A possibly unfinished poem about Cardiff, the city he lived in almost all his life.

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Cardiff Twist on District List

Our city’s area’s to name

Would be boring, and a shame

Read the list and you’ll be hissed

But add a rhyme and you’ll be fine

No need for relevance or rhythm

A rhyme in time

And all’s forgiven!

So light a lantern up in Canton

Build a plot in Splott

Find a mission in Llanishen

And boy, you’re getting hot!

Translate alpha in Gabalfa

Make an oath in Roath

Catching felons in Saint Mellons

And we’ll get medals, both.

They feed dragons in Saint Fagans

From the diner in Rhiwbina

Call staff forth from Llandaff North

And nothing could be finer!

Some Dress comely in Llanrumney

Touchy-feely out in Ely

Come from Forfar to Tremorfa

And you’ll think of smiling, really

You’ll find spare water in Fairwater

And a drake stride out of Lakeside

Reads the banner in Pontcanna

And you’ll smile again, inside!

Ride the range down towards Grangetown

Wearing socks sold down the Docks

To a dark or lit church out in Whitchurch

So let’s attend in flocks

They chew Chen gum in old Pengam

Spend unseen in Pengam Green

Madams frown in Adamsdown

If you know what I mean

Church an’ Taff, Welsh for Llandaff

Has sin cloyed those in Cyncoed?

What men work around Pentyrch?

Only those employed!

Chase a Druid in Plasnewydd

Catch a phrase to teach Cathays

Scrub the deck with, folks in Leckwith

And sail away for days

All are cute down lovely Butetown

Oh, I say it’s Cardiff Bay

Joanna Lumley prefers Rumney

But the lady loves Milk Tray

How birds grin, to stain Pentwyn

And peck organs down, in Morganstown

But no such plan in Penylan

As it’s already brown.

They take senna in Pontprennau

And blame sport throughout Danescourt

‘Do your head in’ with Llanedeyrn

That’s why they’re all so short.

No need kill, those in Thornhill

But this gain is in Lisvane

And from Cowbridge down to Trowbridge

Falls the rain in Spain

Winds yon windlass in Tongwynlais

To hoist the wan in Cefn-on

Sparkling teeth enlighten Heath

Until they’re all but gone.

The Enquirer hides in Caerau

While shivers ride in Riverside

But turn insane by Pentrebane

To wander far and wide.

Change of name be, done in Maindy

But can’t fill a bladder now in Radyr

Who trod a path in Gwaelod-y-Garth?

The one who stole the ladder!

Come on down to Crockertown

And enter our town centre

Cycles gone in Michaelstone

And so they lack a mentor.

Press the Hash Key in Mynachdy

To end and count the clock out

To go ten rounds, the castle grounds

Most surely is a knock-out!

MORE AREAS BELOW POSSIBLY

SO MAY INCLUDE AFTER FINDING OUT.

Hurry orf Atlantic Wharf

Then check mate on Cardiff Gate

…

15 July 2012

now off to Oscar’s Christening

Spiro, The Soul Crew and The South Wales Echo

I think my dad may have had tongue in cheek while writing this. Although he did go through a spell of wearing a Burberry cap and smashing stuff up when City lost.

I don't think the Echo printed this one...

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21 May 2002

Viewpoint

South Wales ECHO

Thomson House

Havelock Street

Cardiff      CF1 1XR

Dear Fellow Football Fans

I must comment on that TV show called ‘Hooligans’ and screened on Channel 4 last Sunday.

The showpiece made me so proud to be a City Fan, that I immediately accessed the website advertised and became a member of the Soul Crew.  How inspiring it is to know that a gathering of well dressed Cardiff City fans are able to dominate their English counterparts

Do join us if you love the true meaning of football

Yours sincerely

 Spiro Jones

April Fools 2003

In honour of April Fools, here's the most successful trick my dad every played. These postcards were printed out by the dozen and sent to over a hundred friends, family and general acquaintances. At least one person (that we know of) turned up to her local GP with a urine sample. Rumour has it that the NHS in Wales gave a hoax warning to all a staff as a result.

