14. Barry Griffiths
A classic English eccentric, whose poetry both educates and entertains
Barry Griffiths is a staunchly independent man. He writes in his own unique style, breaking many of the “rules” of poetry, and his work is all the better for it. A healthy disregard for the rules is something that he celebrates in much of his writing. During his working life, Barry provided support and advocacy for workers who had been ill used by their bosses. His sense of justice pervades all of his work, as does his sense of humour.
His Collection Life Histories was published by the Headless Orphan Press in 2018.
Poems
Lines Written on the Eightieth Birthday of Brigitte Bardot An Ecological Disaster The Naked Rambler Dunford House, Wath - A Childhood Memory The Banker’s Lexicon Shot at Dawn
Lines written on the Eightieth Birthday of Brigitte Bardot
In my youth, she was the goddess of the screen Recollect a film in the 1960s I had seen Slipped in a ‘blue’ cinema, Sheffield, the La Delita Only seventeen, so had to go in incognita The film, God Created Woman, was regarded as immoral and vile I thought she was the epitome of grace and style She was explicitly sensual, but never lewd Danced in a trance, but was never crude To me she was the most beautiful woman in the world But after forty-seven films her world derailed Rejected being a sex symbol and retired in 1973 Still lives in St Tropez and lives beside the sea A recluse at thirty-nine, at the peak of her career Proud woman, she had no fear Brigitte was non-conformist, a rebel, She changed lovers at the slightest whim Married at eighteen to Roger Vadim She was called a bitch, a salope Survived the attacks and was able to cope Brigitte was full of panache and left me in a whirl So let me her story unfurl Bardot turned to animal welfare, reflected humanity For all that, there was no vanity Never avoided the cruel mirror’s gaze Didn’t resort to cosmetic surgery, breast implantation Or wrinkles trying to erase So Bardot at eighty On the 28th of September I will vividly remember. Gina Lollobrigida and Sophia Loren Were other screen goddesses of the time To this pantheon I will add Brigitte Bardot And will now end my rhyme
(Brigitte Bardot was 80 in September 2014 - perhaps Barry will mark her forthcoming 90th birthday with a further poem.) <<<
An Ecological Disaster
Trampling through Bluebell Wood no sound of the cuckoo resonates, It’s wondering voice… not heard, Two descending notes… missed echoing bell-like through the countryside Hesiod lyricised the cuckoo’s song ‘The harbinger of Spring’. Has not the brood parasite Not made it from Africa? Walking on the leach no sign of the Sparrow Hawk hovering in the sky with its dark grey plumage, ready to pounce on an unsuspecting victim, Pew – Kek- kek- kek goes unheard. Has it been blown out of the sky by that predator? The gamekeeper. Honey bees are dying, Extinction faces these black and yellow workers Ravaged by virus, parasites and climate change. Ironically, the short haired bumble bee Has been brought back to life at Dungeness, Oh what a paradox. Butterflies are declining, Unseen, a Chequered Skipper for many a year, Rarely the Adonis Blue and Duke of Burgundy Hedgehogs are scarcely seen, Persecuted by farming practice and mad driving. The March hare no longer universal. This year not seen, its angular haunching In fields aside its leverets, Wild flowers vanish. The bright blue of the dog violet the cornflower gone, a fixture of the cornfields of France A memorial to the fallen in our two great wars. Ponds are disappearing with the newt and bullfrog, Eels fail to return from the Sargasso Sea. Is this the end of civilisation? Or the cynical rantings of an old man On his view of progress <<<
The Naked Rambler
He was known as the naked rambler, Stephen Gough An ordinary bloke, no toff Roamed the countryside with nowt on except his rucksack and his boots Lived on his wits, had no roots Arrested continuously for a breach of the peace and lack of morals He was a pacifist who hated quarrels Maybe a bit odd, slightly eccentric and did not always follow the rules of society But he was harmless and caused no impropriety Felt liberated walking vast distances in the nude A sense of freedom – he was not lewd For a long time, he was banged up in Preston Prison Walking the Lakeland Fells was his vision From the Victorian gates at last he was released Re-arrested outside the gates by the police The charge - a conspiracy to outrage public decency A nineteenth century offence, which they said he did with frequency From his cell in Preston Prison Stephen Gough had another vision To appeal to the Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg So that he could roam with his knackers out A test case for the right to dress and undress without doubt Lord Justice Gradgrind kicked his case out Saying he was a felon, no moral principles and a gadabout His views did not dim, they would never cease For the undeniable right to dress and undress as he did please So, for oddity and eccentricity, we will give applause For Stephen Gough, we believe his activity was lawful and of just cause <<<
