A STORY FULL OF LOOSE ENDS

(with thanks to Mathanan Maharasingam)

From the Ministry of Creativity
one day the order went out,
not as a whisper or murmur,
more like a mighty shout,
“We've managed to measure learning
by chopping it up into bits,
if we can't do the same with something else
we're just a bunch of twits.


“We'll try to map out just where it begins,
we'll pin down inspiration,
then circumnavigate genius
and probably intuition.
It can't be much more complex
then measuring an English mile.
It's just the same as counting, isn't it?
in a slightly different style.


“The point is, once you can measure,
you can work out what it's worth
and then you can surely market it
just anywhere on this Earth.
Some say that creativity
is just a magic spark,
but Aims and Objectives are the way
to bring it out of the dark.

“So measure, measure, measure,
that's what we need to do,
then a mystery like creativity
will be easy as counting to two.
All the artists and musicians,
they think they've got something to say,
now we can mark them up for tax
and no one can wriggle away.”


So the Ministry of Creativity,
with a whole range of lengths and shapes,
ordered a million measuring sticks
and lots of different tapes.
Now there were rulers in plastic and wood
and others of stainless steel,
and many a builders' measure stretched
on an automatic reel.

But once the rulers were gathered,
without any more to-do
the strangest thing began to occur -
they paired off two by two.
And there in the Ministry Building,
the rulers, now on the loose,
before the Minister's eyes himself, began to reproduce!

Soon there were babies everywhere,
a few millimetres long,
but then they grew up in inches,
and feet while still very young.
There were more and more, and bigger,
in every Ministry room,
and many with different parents,
as hybrids, began to bloom.

So out of the doors and windows,
they burst upon the street,
where visitors to the Capital,
found thousands under their feet.
They frightened the Horse-guard horses,
they filled Trafalgar Square,
and hardly within a week, it seems,
the rulers were everywhere!

So the Ministry of Creativity
abandoned the project at once,
though never admitted that they had
messed up on such a stunt.
But deep in the world of the artists
where the artists respond as they feel,
Damien and Tracey and all their mates
made sculptures in wood and steel.

Bands like the Magic Numbers
were top of the hit parade
and a national craze in line dancing
put all other forms in the shade.
But those who work in the Ministry
who closed ranks to cover their pain,
said they'd never do any more measuring
with anything, ever again. 4/3/08


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DRAGONFLY

Green is her body
and invisible her wings,
and we only see her when she moves,
as move she must,
circling round the tiny pond
in the corner of the garden,
where all the leaves
are as green as her body
and the air invisible as her wings.

But she keeps moving
and she keeps hovering
round the edges of the water,
especially where there is moss,
she hangs close to the pool's edge,
curving her tail under
while she lays her eggs,
pausing here and there
as she keeps hovering, keeps moving.

And she glides this way and that,
as now and then her wings clatter
against the leaves, while she searches
for every strand of the moss, propels herself,
like a perfect emerald helicopter,
up and down and round about
the flat of the water,
her wings clattering against the leaves.

Clearly she's so busy,
so delighted with her task,
not even bothered by our presence,
totally absorbed
in her final stage of existence,
for once she has disposed
of all her eggs unseen,
soon she'll fade away, with nothing else remaining
of her joy in the task that delights.


5/9/06 Incident observed in Bristol. In memory of Jeremy Brent

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A NEW SLANT ON AN OLD STORY



At this time of the year, according to local legend, somebody in the village might well hear the ghostly sound of a horse galloping down Church Lane. The story holds that this is either Guy Fawkes or Thomas Bates, servant to Catesby, either of them hoping to escape justice by riding from London to Dover and beyond. Whatever we believe, I'm convinced that ghost stories help to resolve tensions and mysteries in the community, and if this is so, what is the significance of Tatsfield's fleeing horseman?

