Norlan Lichts

Norlan Lichts 1.Widdendreme o an Ashet Yestreen I dreamt ma ashet Hostit a resurrection Ma grilled lamb shank raise up Wi a ghaistly baa Briered skin, oo, hoof An hirplit ower the brod The roastit bubblyjock Heidless, strode ooto the granishins Said cheerbye tae the gravy, tatties, stuffin, Brussel sproots Its feather re-happit its wyme. Wingless, cleukless, it rowed aff back tae the kitchie Luikin fur tint intimmers, een, beak, wattles The hale kiboodle Frae the founs o the soup pan, the grumphie's hoch Steppt ooto ingins, lentils, carrots, pizzers, neeps The bree frae its ain sappy maet Its hide grew back again on its haggard hurdies Rumba-ed ower tae the oven Tae the tune frae La Boheme The fried steak hotterin in mushies Moo-ed as its leathery rump Sliddered ontae the fleer I waukened jist as the sushi Stertit tae stink like rotten fooshty dulse Scales like sequins skinklin in the bowl Erasure/ black out poetry is a form created by erasing words from an existing text in prose or verse.The following poem, Eildritch, is drawn out of the short story Thrawn Janet, by Robert Louis Stevenson. 2.Eildritch in a peatbog, in the neuk o a plaid. mummlin tae hersel in the gloamin, sib tae the deil, in the hettest o the collieshangie, the name o God cam niver on her lips. in muckle hell that day. in the bield o the black Hill, seiven corbie craws flew roond and roond abuin the auld kirkyaird. near the burn. deep and black She's a bogle in claycauld flesh. No a starn, no a breith o wind A tyke yowlin up the muir, A laich, uncanny steer An the dule watter seepin and sabbin Doun the glen The sauchs tosst and maned thegither, a clap o wind, like a cat's fuff; the sauchs screicht like fowk skelloch upon skelloch in a peatbog, in the neuk o a plaid. mummlin tae hersel in the gloamin, sib tae the deil Golden shovel poetry is a poetic form that takes a word from each line of an existing poem and uses them as the last word of each line in a new poem. The golden shovel form incorporates elements of both erasure and cento poems. Ye browster wives, now busk ye braw, And fling your sorrows far awa; Then come and gie's the tither blaw Of reaming ale, Mair precious than the well of Spa, Our hearts to heal.: From The Daft Days, by Robert Fergusson 3. Pannanich Wells, Ballater The birks abune the braes rise braw The erne flees up an soars awa The caller bosky breezes blaw Springs taste like ale Drawn ooto Pannanich's rich Spa Sair banes made hale Knichts Templar in twal forty five Suppit thon watters tae revive An eftir, vowed they aa did thrive Wi virr like steel The tonic springs could yark alive Sair sowels richt weel A local wife wi scrofula In sivventeen saxty, did doonfaa Intae the bog, an sained o aa Her skaiths did rise Cured o King' Evil bi the Spa Miracle prize! Syne Farquharson, Laird o Monaltrie Biggit an Inn fur aa an sundry Tae takk the cure, a fortiori Twid dae them gweed For his belief, tho a priori Wis strang indeed Fowk wi rheumaticks, bairns wi rickets Frae baronets tae puir on budgets Lord Byron, Walter Scott their assets Wir keen tae share Wi thon spa risin frae the thickets Throw Deeside's air Doon throwe the years, this magic airt Its birks, its rowans, played their pairt In bringin balm tae hurtit hairt An thochties wae As noo roon sides o tent an yurt Wins saftsome play 4. The Midden Inspired by a poem written & performed at Stanza by Larry Butler & Ratnadeva Ma harns are a midden, a steer o the orra an clarty, The harrigals o days, the intimmers o aff cast thochts Aathin hotters aawaa thegither like a soss in the midden Fermentin like the sypins o dwaums Mebbe ooto the sharn o dubby times A poem'll raxx its heid, like a wee daff ooto the orrals? 