I will tell you a story of a man who has been put down, of a poor bastard who worked in a hole in the ground. It was dark and it was dirty, a dismal old well, as near as the living get to the torment of hell. To work on the coal face his ambition in life, to bring home more money for the kids and the wife. The reward that he got for doing his best, a ton of coal per month and the dust on his chest.
But in later years no promotion he found, and his wages decreased as he aged underground. The dust on his chest, the phlegm and catarrh, the back ache, the cuts, that familiar blue scar. At the end of his days there is a reward for his task, the coal board provide him an oxygen mask. Now broken and gasping from this lifetime of coal, born in a time when there was but coal or the dole. Such were his earnings from his labour of love that he is dead and buried below to provide coal up above.
Anthony Davies
Seeking Promotion
It is strange that we all miss the days we spent underground It’s strange that a man could miss the coal dust all around As a boy I felt that other jobs were never to be had My destiny was set for me I would be a miner just like dad.
The first day in the pit was a day of excitement and of shock Dust and sweat filled the air amongst the black coal and the rock The headings and the coalface, the roadways in and out The noise of blasting and machinery where every one must shout.
I found pride in the job I did and worked to make my mark To be promoted to the coalface where the dust was thick and black Or to work in hard headings and maybe break my back All of these are my options to get promoted in the pit But you’re demoted very quickly if you are hurt or sick.
The harder that you work and the longer that you stay The sicker that you get, and the less they want to pay In every job and every thing that other people do The system promotes and progresses them as they travel through Not so in a colliery they treat you like a horse With lots of hay, if you can work all day But then they will kill a willing horse.
So for those of us, who made it up and out, let us not feel to sad? Lets work where the roof cannot cave in, and the air is not foul or bad Let the world now take advantage of others far away An invisible face, in an unknown place, the price of coal must pay.
An industry was decimated because the price of coal high Not enough to breathe the dust, not enough to die. The cheek of us to ask to be paid, to go down and risk our life The cheeky greedy miner, who wants some money for his strife Now put out all your cigarettes and don’t contaminate the air Forget the greedy miner who lived with coal dust everywhere. ©
Anthony Davies, Port Talbot