28 Scots Poems: Likeable Ordeal

1.Foo tae Makk a Poem I micht be Nelson, turning a blin ee tae the day's semaphore, sennin the touch paper tae cut-glaiss dawns The poem micht be a crannog A hinneycaimb o wattles I warp an weave Squeezin the warld aroon me oot like moss The mind sherpens its blade on a whetstane Weeted wi rain an sorra The best poem lies in the hairt o the broon bog I sink doon intae, leechin frae its veins Wird hoards that wolves hae warmed thirsels against. 2.The Thorn Buss The Brus lies in Dunfermline kirk Rowed in a claith o gowd Lord Elgin's merble at his heid A King frae tap tae shroud. Ootby, a wizzened thorn buss Leans ower an unmerked grave The lass that bore the Wall ace Lies forgotten wi the lave. The breist-milk o the mither wolf Gaed Rome its virr an pouer The seedbed 0 Scots liberty Lies hummle in thon stoor The Brus lies in Dunfermline kirk Braw kist wi braiss plate tapped The thorn buss stauns ower Freedom's dam Her heid's wi green girse happed 3. Sin Eater Fit is the taste o sin? Satty, like the sea? Is murder soor or sweet? Hoochmagandie... is't savoury? Is leein wersh or bland? Dis the sin consume the consumer? Dis it slawly ett the self Like a cancer tumour? Is't a dish best etten hett, or suppit cauld? Kent a meenister Fa said maist fowk wis damned Fa said sex wis the wark o the Deil Fa said weemin war born pure evil I'd like to makk him ett his wirds IIkie dot, slash, letter an comma till he chokit I'd like to makk him ett up ilkie sin He fabricatit Craw cheil. Fa'd think Ae heid held sae much hate? Losh be here, maun be somethin he ett Salome maun hae brocht it on a plate. 4.Salute Tae Donside: Tune: Wha Saw the 42nd Some o us war auld an fooshty Some war young an swack an strang Some war wabbit, aa war cantie Faith the Ballad Bus wis thrang! Fa saw the Braes o Coldstane Reid rowans glentin sma? Fa saw Glenbuchat's Castle Stinch o yett an strang o waa? Fa sang o Lang John More An fa sang o Rhynie's knowe Hurlin aroon Glenkindie Skelpin on fur Alford's howe? Hens marchin tae the midden Wasps bizzin roon yer heid £80,000 pun o statue Man yon's fairly best 0 breed! Fa felt the wins o Cluny By Monymusk wheech ben? Fa sang o dule an murder In a dowie Donside glen? Fa saw the braes o Kemnay Dirdin roon nerra neuks? Gweedsakes, here's Inverurie Watter rinnin doon its sheughs! Faith, noo the journey's ower! Balgownie's michty waa Bids adieu tae Don an ballad Swallaed bi the ocean's mawe! 5. Swami I like tae sprauchle Tae dauchle aboot in bauchles in the hoose Efter the trauchles o day Like a dug splayed oot in strae in the stoory byre I like tae sprauchle afore a roarin fire I canna abide a seat, perjink an neat I'd rather be horizontal, warm an dwaumy Wi a levitatin mind like an Eastern Swami Wi Chopin, mebbe, or Bach upon the pianie An that's fit's wrang wi wirk... cause there ye cannae Sprauchle like ancient Romans at a feed Like Buddha fin he steeked his een an deed. 6. Sunset Sang 99.7% 0 Mumbai's fite-backed vultures hae deed oot. Pyson, entered the food chyne. I am a Doric spikker.90% 0 ma days Gyang by in seelence, forbyes the antrin phone call Tryin tae sell me windaes, a Geordie lilt. Ma bairns grew up wi TV, English buiks Their lugs attuned tae different frequencies Hale wikks rowe by like oceans ower ma heid Afore anither whale remairks 'Fit like' On Friday, doon at the library, I felt Doric. It wis a Doric day. Nae bad y'unnerstaun, Sunny, nae ootricht birsslin. A Muslim quine Aside me surfed the net. We smiled, speechless. A Somalian student's moose gaed click-clack-click I gaed hame nursin ma spikk like it wis nae weel Wauked ben the park far bubbles burst in a puil. A plastic puddock raise as fowk applauded. 