rhondda valley (Remove filter)
the Dust, the Dust
the Dust, the Dust
I remember the men,
their faces blackened with filthy coal
layers of carbon dust on skin,
slowly lining their lungs thick.
I think of them in the twilight,
two miles underground
hewing with axe and pick,
shirtless bodies glistening with sweat like morning dew
I see them coming home,
tired of the black
eyes like pissholes in the snow
unaccustomed to the light
and then,
and then their golden...
Wednesday 18th November 2009 3:18 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
41 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
46 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Fallen Leaf
54 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
1 hour ago
Yanma Hidayah on The heart that waited
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'Little Boy' 6/8/1945 (80 Years Ago)
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Starved.
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A SEASON THAT SKIPPED US?
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Elementary
1 hour ago