone commented 'really looked like a poet!'
   This person eyed my Michael Foot-style duffle with great suspicion.
   Casnewydd's finest was all swirls of colour and flowery patterns : he could've stepped straight from one of Michael Horowitz's 1960s happenings.
   Unassociated with my dowdy dress sense, I caused a bit of a stir by reading a dialect poem about a Labour Councillor whose political progress was down to her ability at blow-jobs!
   (It was meant to be a local take on the then current Clinton-Lewinski scandal and was totally fictional).
  However, one Plaid member was very offended and accosted me on the bus home to Merthyr for my 'filth'.
  I've never been one for trends and only ever wore platform shoes as protection against a snappy Jack Russell who always attacked me in Barry.
  I admired music by The Who, Small Faces and later The Jam without wanting to dress like a mod.
   I was into punk, yet the nearest I came to wearing a black bin bag was getting tangled in one while putting the rubbish out.
  I did like many bands who weren't part of any movement and created music nobody could readily pigeon-hole, least of all themselves.
  This was embodied by Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band, Soft Machine and solo artists like Tom Waits and Robert Wyatt ( the man in the cartoon).
   It was only at Uni that I tried to express who I thought I was through the way I dressed and I must've looked a right sight!
  I think I wanted to stand out in khaki hat sporting a half-moon motif, worker's blue jacket randomly splattered with white paint and anti-badge ( i.e. badge with only a reflective surface).
  One English lecturer was perplexed enough by the bucket hat to ask if the moon was symbolic.
   In retrospect, it might well have been a small tribute to the great Rob Wyatt, whose 20 minute song 'Moon in June' was one of my favourites.
  It often caused consternation for my grandparents who thought I couldn't afford a proper jacket and also fellow train-travellers convinced I was going on a painting job.
   My mirror badge was always just a brief talking-point.
   While I may have wanted to mirror a Zen master, I might've been better off wielding the inevitable staff they used on the path to enlightenment.
  It is possible that understated or mundane dressing can cause equal confusion.
   My wife blames the fact I was mistaken for a UKIP supporter on my rather dowdy but nondescript hat.
   Not a deer-stalker or trilby mind, but a nothing hat worn for warmth and comfort.
   I'm not convinced by this theory. I just think she doesn't like the hat!
   Sometimes sheer practicality can dictate fashion.
   I'm currently reading Marcus O'Dair's excellent biography of Wyatt 'Different Every Time' and he explains that Rob's penchant for drumming either naked or in his undies came from his early days in Majorca, when it was simply too hot to wear clothes and play the drums.
   For a lot of people it's what you can afford, though Prismark have opened up a lot of opportunities, albeit using sweat-shop labour in some cases.
   I really do believe you aren't what you wear.
   The chicest most glamorous people can also be the most shallow and those who choose practicality have other priorities in their lives than mere outward attraction.
  I saw in schools the constant clash between uniformity and individual expression and all it did was elevate the importance of clothing, when it should've been put in perspective.
  In the end what matters is that Wyatt was an amazing drummer and if it helped to play in his underpants then so be it.



             FLIP FLOPS IN WINTER




'Is ee orright or wha?'
the ol lady pointed with er metal stick.


Shorts, t-shirt, flip flops,
tattoos on both arms.


An there's me on a frosty mornin
with a north wind blowin icy,


in my bobble an woolly scarf,
my four layers o thermals ;


I'd-a worn a balaclava
on'y I didn wanna be arrested!


'Der, summin wrong with im!'
I agreed, all-a time thinkin:


'Good f'r im....wish I could shed more
an jest like me, ee've got  no air.'   


Seen im in-a Mountain Shop later
searchin f'r a bargen in-a ski wear! 
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