With two possible contenders for the rider, we already have some basic confusion. But linking this 'ghost' to the Gunpowder Plot creates even more problems. Fawkes was in custody from 5th November 1605 to his execution, while Bates and others fled to the Midlands and were soon caught at Holbeche House in Staffs. Obviously ghosts can appear wherever they want but why should either of these turn up in Tatsfield? Recent events, however, have brought to light aspects of village history which previously seemed to be only known to a few interested historians.

Two separate articles by Eileen Pearce, for September/October 2004 first revealed information on the three Welsh princes who were fourteenth century lords of Tatsfield Manor and then described the archaeological dig carried out that summer at the site of their original Manor House, close to the Church. These articles do provide some background, but I'd like to recap a little and tell again the princes' story. When Edward I finally demolished Welsh resistance to invasion in 1283, apart from killing Llywelyn the Last in battle and later his brother Dafydd, he managed to buy off another brother, Rhodri, by getting him to swear allegiance in return for some land in England.

Although Rhodri did also acquire other estates around the country, that land was of course the parish of Tatsfield. His son, Thomas ap Rhodri (also known as Thomas of Tatsfield) was probably born in the village and seems to have been a successful businessman who bought and sold land and ran a pottery near Clacketts Green. His son in turn, also perhaps Tatsfield born, was Owain ap Thomas, known as Lawgoch which means Redhand. As a young man, he moved to France where he supported Charles V against the English in the 100 Years War. He became the leader of a number of ex-patriot Welshmen who had thrown in their lot with the French and hoped to win back Welsh independence, with Owain as their prince.

However Edward III sent out a spy named Jon Lamb who, gaining Lawgoch's trust, killed him in 1378 with his own dagger. Very soon afterwards nearly all Owain's manor houses in England were deliberately demolished by agents of the King, because Lawgoch was deemed a traitor. This included the manor, or court, at Tatsfield but the same agents found that all the land there had been parcelled off to local friends of the family, so the King gave the squiredom to the Uvedales who till then only had jurisdiction over Titsey. There are hints that Owain Lawgoch had a wife in France, but he died without issue and ever since then the two parishes have been closely linked. It is easy to imagine the dismay of the Medieval villagers to all these events. It is very likely that Thomas was a popular squire who had brought some stability to the parish. The skeletons of Thomas and his wife Cecilia are buried under the floor of the Church to this day.

What the locals thought of the young squire going off to war in France we can't say, but news of his death and then the total and wanton destruction of the Manor House, no doubt the finest building in the village, must have left many in shock. Probably there were those who wondered if his spirit would return to search for the house that was utterly swept away. This ghost had every reason to be in the village, so when witnesses first heard the sound of galloping hooves that was the obvious explanation. We will never know for sure, of course, but I suggest that by the time of the Gunpowder Plot, local people had long forgotten the princes from Wales, so it was easy to attach a new traitor to the story though, as it turned out, a traitor with hardly any real reason to be in the village at all.

Nevertheless, such was the excitement of the times that the tale gained a new impetus which has carried it right through to modern times today. Incidentally, one of the trusted worthies who received some of the land parcelled off by the princes was Roger de Stanyngdenn. Could this have been a distant ancestor to the Standing family, by any chance?

Recommended links
Medieval News: Tatsfield Wales Archeaological Finding

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A Celebration of Poetry




The following forward was written by Mark Abraham and published in the booklet "A Celebration of Poetry", which was put together during 2007 and finally published in 2008 by the Chorlton Arts Festival. The publication came into being after a year long competition of local writers from the Chrlton-Cum-Hardy area in South Manchester.


Personally, I do not like poetry competitions, indeed competitions in general. In this I am not alone. They clearly work for marathons, but for any artistic endeavor they mean very little. The 'best' poem is picked out by a chosen expert, the one piece, in fact, which he or she just happens to like the most. All the other entrants simply disappear. So in 2007 we tried an experiment, an experiment which was more than just successful! Instead of the usual poetry challenge, Chorlton Arts Festival organized a 'celebration' of Chorlton in verse. There were to be no losers. Everyone who took part would win.

