In the 1970's, the Irish newspaper the 'Irish Press' would, every Saturday, publish a whole page of new writing . There would be a short story and several poems. Unknowns such as myself could rub shoulders in a national paper with prominent Irish writers like William Trevor ,the fiction writer, and poet Eavan Boland. It was edited by David Marcus, who went on to produce a book based on the New Writing pages. It was a bold and brilliant idea and gave many young writers their first opportunity to reach a wide audience.
Sadly, nowadays poetry is usually relegated to the review columns of newspapers. The 'Western Mail' used to entrust Peter Finch ( a regular columnist in their Saturday magazine) with the selection of a weekly poem. Now it's even rare for books of poetry to feature in their Books Page, let alone poems to be published. The 'Guardian' includes a poem in its Review section every Saturday, but that's an exception.
On English language radio and tv in Wales, poetry is virtually ignored. It used to have slots on both and also to feature occasionally on arts programmes, but an art form which has so many practitioners (though considerably less readers) is shunned. Poetry Societies may thrive, Open Mic.'s spring up in the most unlikely places and competitions attract thousands of entries, yet radio and tv treat it as the equivalent of underwater aerobics!
I have always imagined a tv programme which actually gave poetry its due. On Beeb Wales past the watershed, it would be called some awful pun such as 'A Bard Week'. It would include short films on individual poets or poetry groups and on poems themselves, employing the exciting creativity used on Tony Harrison's 'V'. Poets would be interviewed, books reviewed, there would be live studio performances and footage of important gigs. There could even be a regular competition judged by viewers in the manner of a Slam. It could be presented by Ifor Thomas who, having been through phases of clingfilm and chainsaws, would take to the bardic throne (not sofa) like a swan scooting across Roath Park lake.
Why should poetry be given any credence, I hear people say? In Cymraeg, poets are certainly raised on thrones, while English language poets can claim no such cultural significance.
Yet, in Wales especially, so many poets do identify closely with the places they live and often work in. To a far greater extent than England, Scotland and even Ireland, so many are inextricably linked to their communities : from Rob Minhinnick in Porthcawl to Nigel Jenkins in Swansea, from Christine Evans on the Llyn and Bardsey to Ruth Bidgood in Llanwrytd Wells. These and many more are all commited to the history and people of the places where they live. They may concentrate on the local, but their themes are universal.
There would be good reason to hold that poetry programme ('From Bard To Verse' or whatever) in a different location every week and focus on the work coming out of that area.
Of course, all this is mere fantasy. S4C may give whole programmes, or indeed series, to poets, but BBC Wales regards them with the suspicion afforded to anarchist vegetarian atheists (which some of us might well be!).
DARK GLASSES IN WINTER SUN
'It's lovely to ave the sun!'
said the man in dark glasses in wintertime.
'I wonder if the Pound Shop takes cards?'
asked the bargain-hunter down town.
'Der, these pavements arn arf icy!'
he commented, getting into his 4 x 4.
'Them stewdents re always drinkin anyway!'
he slurred after his 10th pint of lager.
'Them Taliban should be bombed to submission!'
he argued, threatening those who disgreed with him.
'Immigrants come yer, take ower jobs, live off Social Securitee!'
shouted Pat Foley, whose family once made that journey.
'What I ate are them oo re on'y Welsh rugby days!'
in his three feathers jersey, representing the monarchy.
'There'll always be rich an poor!'
declared the pie baron, from his spacious verandah.
'If people on'y followed Ower Lord!' said the Christian,
buying his own plot in heaven.
Sadly, nowadays poetry is usually relegated to the review columns of newspapers. The 'Western Mail' used to entrust Peter Finch ( a regular columnist in their Saturday magazine) with the selection of a weekly poem. Now it's even rare for books of poetry to feature in their Books Page, let alone poems to be published. The 'Guardian' includes a poem in its Review section every Saturday, but that's an exception.
On English language radio and tv in Wales, poetry is virtually ignored. It used to have slots on both and also to feature occasionally on arts programmes, but an art form which has so many practitioners (though considerably less readers) is shunned. Poetry Societies may thrive, Open Mic.'s spring up in the most unlikely places and competitions attract thousands of entries, yet radio and tv treat it as the equivalent of underwater aerobics!
I have always imagined a tv programme which actually gave poetry its due. On Beeb Wales past the watershed, it would be called some awful pun such as 'A Bard Week'. It would include short films on individual poets or poetry groups and on poems themselves, employing the exciting creativity used on Tony Harrison's 'V'. Poets would be interviewed, books reviewed, there would be live studio performances and footage of important gigs. There could even be a regular competition judged by viewers in the manner of a Slam. It could be presented by Ifor Thomas who, having been through phases of clingfilm and chainsaws, would take to the bardic throne (not sofa) like a swan scooting across Roath Park lake.
Why should poetry be given any credence, I hear people say? In Cymraeg, poets are certainly raised on thrones, while English language poets can claim no such cultural significance.
Yet, in Wales especially, so many poets do identify closely with the places they live and often work in. To a far greater extent than England, Scotland and even Ireland, so many are inextricably linked to their communities : from Rob Minhinnick in Porthcawl to Nigel Jenkins in Swansea, from Christine Evans on the Llyn and Bardsey to Ruth Bidgood in Llanwrytd Wells. These and many more are all commited to the history and people of the places where they live. They may concentrate on the local, but their themes are universal.
There would be good reason to hold that poetry programme ('From Bard To Verse' or whatever) in a different location every week and focus on the work coming out of that area.
Of course, all this is mere fantasy. S4C may give whole programmes, or indeed series, to poets, but BBC Wales regards them with the suspicion afforded to anarchist vegetarian atheists (which some of us might well be!).
DARK GLASSES IN WINTER SUN
'It's lovely to ave the sun!'
said the man in dark glasses in wintertime.
'I wonder if the Pound Shop takes cards?'
asked the bargain-hunter down town.
'Der, these pavements arn arf icy!'
he commented, getting into his 4 x 4.
'Them stewdents re always drinkin anyway!'
he slurred after his 10th pint of lager.
'Them Taliban should be bombed to submission!'
he argued, threatening those who disgreed with him.
'Immigrants come yer, take ower jobs, live off Social Securitee!'
shouted Pat Foley, whose family once made that journey.
'What I ate are them oo re on'y Welsh rugby days!'
in his three feathers jersey, representing the monarchy.
'There'll always be rich an poor!'
declared the pie baron, from his spacious verandah.
'If people on'y followed Ower Lord!' said the Christian,
buying his own plot in heaven.
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