'Look at the frog' the littlins daunced an skirled I winneret, hid thon puddock heard 0 Sunset Sang? 7. The Spik 0 the Lan The clash o the kintra claik Rins aft ma lug, as rain Teems ower the glaissy gape o the windae pane. The chap o the preacher's wird Be it wise as Solomon It fooners on iron yird Brakks upon barren grun Bit the lowe o a beast new born The grieve at his wirk The blyter o brierin corn The bicker o birk The haly hush o the hill Things kent an at haun I'd harken tae that wi a will The spik o the lan. 8.Scotched As I stude in a Scottish street An breathed the Scottish air A Scottish spurgie in a tree Come jinkin frae its lair It flew ootower the Scottish hames The hooses, schule an kirk It flew abune the Scottish lawns The wids o aik an birk It flew abune the Scottish bus That I wis set tae catch Aside a queue o ither Scots A mixter maxter swatch o ither Scots fowk like masel Three Chinese engineers A Polish driver, Sikh GP Five Suffolk mountaineers Aa stude disjaskit bi the waa The rain drapped dreich an thick The doonpish tuik nae tent ava Tae makk, belief, or spikk. 9. Fit's Life? Scots owersett o a quote frae Crowfoot, a Blackfoot Indian elder, Canada Fit's life? It's the glimmer o a fireflaucht in the nicht It's the braith o a buffalo in the deid thraa o Yule It's the wee shadda that rins alang the girse An losses itsel in the gloamin 10. The Lesser Spottit Taed I am the lesser spottit taed Naebody is spottit less aften than me Naebody screives odes tae me I hinna starred in a tale bi the Brithers Grimm I am nae an essential ingredient In wart removal spell nummer 203 I am the lesser spottit taed Dae ye peety or envy me? 11.Mrs Attila the Hun It's nae ony fun bein Attila the Hun Biological warfare(the slicin aff o heids) Is a scunner on washin days I turn the coo on the spit Fur oors, while he's aft giein it laldy Repetitive strain injury Is aa the thanks I get Fur keeping his denner hett He gied me a bear’s fur three year's back Peety the bear wis in it Tuik me a month an a day Tae cure an skin it He's heavy on the bevy (Leadin a heeze o Vandals, Goths an Franks Gies personal satisfaction Bit smaa thanks) Still, as I says tae cousin Ina in Asia Minor Nae mony hubbies rule Frae the Rhine tae China. 12.Greyfriars Bobby Purchase a moose, a pig, a moggy Bit dinna buy a Greyfriars' Bobby He'lI weir ye doon. For wauks he'll bark Tae tryst wi muggers in the park. Ye try tae jet awa tae Spain He's haudin on aneth the plane Forget aboot a bidie-in He'll teir her tights. He'll bowf an rin Awa wi her new bras an pants An beery them aneth yer plants. Ye'lI hae dug hairs in soup an pudden Mair fur than flew in fechts at Flodden Sae buy a statue fur yer lobby An nae a real-life Greyfriars' Bobby Luv didna keep him near grave-stanes Na. Dugs are unca fond o banes! 13. At the Festival Here tae grip the nettle. Here tae be bumbazed, Dumfounert, affrontit, edifeed, scunnered Enthralled, transmogrified, caad aff the proverbial stot A polyglot o towrists swall the clanjamfrey 0 buskers, boskers, friskers, jugglers, dauncers Pipers, ranters, chauncers Festival stars or gypes? The hype's aywis the same They're aa the jazziest, razzmatazziest, latest Maist bobbiedazzlin act ye've ever seen or heard Embro's annual Fringe... A stammygaster o drollery o bombast, aghast, hauf mast mingin or Real Ming quality Steppin aft this merriematanzie o festival flim-flammery Ma heid's fair birlin. The North bound train is fillin Wi littlins fechtin an tcyauvin. Wi drifters an rifters Weemin giein it laldy inno their mobiles' lugs Bankers haein wee snifters.... Elbucks inno ma neb Three oors like a canned troot, in the pursuit o fun. Hamewirds: the North Sea glents like a tummlit halo, Seelence an cauldrife clouds wauchtin abeen The yowedendrift o Heiven, shot wi sun. 14. Futterat A furled drainpipe, I am liquid aff the leash, a guff o wabbit hinney. My een are twa cracked spunks, my moo's a bane trap. I dine on ferlies reeshlin ben the trees. My credo is bluid, bluid, bluid, a stounin Trinity. I unsteek arteries like sluice yetts. In my bed, the wid's necropolis, my prey maun daunce the ultimate strip-tease. 