Carnifal Pont-y-pwl 2011


Cyfrannodd dros hanner cant o bobl at gerdd gymunedol newydd a chyffrous yn trafod hanes a materion cyfoes yng Ngharnifal Pont-y-pŵl ddydd Sadwrn 9 Gorffennaf 2011.

Bu’r bardd Mike Church yn annog pobl a oedd yn ymweld â’r Carnifal a phobl leol i gyfansoddi ychydig o linellau i’w hychwanegu at y Gerdd Gymunedol.

Defnyddiwyd cyflythreniad, odl a rhythm i greu cyfansoddiad trawiadol yn edrych ar hanes Pont-y-pŵl a barn pobl heddiw am y dref.

Pontypool Carnival 2011

The Carnival Queen

Surveys her empire

Of balloons and bouncy castles,

Her attentive Salvation Army

Permanently mobilised

As the town awaits regeneration

With every passing year.

Rumours of God in the park

Are as real

As the inflatable loan sharks

And bubble guns

Of the Credit Union

Engaged in life changing encounters,

While some friends of the earth

Contest the concrete corridor to Cwmbran

‘It’s just Ponty init!’

Gone are the mines, the brickworks

And stretches of shop-soiled-streets shrink

And suffocate under the pedestrian parade

That relives a once busy, bustling market

Brimming with business.

Gone are the queues outside Woollies,

The three cinema’s full of smoke,

The hub of the pubs

That reflected a roaring right to work

As Torfaen teeters towards tumbleweed.

Now traders trade streamers and bunting

For flickering hope

Down the slope

Towards the long gone front row,

Where people go

For a revivalist summer meeting

By the beating heart of the Leisure Centre

The newest mentor for a changing crowd

That chases canvassing jobs in Newport’s big smoke

And is offered camouflaged careers

Caught in the net of the British Army’s

Inglorious Afghan adventures.

‘It’s just Ponty init!’

The Carnival Queen

Surveys her empire

Of anoraks and pushchairs

Of grinning face painted tigers

Holding dogs on leads

Of trapeze artists and sing-a-long fitness fanatics

Up to their knees

In the Ponty puddle

And in those muddied waters

A reflection of spirit

And grace

A community spirit,

A Carnival spirit

Where people look out

For one another’s shared history

And on the number 15 bus

Everyone talks to each other as one

Forgetting the college tutors

Who fail to pick up the accent of youth

The town centre may have died

But when the Carnival Queen has gone

The community lives on

‘It’s just Ponty init!’.