Ydych Chi’n Credu Mewn Hanes?
Rydych chi’n gweld, dydw i ddim yn siŵr am hanes.
Pwy sydd i ddweud beth yw un gair yn erbyn un arall?
Pwy sydd i ddweud bod y person hwnnw hyd yn oed yn bodoli?
Ni allai fod. Gallai arbed llawer o drafferth!
Tag Archives: poem
The Greek Wasp
Fifty times more large and powerful
than the one’s we saw at home,
a hornet wasp, had entered our holiday chalet.
The clashing together of fear and marvel
dragged us individually by both hands,
down the path toward a mild sense of panic
Spin Cycle
Folding clean clothes
in a front-facing bedroom, now spare
through the window listless I stare
Until I spy
riding high
upon a small bicycle
This pink-faced giant of a white-haired old man
stopped with his pedalling
a’coasting and a’buzzing
Leaning into a sharp loop
he pulls up outside the tavern
attempts a quick and clean dismount
Nay! Something’s amiss!
Something goes wrong
he’s caught up in the waver of a mid-air kiss
Buses For Women, By Women.
We’re women and we’re bus drivin’,
around your neighbourhood.
We only take aboard women (and girls),
is that clearly understood?
Brinkinfield 