15. Cat Calypso On the green carpet, the cat skails geans an wine dauncin its hett calypso. Cleuk-yark mowser, yer deep-doon-thrapple purrs are strummin my rig-bane. Prodigal ane, I gie a pomegranate tae yer Persephone natur. Yer sixth sense keeks at me, yer ither five are stane. Yer drum-whump paws play on my need tae connect like a xylophone. Cat, I could transmogrifee ye, intae a zither, a Russian balalaika, pit zing in yer soorpuss meows. 16. Strukken Star-strukken, the keekin gless Is etched in pentagrams The strukken bell haunts the spire A singin gibbet A strukken oor in the wyme's The new born's bleat The strukken spunk Is weirin its reid toorie A strukken lochan clings tae ilkiewave it meets The strukken win whummles the dry whins tae castanets 17.The Unnertakker's Utopia Fu hospital reamin wards Aa the staff aff sick 18.Ted Hughes, the Cat Ilkie cat in the barn Regardless if male or female Is caaed Ted Hughes Wi a deefenin glower ae contermaschious Yorkshire feline poors hersel oot like booze teemed ower the sofa... Ted Hughes nummer ten She smuchters and gurrs. Her teeth are as clean as Zen The Deil gae wi her! A moody breet that aabody wints tae tame Gaun frae ane tae the ither Fickle, shameless. Truly Ted Hughes, In ilkie thing plus name. 18. The Sestina Poem They hae telt me tae write a sestina! I wid raither drink rancid retsina! Fornicate wi a goat stap a yowe doon ma throat or daunce wi a reid-neb hyena. 19.Sketches frae a Fremmit Airt The colour o dreichness on the back o a postage stamp Sna faain on bens in a kintra o the mind A pit bull dug, the sun on its snoot like lard, An auld aik table gnarled bi gollach an pen A screiver's photie shares a reflectit tree A drain pipe strainin watter inno the troch The transmogrification o parritch ooto aits A tattiebogle's heid that birls like a hoolet Stoory brickwirk sclimming rungs o air Reefs on a Pennine brae, its grey slates dreepin 20.Fower Signs o Samhuin Conkers rowe like een that hae tint their sockets The hurcheon coories inno its coat o stobs The rotten yird cracks at the neep's foun A blaikie's yalla tongue is steeped in dule 21.Samhuin The jeelin yird cracks at the neep's side Noo firelicht zips its reid hood up its face The cauld canal has swallaed its ain tail Beech trees are fickle murners, sune forget Their leaves fan knowe taps chitter in snaadrift Yird's thoosan keyholes turn tae steek life in. The clocks rin widdershins, withoot, wi'in... Haar sypes up frae the bleary knowe's blin side Here, thristledoon meets rock like time's spindrift In Heptonstall, weeds warssle tae re-face Gravestanes wi ilkie tae-haud they can get. The blackie's sang is gagged... a mummer's tale. The skreichin hoolet spreids her killjoy tail A daithly fan. Some aik tree is her inn Tae raise the stakes... a race o beaks beget. Wheen daffie bulbs lie featureless aside The rouge dry elm leaf uses tae efface Its corpse's fiteness, aince it's cut adrift There is a time tae anchor, time tae drift Each Sizzen's ritual shrivin maun entail A lettin gyang, the better tae ootface The cloor o strippin back tae hansel in Win like a scythe that pairts the reeds ootside Far fitpad tod hunts aa that she can get Foo quickly tummlit aipple fruits forget Their seedtime, bridlepath, their blossom drift Winter's a hag wi peat-bree on her face The deein wabs unraivel. Frosts deface The bricht collage o leaves. They dinna get An artist's retrospective, gaitherin in Sooked wyme-back tae the warld's derk inside. Forget the lowes o Autumn! I wid drift Inno the side of Winter, lossin face Inbye the fyauchie seggs.... A moose's tail Vanishin in the storms o smirr an hail 22. The Ee o Ra I'm a fish! A fish! Hett stuff! I'll burn yer ee oot! I'll dervish yer Catamarans! I'll birl like a base-baa cheer-quine in Chicago! Fowks o the Upper Warld, my sichts are on ye. I'll crack yer Niger egg. Napoleon, I will skewer ye like kebab. 