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Rhys Owain Williams
@rhysowainwilliams.bsky.social
Writer of poetry, fiction and other things | That Lone Ship (Parthian Books) | Hay Festival Writer At Work | He/Him | rhysowainwilliams.com
50 followers82 following40 posts

Never thought I’d be 6 years+ between books, but hopefully not too long until I get the next one finished. You can still pick up That Lone Ship from the Parthian website or anywhere that sells books. www.parthianbooks.com/products/that-lone-ship

Stacks of That Lone Ship at the launch event. The cover has a white silhouetted ship on a black sea with the title of the book above it and my name below it.
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Reminded on Instagram that the hometown launch of my first book was 6 years ago today. Great night in the TechHub Cafe in Swansea and had this lovely write up on the Parthian blog the next day: parthianbooksinternblog.wordpress.com/2018/09/18/the-launch-of-that-lone-ship-by-rhys-owain-williams

Me reading from That Lone Ship to a crowd at TechHub Cafe in Swansea in September 2018. I am on a stage with a microphone and still have hair on my head.
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Covered walkways & bridges leading to units either too big or too small, & that weird half-hidden piss-stained climb to an S4C studio. Took these photos of St. David’s back in 2021 when work began on the new Arena-adjacent square – I’m guessing we will eventually lose all traces.

The tired red-brick multi-storey car park at the edge of St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea. The sign says ‘St. David’s Shoppers Car Park’.
The closed-down Cranes music shop in the red-brick open-air St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea. Signs in the window say ‘Closing Down Sale, Everything Must Go’ and ‘Final Reductions’.
A closed-down shop in the red-brick open-air St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea. The sign says ‘Closing Down Sale’.
A covered walkway in the red-brick open-air St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea.
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Always been quite fond of St. David’s myself, even though growing up in the 1990s/2000s I only ever remember it being a bit of a ghost town on the edge of the city centre. Like Parc Tawe, it’s a 1980s pre-Internet vision of what shopping should look like in the 21st century.

One of the entrances to the red-brick open-air St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea. The second ‘s’ is missing from the sign that says ‘St. David’s’ above the entrance.
A closed-down shop in the red-brick open-air St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea. The sign says ‘Mane Attraction’.
A covered walkway in the red-brick open-air St. David’s Shopping Centre in Swansea.
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One for the Swansea ’eds: is this logo for the slowly-disappearing St. David’s Shopping Centre by the same artist as the much-loved Penscynor Wildlife Park car sticker, or is it just of the same time? Have only just clocked the similarities.

A stylised depiction of St. David on the sign for the St. David’s Shopping Centre car park in Swansea
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No matter what I do it seems that I will always confuse Brian Eno for Phil Spector and I can’t apologise enough to Brian Eno for that

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A fund has been set up by one of Chris’s friends to help his loved ones with funeral costs – if you’d like to donate to that you can do so here:

Chris Cornwell memorial fund, organized by Laura Dickens
Chris Cornwell memorial fund, organized by Laura Dickens

I have created this page in memory of our beloved Chris to raise funds for his funeral/cele… Laura Dickens needs your support for Chris Cornwell memorial fund

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Still can’t quite believe the tragic and unexpected news that Christopher Cornwell has passed away. Chris was such a warm-hearted and generous person – a champion of other writers and a wonderful poet who loved to test the boundaries of form in his constellation-like poems. RIP Chris x

Christopher Cornwell stands in front of the ornate doors of Swansea’s Guildhall. He has long dark hair and a beard and is writing on a piece of paper.
A poem from Christopher Cornwell’s collection ‘ergasy’. The text reads: 

SA20DNCB250BE
Brynmill/Burwell

- for lan Kalinowski

In Swansea,
the seagulls rest like grudges on ridges 
cl filament solder scar fuse last rim of light fusing :
a rivulet of milk in a crease of leather.
The Methodist church huddles the hunch 
like grandmother washing lettuce, 
unaware of being watched,
the arcs of mews barnacle its shoulder 
pulled by, fuelled by, the fuel:
the strong-smelling lost for things,
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Rhys Owain Williams
@rhysowainwilliams.bsky.social
Writer of poetry, fiction and other things | That Lone Ship (Parthian Books) | Hay Festival Writer At Work | He/Him | rhysowainwilliams.com
50 followers82 following40 posts