5.The Birdie For a photo of a garden visitor by Catriona Low A birdie teetin roon a buss O thorns, keeked oot wi berry een As if tae say, 'Fit like yersel? ' And as I bide in Aiberdeen He addit 'Foos yer doos the day? Aye peckin? ' I'd tae answer 'Na Oor cat chaws up oor feathery friens Gin ye'd keep cheepin, flee awa! ' 6. Puir Man's Jam Ma da made puir man's jam Better than fish paste Better than gozzers Better than fatty spam He spreid his breid wi a skelp o marg Razzed ower fur the sugar jar Skirpit it ower the marg an syne O sannies it is the star! 7. Monthlies In Cantonese, women describe the time of menstruation, as ‘my great aunt has come to visit ‘Yi ma lai doh'. In some Deeside areas, women say ‘Granny's come doon frae the hills'. Cramps grip the pit o yer wyme Like rakes, rippin seggs frae the sheuch Muscles knot like the belly cloor That aixed Harry Houdini The monthlies could drap me tae ma knees Bring on the hett baths, asprins, hett watter bottle Ticht in the foetal position Aince, in a Darlington job centre I feintit wi the pain, Hittin the fleer wi a dunt Waukenin up in emergency Seein a bricht an smiley doctor Weirin a kipper tie Fa suggestit ‘a scrape' As if the wyme wis a saucepan In need of scoorin ‘Or childbirth' he cairried on, ‘wid swacken things up doon ablow' As God set it oot in Eden I'll sherply increase yer pain fin giein birth In pain ye'll bring furth bairns Cursed is the grun because o ye Ay weel, thanks fur thon The short eyn o the stick 8. Hunt the Gowk Day,2021 April fools day was traditionally called Hunt the Gowk Day in Scotland The name comes from the saying 'Hunt the Gowk' which translates from Scots as 'hunt for the cuckoo' or 'foolish person'. In Gaelic the alternative translation would be 'La na Gocaireachd' which means 'gowking day' or La Ruith na Cuthaige which means 'the day of running the cuckoo'.The traditional joke consisted of asking someone to deliver a sealed message that seeks help. The message in the letter reads 'Dinna lauch, dinna smile. Hunt the gowk anither mile' Hunt the Gowk Day in the Duthie Park Like a day oot at Crufts, the girse is heezin wi tykes Dorgies, Aluskies, Pomskies Bogles, Cheagles, Pitskies Pugglies, Gollies an Chuggs Schnoodles, Whoodles & Bugga Ruggin their ainers aroon frae trees tae dowps Heinz 57 variety o dugs Wi their mongrel keepers Bruisers, tattooed wi dirks an snakes an hairts Auld weemen wi rotten teeth that guff like farts Littlins wummle like penguins on shoogly shanks Hippins, hingin wi pee Like boozers efter a skinfu, hauf sweejee Paunchy plodders traipse ahin clarty buggies Beer bellied cheils, in bunnets wi furry luggies Sonsie quines in lycra an leggins that cling Knock-kneed, pirn taed, fat hoched, Their fingers aa covered in bling Ravers an elderly hippies an misbehavers The queue creeps on like a snail Fur lattes, ice cream an sannies Grannies an bairns wi mous that full up wi slavers Some hap their faces, tae stop the covid smittin Ithers staun closer than stitches in auld wives knittin It's Hunt the Gowk Day, pliskies gae on fur oors See the dugs pee on the signs, sayin watch the flooers 9. Shakkin the snaa globe in ma harns Inspired by Life from Inside a Fenway Park Snow Globe, by Cameron Wilson (Poetry Scotland) It is bairnhood, I'm plunkt on the san tae play Spindift on driftwidd surfs ontae the beach I am weirin a gyad-sake dress o polka dots I niver maistered ma mandolin Like gowdfish in a bowl, its chords repeat I could bide in a librar wi buiks fur friens Blythe's a kittlin cercled bi butterflees Fit price a kiss? As deidly as a wirm That slidders like disappyntment intae the yird Bang! Yer aff! Life's cannon has bin fired Oot o the antechaumer o skweel an parent time The