But what was most funny (and possibly indicative of the organisational structure of the NHS) was that some doctors thought it was genuine and actually treated patients as a result.

So despite some people feeling foolish, this is a trick that may have had a net positive in the world. Better than littering the houses of the visually impaired, anyway.

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Front

Back

The Afterlife

A very dark and serious poem about death and the afterlife. Or at least, my dad's version of dark and serious.

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The Afterlife

The widow in her bed awoke
A voice called out her name
‘Mabel, Mabel, can you hear me?’
Chilling the air from whence it came

She stared into the darkness
And tremblingly replied
‘Henry darling, is that you?’
Though she knew that he had died

‘Yes, my dearest, it is me.
Didn’t I say that when I died
I would contact you again
From beyond the other side

‘Oh, Henry, Henry, how are you?
How is life beyond the grave?
Is it nice in paradise?
How do you pass the time of day?’

‘Oh, it’s lovely, Mabel darling,
Here the sun shines all day long
So every morning when I wake
I just burst into song.

‘I have some bread for breakfast
And then go down for a swim
I stroll along the gardens
And frolic in the wind

I have some bread at lunchtime
And take another dip
I mate with several females
Then take a little kip.

‘I eat some bread for supper
And take a final splash
It’s so serene and peaceful
No need to fret or dash’

‘But Henry, when you were alive’
The widow sternly said,
‘You were always in a rush
And you never ate your bread.

‘As for swimming, you astound me,
It was something that you hated
You couldn’t even swim, my dear
And we certainly never mated!

‘The afterlife has changed you so’
Henry answered, ‘It’s just luck,
For when I was upon the earth
I was not a little duck!’

30 November 2010

More Karaoke!

Five more "interpretations" of some of Frank's classics. Taken from the album Out of the Frying Pan - sent out of the blue to about a hundred bemused friends and family members at some point in the late 90s.

Despite the lyrics, he had a great relationship with my mum. And with his his mother-in-law. Although in the latter case, mostly because she didn't understand the lyrics.

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Cardiff, Oh Cardiff

Come Fry With Me

(I've got fat) Under My Skin

That's Life With My Wife

Your Mother's Here To Stay

Niece from Greece

Another Cardiff City FC story. And another typical incident post-match involving my dad. These things tended to happen every week to him...

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Niece from Greece
One of our delightful young nieces, that we’d never ever met before, and was really the daughter of Teresa’s cousin Lena, came to stay with us in Cardiff while she attended college for the betterment of her squeaky speaky English.  Ismini was, fortunately for me,  a football fan, being from Thessalonika, a destination for several of St Paul’s letters of admonishment and good hope.  

Ismini, known as Minnie, was 21 years old and with a background in department stores and tavernas, her mother however, wished to turn her into an air stewardess.  Hence her presence in South Wales and her ambition to improve her basic English.

Thus it was that we wended our way to the Cardiff City Stadium one mild evening in February to cheer on our darling Bluebirds taking on the Foxes of Leicester City.  We met up with a pile of friends and made our way to the upper tier to witness the commencement of battle.  When at a live match, I use an earpiece tuned to Radio Wales in my one ear and a chatty chum, usually Martin,  in the other ear to provide commentary and fill in the fickle fortunes of a 22 man tournament.  

We howled and cheered the match away while Minnie took videos and photographs on her mobile phone, and Cardiff were victorious by two goals to nil.  A little lucky at times, but we were happy enough to win.  You must understand, although foxes can catch chickens easily enough, bluebirds are much more elusive.  We soar downwards, take a couple of pecks at those silly foxes, and off we escape back up to the sky.

With voices just about still intact, we supped on a glass of lager in the Premier Lounge in order to give our transport a little time to get to us.  There was a stadium of over 22,000 to clear so there was no rush to get away amongst the bustling crowds.  Instead we took a leisurely drink and watched the other results roll in.  


