Born and educated in North Wales, Jan Williams taught
Physical Education in England,
Jamaica and Western Australia before changing lanes and moving via Brisbane to Townsville in
She attributes her poetical inclinations to her early
exposure to Welsh traditions.
HERE ARE SOME SAMPLES:
Damn, Another New Year’s Eve!
Two thousand and ten was the busiest year.
Now reflections collide, and the mists reappear.
A newsbreak re-hashes the year that has been.
Two seconds per image flash up on my screen…
…in a whiz.
Old memories wink, and I glimpse an odd mix…
as the midnight countdown serves up a quick fix.
Dead faces. Live faces. They look the damn same.
Barack Obama waves down from a plane…
…just like show-biz.
Was that an African footballer scoring a goal?
Or a Chilean miner stuck deep in a hole?
An oil spill?...Volcano?...An earthquake in Haiti?
Julian Assange? Or William and Katie?
…a fuse starts to fizz.
Was that the Pakistan
deluge, or the monsoonal rain
that drowned half of Queensland?
Could you show that again?
But, no…it’s too late…this year’s gotta go…
as the vu’zela’s trumped by a pink party blow…
Happy New Year!
1st January 2011
Dammit all, I’ve got to swear!
I’ve got to get it right:
I’ve promised lots of curses
in these verses that I write!
But I’m not a happy swearer
– tho’ I’ll try my flippin’ best –
so I know I’ll feel much better
once I get this off my chest.
I’m just a duffer as a curser.
I’m so sorry, now, I lied.
I only put the title in
to catch your blinkin’ eye.
But it worked alright, so here we are
– a sorry bleedin’ pair.
You, expecting blasphemy,
and me, too shy to share.
There, now, I’ve given it a blast.
We’ll have to hope that friggin’ volley
is enough to bloody last!
Britain – Reports released by an interfaith British group indicated that a
number of Britons are converting to Islam and that a high percentage of those
are young women in the 20-30 age group.
The Angel of Dearth
Do I look a bit mysterious
beneath my silken veil?
I’ve practiced all the glances
and I don’t intend to fail.
I’ve gone for something different.
I’m going to convert.
Instead of being plain old Jane,
I’m going to assert
You people just have no idea
what pea-brained drones you are.
You plod the treadmill day on day,
too dumb to stray too far…
to try a little otherness,
experiment a tad…
ignore the folks who say to you
‘it’s just another fad’.
They’ll never ever understand.
They haven’t got the will.
They’ll never know the feeling,
of being scowled and frowned at,
of being disapproved…
and knowing they can’t do a thing
to have your veil removed
My friend, she has a nose-ring.
Another has spiked hair…
with crude tattoos all up her arms
for just a bloody dare.
But, me, I’ve got my flimsy veil
with flimsy thoughts to match.
It makes me float above the throng
like an angel on dispatch.