Dunford House , Wath - A Childhood Memory
That Nurse… What could be worse ?... Surely a curse… 1956 at Dunford House. Wath No reason to laugh. Went to have my teeth tested and see that my hair was not infested. no angelic smile to put me at my ease for a while. She ranted and raved although I was well behaved she looked at me with a savage smile I could see in her eyes the bile ‘Come here you little brat’ pulled me on the dentist’s chair there I sat, my face contorted mind set distorted ‘Breathe in this mask you little savage’ the anaesthetic will do you no damage.’ I heard the gas hiss and then remiss Out like a boxer hit on the head. Awoke with a scream, I wasn’t dead blood and broken teeth in the dentist’s sink quickly have to get out of there, had to think. Scrambled downstairs and jumped on a double decker Barnsley bus didn’t tell mam and dad, wanted no fuss. So long ago but the nurses face is still clear avoided the dentist ever since because of that fear. <<<
The Banker’s Lexicon
The Banker’s Lexicon Don’t look so daft a worthless loan that will land you in the bankruptcy court alone. QUANTITIVE EASING A phrase that sounds very pleasing Printing electronic money for the ‘fat cat banker’ Not for the lowly ranker To play through the night, online roulette, Causing folk like us to be deeper in debt. SUB PRIME LENDING The past rules of banking all bending, Swapping and selling bad debt at a price, Morally reprehensible and surely a vice In biblical language a practice known as usury A capital crime which the banks see as illusionary. LIQUIDITY TRAP Who’s going to take the rap? Electronic money, given to the banks by the state To invest and increase sales, but now it’s too late. COMMODITY SUPER CYCLE Jargon the bankers feel vital Speculation on basic metals grid, aluminium, copper, Causing third world economies to come a cropper. DERIVATIVE SWAPPING AND SUB PRIME LENDING Such action by bankers is morally offending Computer gambling, with the aid of the world wide web, Buying and selling shares with the aid of algorithms Akin to Joe Coral high class bet. Moral turpitude on such a grand scale Capitalism will not prosper And with its contradictions Will not fail. <<<
Shot at Dawn
Edith Cavell met her fate On October 12th 1915 That was the date Shot at dawn by a German firing squad Was a British nurse of the Red-Cross Died lonely and in isolation To British wounded troops she was such a loss Accused by the Germans of treason A charge beyond reason What a curse on this British nurse Met her cruel death Unrepentant to her last breath Two hundred wounded allied soldiers were grateful For her endeavours to save them from annihilation Regarded her as the British Joan of Arc And were full of praise and admiration Edith at her trial was accused of a political act Even on the eve of execution she did not retract Except to say - Patriotism is not enough I must have no hatred or bitterness for anyone The words imprinted on a statue of her near Trafalgar Square Pioneering nurse, Christian martyr, a good Samaritan To accuse her of treason, how do they dare? We remember her memory on the one hundredth anniversary of her death And celebrate her compassion Her integrity is not in doubt And her soul full of passion <<<
I love Barry's almost literal take on things, from Bardot to Banking. He sums up either behaviour so accurately. I'm trying to find the right word(s) to describe his 'obvious' style of statement. It can seem naiive (that's fresh, coming from Peter Pain!:) - deliberate typo - yet before that can become severe critique it's already melting with endearment. I think it helps that I've heard him recite his verse. If you think Burton was rich, this bloke is a gravel quarry.
I'm learning so much as I go, and hearing Barry I realise how much added value the author's own voice gives to a piece. That and the choice of subject matter; who else could for example, speak of Brigitte Bardot in such a charming way. Even the so-called erudite resort to Syd James-ish fwarring, upholding the ignorant stereotype, whereas Barry Griffiths shines a much kinder and realistic light on one of the 20 C's philanthropic luminaries.
An enjoyable and enlightening read, thank you Mr Griffiths