As a result we had well over 20 entrants (more than in previous years) and all poems were of a high standard! A few poets even sent in three or four pieces, and out of these we chose verses most appropriate to the area. There were also two short sections of prose, both of which, as you will see, are quite moving. The whole collection certainly gives us a sense of Chorlton itself, which is exactly what we hoped for.

On the first Saturday night of the Festival 2007 most entries were performed by the writers themselves to a packed audience at the Lloyd's Hotel, and it was also planned that a booklet would follow which could be available at outlets across South Manchester. This is the publication you now hold in your hand. We hope you enjoy reading it.

Chorlton is one of South Manchester's more vibrant communities, and this is reflected in the Festival which grows bigger every year. We hope that this collection expresses the range of local voices, both young and old, heard today in the streets, houses, bars, shops and schools of Chorlton-cum-Hardy.

March, 2008

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FOREWORD FOR 'BY PILGRIM COTTAGE DOOR'





This collection of poems is the second third of a series of pieces based on or near the village of Tatsfield, the most easterly parish in the county of Surrey. The first third, also published by I*D Books (Connah's Quay 2001) was called 'By The Field With The Round Corner', and two two collections taken together with a third and final anthology are meant to constitute an overall series of poems called 'A Tatsfield Tapestry.'

Pilgrim Cottage was the name of a tiny two-room house on Ninehams Road where my mother and myself lived for most of the Second World War. The building was knocked down in the seventies when Barry Watson, who then lived there with his family, built a much larger home on the same plot. By that time the property had changed its name to Treeview, the title that it still enjoys. The first collection of village poems was launched at the WI Hall on Paynesfield Road, Tatsfield, on the 24th October 2001. Barry, incidentally, has very recently published his first booklet of verses entitled 'Fireside Poetry'. We wish him good luck with his efforts.

There is one obscurity in this booklet which I feel deserves some explanation. The name Sithersay (page 9) is taken from a supposed reference to Titsey in the Domesday Book. Also Elsa, in the same poem, is the actor Elsa Lanchester who tells in her autobiography (Elsa Lanchester, Herself), how she once made love in Titsey Woods. 'Time-slip' is the only poem which has already appeared in the first collection, only hear it has a revised middle stanza.

I must thank the following people for their contribution to the final form of this booklet. First, there are Dorothy Burgess, Vic Greenfield and Dorothy Teague who all read the poems and made recommendations, as well as Hussein Al-alak who helped me with the editing. But I must also express thanks yet again to the I*D Writers' Group, especially Maureen Coppack, Alan Seager, Carol and Stuart Taylor, Ruby Roberts, Luigi Pagano, Clive Hopwood and others for their support and useful comments at all times. And further thanks to those friends in the village itself who have continued to help, namely Eileen Pearce, Rosemary and David Brown and Tony Watson.

Many thanks also to Mike Carter and the Manchester Area Resources Centre (MARC) for all the work put into setting up and actually printing this booklet.

The cover design is based on a lino-cut made by my father Sydney Abraham sometime in the 1940's. Originally a Christmas card, it shows a stylised version of Pilgrim Cottage itself, with its tin roof and veranda front. By Pilgrim Cottage Door was printed by the Manchester Area Resource Centre.

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FOREWORD FOR 'BY THE FIELD WITH THE ROUND CORNER'

The 35 pieces in this collection have all sprung from the village of Tatsfield which sits on the Surrey side of the border with Kent at one of the highest points on the whole of the North Downs. However, these pieces have been picked out from a larger collection to be name 'A Tatsfield Tapestry' because it is hoped they may carry a wider appeal than for just those readers from the immediate area. And because this is mostly where I grew up, these pieces do tend to reflect some of my earliest memories, memories which start during the Second World War and continue on until the 1980's.