23. Brukken Shell This shell has kent the sooch o satty tides, the fite fury o storm in its inner lug. It is Primavera, haudin her riven wyme in merble hauns. Deserts hae helter-skeltered ben its sides. It hooses neither pearls nur affirmations. It is an echo's widdendreme, a reefless labyrinth, a shattered conch no monk-cry thunners through. It tastes o semen sieved throwe coral fangs. Auld moons hae traded pouer on this Rialto. This Marie Antoinette o snaggit lace, less than the wecht o a cup, has dined wi oceans this nochtie whorl, this eeless, heidless, channel, this Sheila-na-gig that mithers seas an deeps 25. Wickerman Kent a loon aince cut the een frae a fish Gaed it back tae the sea, twa blin gills an a swish Burn wickerman burn, turn the sky tae a rose The savage sleeps lichter than ye micht suppose Kent a quine aince cut the bairn fae her wame Naebody wins in the love cheatin game Burn wickerman burn, turn the sky tae a rose The savage sleeps Iichter than ye micht suppose Kent a chiel aince pued the wings frae a flee Lauched as he watched it cowp ower tae dee Burn wickerman burn, turn the sky tae a rose The savage sleeps Iichter than ye micht suppose Kent a war aince tuik the youth frae a lan A hale generation, a storm in the san Burn wickerman burn, turn the sky tae a rose The savage sleeps lichter than ye micht suppose 26. King Canute Tune: Oh Soldier Soldier will you marry me? Oh King Canute wis a Nordic galoot Fa tried tae command the sea He thocht his croon an his ermine goun Wad boo tae the monarchy The tide cam in wi the howlin win An aabody cried, 'Are ye feel as weel as blin An aabody cried 'Are ye feel as weel as blin Ye invite calamity! ' Noo Bush an Blair wad hae ye think they care That the polar ice will melt As Tsunamis brakk like sticks on Asia's back Warld peace fur ile is selt The tide cam in wi the howlin win An aabody cried, 'Are ye feel as weel as blin An aabody cried 'Are ye feel as weel as blin It's plain fit haun 's bin dealt! There's acid rain, an Chernobyl's pain There is BSE an Sars Green forests faa tae the detriment o aa Mids the stoor o holy wars The tide cam in wi the howlin win An aabody cried, 'Are ye feel as weel as blin An aabody cried 'Are ye feel as weel as blin Earth carina thole mair scars! In a Bangkok street ilkie secunt sowel ye meet Weirs a mask tae purifee The wee sup air that is ciculatin there Car emissions putrifee The tide cam in wi the howlin win An aabody cried, 'Are ye feel as weel as blin An aabody cried 'Are ye feel as weel as blin Fit price is democracy? Oh the tide has turned wi pollution it is churned We maun save oor beach or dee Unlike Canute or there's very little doot We'll hae nae posterity The tide cam in wi the howlin win All aabody cried, ~re ye feel as weel as blin An aabody cried 'Are ye feel as weel as blin It's plain fit the end will be! ' 27.A Pairty fur Ane Tune: Bonnie George Campbell Chasin the dragon ower mony ye see Mansion an high-rise, suburbia tee Laddies oot chorin an quines on the game Aa tae buy gear fur a pairty o ane Hard bi the cash pynt they beg on the street 'Gies some cheenge missus' tae aabody they meet Ony auld story... the eynd's ay the same Heich upon smack at a pairty fur ane Far is thon paradise druggies gyang tae? Fit is the entry price fate gars them pay? Dealers fur profit sell pyson an shame Tae a young Scottish junkie, at pairty fur ane Chasin the dragon, ower many ye see Mansion an high rise, suburbia tee Suner or later they're ash in his flame Daith hauds the door at the pairty fur ane 28. Setterday Nicht Fergus stude in an airport luikin hashed Atwixt an atween twa continents, striddlin the Yird Strang an fite like a caunle warm at the core A dram o fusky mellow at his thrapple Connie watched show efter show on the flickerin screen Deid tae the warld. Cauld flesh an starin een Connor gaed tae the circus. The biggest clown in the tent. Dougal roared up the road on his motor bike Eager tae lowse his hett quine frae her frock On fifty thoosan hooses ahin the knowe The rain poored doon a hale wikk's cauld libation A glancin wheel played fit-baa wi a brock