Ashes Poetry

It’s started overcast but there are spots of blue between the clouds where the sun tries to peep through, a bit like the opening credits to The Simpsons. Watch out for a late call-up of Montgomery Burns to boost the Australian spin attack and the Reverend Lovejoy to act as international Match Adjudicator. For  slightly less whimsical prognostications, see the previous three posts, all under Cardiff.

On the train from Newport opened up The Western Mail where on page 3 Max Boyce has beaten me to it. He’s written a poem  “The Richest Dust” which will be TMS’ed on Saturday lunchtime http://www.walesonline.co.uk/videos-and-pics/videos/showbiz-lifestyle-video/2009/07/07/max-boyce-the-richest-dust-91466-24099187/ It’s not a bad poem, it’s quite good in its way, telling the Ashes story in thirty-two lines, and the ending is smart:-

“So if England win at Cardiff
we’ll cremate the stumps and bails
and the richest dust in England
will forever be in Wales!”

You can see exactly why Graeme Mourie said ‘You can never beat the Welsh at rugby, just score more points than them.’

It’s not poetry. If that sounds odd, look at this way. It’s occasional verse, in both senses, verse written for the occasion and an someone who isn’t poet penning a few lines every now and then. There is no surprise in the language, imagery or ideas, that surprise which immediately makes complete and natural sense. Poets strive for that. You can hear it even if you don’t understand the language – when Katherine Jenkins sang the Welsh national anthem you can tell it’s poetry even understanding a word of Welsh, in a way that the English national anthem is purely verse, and wholly unpoetic. The final two lines exemplifies:-

Ni luddiwyd yr awen gan erchyll law brad,
Na thelyn berseiniol fy ngwlad.

[The muse has eluded the traitors' foul knives
The harp of my country survives.]

Wales has a poet laureate, Gillian Clarke - http://www.academi.org/national-poet-of-wales/i/130562/ Why wasn’t Gillian asked to write a poem? After all, she’s not expected to fill in for Max doing stand-up comedy?

Cardiff is an unexpected joy. The walk from the station, with its proud Great Western Railway stonework, to the ground, a delight and testament that modern urban planning can and does work. Admittedly Cardiff drivers take no prisoners, but even the old industrial city reminders – a railway water tower and the Brains brewery chimney fit the scene. Old South Wales welcomes New South Wales in more ways than one, and everyone seems proud of their capital city – there is no grafitti. I want to come back again, for the city itself, not just the cricket. Getting into the ground is a breeze, it’s at least as good any test match arena in England; well done, Glamorgan. Opening ceremonies over, we get down to the serious stuff. At stumps England are about 337 for 7, not quite what they wanted on winning the toss, but perhaps more than they feared at 90 for three. Strauss will be a little disappointed, Ponting a little relieved. Throughout the day, England tried to get away, Australia, as great sides do, pulled them back in. Flintoff and Pietersen going, when going like trains, both playing on, shows how the Aussies quicks just held it through a little, a little short of a smackable length to lead to the batsmen overreaching themself. Fascinating

It was truly absorbing cricket. My next door neighbour was a psyiotherapist specialising in sports injuries, and explained how Pietersen Achilles restricts him so – maybe that’s why the Flamingo shot isn’t still in the locker. Me, I say KP is Achilles brooding in his tent, at the end of day he leaves remarking that the ECB is Menelaüs. Never got his name. Here’s the play tweet by tweet – you’ll need to know the day’s play to make much cricketing sense of them….

1. “You clench your fists, you stand tall, it’s more than just a shirt” held together with pride and courage in the sweat shop of heroes. 
2. favorite this update”>Welsh Guards boil in bearskins, awaiting the toss and bread of heaven. “We’ll have a bat” sez Straussy. They kept playing on the Titanic
3. R Bopara, who art a batsman, show them thy maker’s name. Play & miss, to play & play again, on earth as in heaven, in this, God’s game. Amen
4. Hard going for poms, Aussies strictly wicket to wicket, prematch lunchtime score 79 for 1 looks about par. Ponting wants to get at KP asap
5. Strauss daraus, nicht bar Hilfenhaus. Pietersen darein einmals, aber ins spiel ins spiel der glucklicher Rava Bopara ist moglichkeit brahma
6. Timbre too paltry The sound KP’s bat rends with the ball is judgemental and dismissive; Achilles aroused from his tent, raw power his armour
7. At tea four and five both half-centuries mirror first day Adelaide 2006 will second time round antipodes run to favour Albion as Oz miss Lee
8. Never mind running to favour Albion HMS KP Achilles favours whip-crack drives to swift signals to his dodgy achilles from ML Collingwood
9. Collingwood fishes, Haddin torpedo-dives to take edge single-handed, catch of the day not for sale at local chippies
10. New ball next over may well decide the remains of the day
11. Kevin, what would your mum say for sweeping outside off-stump? Send you to bed without any tea, tidy your room and brush up shot selection?
12. New ball beats the boundary ropes, redness matches Aussie faces as the Barmy Army chortle for old time’s sake under a Simpsons’ sky – Bart!
13. Prior 50 from 52 balls, the next Adam Gilchrist?

Matt flattered to deceive joyously. And the poem? We did get some at the opening ceremony. William Blake, Song of Innocence and Experience, Jerusalem, now a national hymn. ‘Build Jerusalem’ he exorts. But it’s only an exortation, when all’s said and done – how?

Building Jerusalem

Of course you’ll require a plan and vision
No doubt necessary funds and contingencies
Not to mention the very best of materials
And professionals, artisans and trades people
Of the utmost and attested quality.
(Did Joseph of Arimathea examine City & Guilds
Or take word of mouth the lad’s dad was a carpenter?)

But that’s not all, not by a long chalk,
Line and level running through millennia
Before you start on the big idea.
Pause, keep your feet on the ground,
The still earth the goliath machine
Of Progress disturbs, to turn tonka toy,
including itself. Politicians mum your words:
Where else is the past?

Each Jerusalem build upon another, their shadows
Shelter plain city-less lands; complicated enough.
Demolish at peril Jericho walls
Or your new Jerusalem will be jerichoed too.

Taff-side they heed the curve of history
To help you feel great to be alive.
Old South Wales welcomes New South Wales
In more ways than one. Watching play
You see the new wicket holds all the games
Concluded previously. It is done.

Day 1 First Ashes Test, Cardiff  Wednesday 8th July 2009