Then we strolled outdoors again, me holding onto her arm, to find Teresa for our lift home.  While walking around the car park, Minnie said suddenly,  ‘Oh look, there’s our black player!’ and started to drag me towards him.  Before I knew what hit me, Minnie asked him imploringly for ‘One Picture please’ in her most ingratiating accent, and pushed me next to him.  It must be Seyi Olifangana, our Nigerian star I thought to myself with immense satisfaction.  Fantastic.  He was so unexpectedly tall, he ducked his head down to my level in order that Minnie could get us both in the same frame.  I said to him after her mobile had brightly flashed, she’s come all the way from Greece to support Cardiff.  He acknowledge my comments with a foreign accent of his own.  He was a really great guy, very charming and polite.

Before I had a chance to thank him properly, Minnie dragged me off again to pose with another player.  ‘One picture please’ she repeated.  I didn't know who it was, but he put his hand on my shoulder at Minnie’s charming supplication and we both smiled for her camera.  As I thanked him, she dragged me off yet again and approached another cluster of players.  This time I stood back as she snapped away at their compliant smirks.

It suddenly occurred to me that no one else was autograph hunting or taking photographs of our beloved heroes.  It may have been 30 or 40 minutes after the end of the match, but surely there would have still been enough City fans around to mob the players.

That Homer Simpson moment hit me straight between the eyes!  Doh!  I turned to my niece from Greece and said, ‘Are you sure these are our players?’  for we seemed to be surrounded by not just one or two players, but the whole squad.  She stopped concentrating on her mobile phone for a moment and looked around us.  Then she laughed as she recognised one of the players.  ‘Oh no’ she replied and started to giggle, ‘there’s the Japanese substitute that came on for Leicester in the second half.  I recognise him now’.

Oh goodness!  This story must be kept top secret.  Nobody must know that I have been posing with the opposition.  Posing only?  Nay, not just posing, but smiling and cavorting with the enemy!  If Minnie ever turned out to be an unscrupulous operator, she could certainly hold me to ransom.  But fortunately, she is my niece from Greece.

27 February 2011 

Blind

Another Video Nation entry and the associated letter he sent to the BBC. The content could be thought of as dark, but the insight into my dad is illuminating. As he mentions in his letter, his friends (and family) didn't see this side of him too often.

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31 July 2000

Video Nation
Community & Disability Programmes
British Broadcasting Corporation
Room G509
White City
201 Wood Lane
London W12 7TS

Dear Chris & The Gang

re- BBC Online Proposals

Hope I find you all fit & fine and wonderful & well, and positively bursting out all over with all the joys of summer.  I am actually flying out to Corfu today, so I shall be returning in a fortnight pronouncing over and over in a bewildered daze ‘COR-bloody-FU’!*!  Yes.  Despite having been born on the island, I just can’t stand the heat!  Ouch.

Thanks for your recent letter regarding the resurrection of some of your shorts.  I’ll need bloody resurrecting when in my shorts in Cor-Phew, I can tell you!  Fine.  No objections to being screened.  Only trouble is, the one you mention, ‘Blind’, runs for well over 3 minutes, I think.

I haven’t seen the Online clip you mention, but no doubt one of my offspring will call it up for me.  I do have access to the internet at work, but usually PC screen readers clash with other sounds on the sound card.  I’ll try to get in when I get back.

If you want some accompanying text to my clip, here goes:


All people are made up of many components, just like a car.  Disability is only one small part in an immense and complex whole that goes into making up a person and his personality.

This clip shows a little part of me during a sleepless night when all the rest of creation seemed to be in their beds and I had the world to myself.  People that know me would not recognise me in this introspective mood.  They know me as jolly and affable.  Indeed, one of my closest friends, Eric, said ‘I could have watched a half hour programme because the short film revealed something about you that I was not aware of.  I would have loved to have heard you in that mood for longer’.

Blindness is a hindrance, yes.  But blindness is only one small part of me, the rest of me is entire and bursting at the seams.

Love
Spiro

I hope something of this nature will suffice.  Edit it as you wish by all means.

In a previous letter from your offices, you said that you would make arrangements to collect your camera.  However, the camera is still in my possession.  I find myself a bit of a celebrity with a reputation as a steeplejack since your several showings of my Greenhouse short.  Ha.

All the best of best wishes.  Hear from you soon.

God bless

Spiro Sueref