I am indebted for the help of Dorothy Burgess, Victor Greenfield, Jaya Graves and Robert Delahunty who each read the larger collection and who made useful suggestions, most of which I have tried to accommodate. I also wish to thank Peter Sansom and members of the now defunct Holmfirth Writers' Group, West Yorkshire, as well as those in I*D Books of Shotton, North Wales, for all the support I have received over the years with much of this work. This last group includes Clive Hopwood, Maureen Coppack, Chris York, Joan Owusu, Walter Griffiths and others, but particularly Alan Seager for editing this collection and turning it into a book.

Thanks also to friends in the village itself who have shown support and corrected my failing memory on many occasions. These include Eileen Pearce, editor of the Tatsfield Parish Magazine and also of the Tatsfield Millennium History Project. Some of these poems appeared in both these publications in the late 1990's. But also thanks to Rosemary and David Brown of Paynesfield Road and Tony Watson with whom I went to school, all three for their support and enthusiasm.

The front cover has been taken from an original by my father Sydney Abraham, as created when he painted the first village sign which was set up on the Green in 1953. I'd like to thank Maureen and Stephen Coppack and Alan Seager for the work that went into the cover as a whole. The present village sign now shows Tatol, the supposed progenitor of the parish name, standing in the forest and holding an axe. The original 'field with the round corner' was a family name for a view to be seen across the valley from the house built by my grandfather.

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FOREWORD FOR 'ONE SMALL STRIDE'




On the night of the 29th September 1992, a young friend called Colin Murphy died in mysterious circumstances in an empty flat in Hulme, Manchester. We believe he was chased there, at night, by a gang of thugs who then set light to the building in order to drive him out. The game however went sadly wrong as he was overcome by the smoke.

This collection of poems is dedicated to his memory. The very first and last pieces refer to the incident which caused his death. 'Prayer' and 'The Dream Is In Another Room' are based directly on things he said. Other poems, like 'The First Valentine', 'With Apologies To Pastor Niemoellor' and 'At The Art Gallery, Stockport' were particular favourites of his. Others again were composed when we were both members of the Holmfirth Writers' Group, West Yorkshire, run by Peter and Ann Sansom before its sad and untimely demise due to changes in local authority funding.

'Pit Camp' dates from the time of the last struggles of pit closures when we supported the North Staffs Miners' Wives in their efforts to keep open the mine at Trentham, near Stoke. By then, Colin was dead but, as a close friend of Rose, Brenda, Bridget and others, without question he would have spent days and weeks helping to maintain the vigil set up at the pit entrance. As it turned out this was one of the few mines to survive, but only through privatisation.

I suppose 'To A Certain Vegetarian' may seem like an attack on all those who refuse to eat meat, but it actually describes someone I knew who liked to impose her views on everyone else around her. It's really about the abuse of other peoples space and is one of the many pieces which have no direct connection to Colin whatsoever. By being included they help to make up the number of poems in the collection, which is 31. This would have been his age in years at the time of publication, had he been allowed the right to live.

Since the original creation of 'One Small Stride' most of Hulme in Manchester has been completely rebuilt. The block in which Colin lost his life, then known as Mallowdale, has been long demolished, but among the many new streets which have arisen in the area is one called Colin Murphy Road, so his memory is not just held in this publication but also in the very fabric of the city itself.

Many thanks then to Peter and Ann and members of the Holmfirth Group whose wise and supportive comments made so many of these pieces possible. Also thanks to Jim Burns and the Tuesday night group at Manchester University Extra-Mural Studies and the I*D Writers' Group who meet at Connah's Quay, North Wales. But I must also thank others who helped to make this collection possible, namely my wife Ruth and son Luke for listening so patiently and those who specifically read through the collection and made suggestions, many of which were accommodated. I refer to Linda Flower, Victor Greenfield and Robert Delahunty.

Also to Clive Hopwood, formerly secretary of I*D Books, who oversaw this booklet's final form. I must not finish without mentioning Councillor Mary Murphy, Colin's mother who with his brother and sister, has suffered his loss the most. It was she who suggested the original theme of 'Smoulder', the last piece in the book.

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