Mike Jenkins - Welsh Poet & Author
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MEMORY  HEDGEHOG

4/19/2017

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Picture
After all these years
one has returned,
snuffling for bugs at the end of our garden


my eldest joined the Hedgehog Society
because they came, sticker on her window-pane -
ate Hedgehog crisps in solidarity


yet he is different,
has a tag like a criminal -
try to take a selfie, he curls into a ball


he's so rare now
he's a celebrity -
a star of 'Springwatch'


I don't blame his action -
last one was eaten alive by maggots
and the vet put him down


a defiance of spikes,
impression of a weapon -
always on the run.
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EU & Prison - conversations on trains

4/14/2017

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Picture
   Friday June 24th last year, morning after the EU referendum result was announced.
   The Disunited Kingdom had voted Leave and so had the majority in my home town of Merthyr Tudful.
   I knew many people - left, right and centre of politics - who were devastated.
   But my own ambivalence was epitomised by two men on the train I took to Cardiff that morning.
   I only picked up on the final exchanges of their discussion. They were about the same age and could've attended the same school, yet couldn't have been more different. One was smartly-dressed in office wear and carrying a laptop, on his daily commute to work in the city; the other was with his girlfriend and the worse for wear after a rough night in town,
unshaven and sporting trackies and baseball cap.
   From the end of their argument I could imagine what had gone before.
   The commuter sat down , intent and worried over his computer and talked about the contracts his firm could lose as a result of the referendum. His fear for the future was palpable.
   The other just shrugged and offered no words of sympathy, turning his back and making for the front carriage.
   I really felt sorry for this office-worker, perched on the cliched cliff-edge without a mobile to contact emergency services.
   I also empathized deeply with the man who'd obviously voted Leave and who had nothing to lose.
   Though Merthyr's prospects have improved because of retail parks, most jobs are poorly paid and unemployment is still a stark reality, with one of the biggest employers St. Merryn's Meats recently laying off hundreds.
   The EU, Westminster and also, to a lesser extent the Welsh Assembly Government must all shoulder responsibility for not improving the situation in one of the poorest areas in Europe, namely the Valleys.
   However, the reason for the referendum in the first place was a dubiously cynical one, with Prime Minister Cameron trying to stultify the impact both of UKIP and strident Eurosceptics in the Tory Party.
   Referenda themselves are a highly flawed and often dangerous means of gauging opinion, despite the relatively positive effect in Scotland energised by 16-17 year-olds having the vote and views which , until Gordon Brown's telling intervention, did not focus as much on the fear factor.
   Without a highly politicised populace they can be readily exploited.
   Politics should be taught in schools from Year 7 onwards and need to consider all major political philosophies, from anarchism to fascism.
   Moreover, it needs to be integral to the running of schools, which should be democracies not dictatorships by Heads ( which most are at present).
   It's all very well talking about democracy with questions like : how can the EU be called democratic when an anti-austerity party in Greece had to impose severe cuts because of EU and IMF pressure ? ......and, how can Britain call itself a democracy with its unelected Head of State and second chamber which remains unelected also?
   But what about showing how democracy can work by getting pupils and staff to actually run their own schools and, therefore, feel part of these often alien institutions?
   For every opinion in favour of the EU there was another, equally valid, against it.
   The EU may well have enshrined laws protecting workers' rights, but it has enabled and, indeed, encouraged a system of European-wide exploitation of labour by landowners, companies and illicit 'gang bosses'.
   I can appreciate how Plaid Cymru want to be part of a wider Europe to jettison the hegemony of Westminster, yet also understand that the nation-state dominated EU will resist the national liberation of any smaller countries because of an overriding fear it will spur on the likes of Catalonia, the Basques, Corsica and Brittany.
   The referendum debate hardly touched upon the many excellent ideas from the left criticising the nature of the EU, with its entrenched pro-austerity and anti-nationalisation of industry agenda.
  Nor, on the other side, did it show sufficiently the extent to which grants had genuinely aided people in poor regions and the impact of organisations such as Communities First.
   The two young men sat in different carriages, travelled to different futures and I agreed with both of them.

   Another encounter on a train some months later illustrated how we are neglecting our young people.
   I met a young man of about 19, completely lost on Merthyr station ( it's one platform and all trains go to Cardiff). He couldn't read or cope with the information on the screen and I was glad to help and chat.
   He was from Tonyrefail, but had never been to Merthyr before ( about 15 miles away).
   He'd just been released from Merthyr Court after 2 days in Swansea jail. He'd been very drunk when arrested and couldn't recall what he'd done.
   All his belongings - including his mobile - had been kept at Swansea Prison.
   They'd given him a ticket to Porth and from there he intended walking to Tonyrefail, which is a fair trek.
   We talked a good while and he told me he worked at a Car Wash and liked his new job. He had previously worked in a juice factory and been forced to take loads of overtime. He spoke proudly of one 'butty' who had told the manager to 'Fuck off!' rather than work overtime on a weekend.
   There were no Unions and minimum wages.
   He was a strange mixture : sometimes worldly, often naive, very sociable but obviously struggling.
   Friend and fellow poet Mike Church once talked about 'social apartheid' when we did a reading in Brecon and was greeted with a degree of animosity.
   He used the judicial system to illustrate his point, with the criminal as ultimate outcast.
   In this young person's experience, I could see the truth in Mike's views.
   Some of the most intelligent and creative people I know have left school at 16 with few, if any, exam passes, but have gone on to educate themselves and enlighten many who have known them.
   In contrast, some of the most narrow-minded I've known have sackfuls of qualifications, yet only know about their very limited specialisations and can hardly even communicate these to others.
   The young man on that train is the product of a failed system, not himself a failure.
   He could go on to commit more petty crimes or they could escalate. He could settle down and get a decent job.
   The chances are he doesn't possess the basic skills to cope, like many who are incarcerated.
   The whole notion of failure should be abolished from our schools and colleges. Everyone has abilities and these need to be recognised and nurtured, not stifled in our current exam factories.
   Trains can be places of listening and learning too, especially on the slow descent down valley to Cardiff.

   This poem is from my forthcoming collection of poems in Valleys' vernacular, 'Sofa Surfin', out soon from Carreg Gwalch.........



GOIN  SOMEWHERE
For Gemma June Howell
 
It’s winter an I’m goin somewhere.
Carn sit down
my ead’s buzzin.
 
I’m on evr’ythin,
givin my number
an dealin a quick one.
 
I’m up an down
like a restless prick,
I’m a gobby cow, mouthy bitch.
 
Don’ take no messin.
See-a  tattoo of a snake
on my shoulder blade?
 
Well, tha’s gunna jump
an bite any bastard
tries t fuck me about.
 
It’s winter an I wear a black vest,
my blonde-dyed air the colour
of a manky sheep.
 
Don’ follow nobuddy,
no dog’s gonna round me up.
Goin somewhere, but it int on-a map.  


​                                         
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My Son & The Macaque

4/2/2017

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Picture
My son's reporting from the Rock of Gibraltar,
one of the last colonies
counting us, of course, 'Wealas' :
the land of the foreigner.


What you see on camera
is him talking EU referendum
next to a carrot-munching macaque,
finest inhabitant of that tax-haven.


Forget the rich, more-Brit-than-Brit
species peering down from balconies
waving Union Jacks and sipping tea,
snortling at those dreadful Spaniards.


This macaque's on a level with my son,
who has sun-bathed with aardvaarks,
interrupted the frog-march of Farage
and elephantine ego of Donald Trump.


What you don't observe on camera
is the thrusting poke of the ape's finger
sending his words like boulders
falling off the edge of the Empire.

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