loch o kennin growes. Is thon yoke a bomb? I hae as mony fauts as a cabbage, pykit bi snails A coffee brod sits stinch, an unhaley altar The lamb o conversation awyte the knife I should be wyed in the scales o wirth An cam up wintin Ma corps's as stiff as an auld linoleum cutter Ma lips are icicles on the coffee mug rim Divergent thocht's the curse o ma bawd wud harns Dae alligators really bide in stanks Choking the unnergrun arteries o toons? Nesty as roadblocks, or is thon aa styte? The hurtit ocean skreichs like a roosty fridge A brukken dallie floats in a froth o scum In the gairden a Jenny wren wyves a wattergaw An ongaun myndin o guilt tae the wytin Tom Nae character witness clears him o birdie slauchter I kent a chiel kept a pet gun as a keepsake He ett wid garlic, bit didna believe in feys His claesline wis pegged wi TA camouflage dress Since fan did a letterbox becam a chute fur spam? Grinnin geriatrics promotin wills An landscape gairdenin centres sellin gnomes? The ile walls hae stoppit gushin oot at sea Chiels in weet suits are aa wippit up in plastic 10.Hooses Flichterin oot an in their wee roon door Like fish lowpin in throwe a porthole, Birdies enter their bird box The intimmer is derk an secret Safe frae the cleuks o cats. Smaa baas o feathers Showd on the tree like fir cones Licht as fluff Their wings raxx wide as fans Fin they ride on the back o the wins Their gorblies coorie doon In their mossy nest In Thailand, speerit hooses Hae unseen tenants Inveesible ancestiors wheech oot an inno Their open yett Their pagoda reefed biggin Incense sweeten their days Flooers, maet an prayers Ghaists are the anecestors Fas fitsteps we step inno 11.Geographic Tongue Between 1-2% of the population have a geographic tongue. Typically there are red patches on the surface of the tongue with an irregular outline that make the tongue look as if a map has been drawn on it, hence the name ‘geographic tongue'. In most cases the red areas are surrounded by a white border. Fin I wis wee, I sooked in Doric wi ma reg'lar bottle o milk Ma geographic tongue Pyntit North East, the Northern hemisphere Same latitude as Aalborg, Denmark Varberg in Sweden Ma tongue didnae fork like a snake's Till I stertit the skweel Frae thon day on Ilkie wird hid a doppelgänger An evil twin. Fin Daith cams, as He will, I winner fit he'll say? Fin he wags his finger Beckonin me tae the void Will he invite me in Inglis or Doric Tae takk ma place wi ma deid Tae lay ma heid upon ma yirdy bowster? Till then, I'll bide true tae ma tongue Keepin ma compass steady, Bidin seelent. 12. Judgement o the Bandies The day wis sticky wi sun Paiddlin in shalla puils Cweets wore bangles o watter Boaties o waves cairriet cargoes o gowd Ferryin glents an glimmers Doon the simmer river The foreneen hottered wi heat Aiks stude swytin in sarks o wrinkled barks A troot kerplunkit up Like a weety comma stottin aff a trampoline Skirt stappit in knicker elastic I wis a heron, the jar in ma haun, its bill Drapt like a lichtenin stob Tae the fleggit shoals o bandies I rypin the fishies' nursery o a littlin Pebbles malagaroozed the soles o ma feet Ma hairt explodit in triumph Ower the teenie captive catched in the cloudy jar Blytheness soored neist mornin Fin, like a bonnie flooer crined Wi ae night's frost Ma bonnie bandie floatit, stiff an deid. It wis a cowpit coracle Teemed o the swackness o life 13. Exercise from the Oulipo movement, using the Lipogram method. The Lipogram method involves excluding a consonant or a vowel from an entire work of writing. In the following poems only one vowel is allowed DNA DNA, ma daddy's plasma Data o ma clan, ma pa's Alpha da, ach ah can mynd Pass't on asthma, a back-caa Feeders Ten wee cheepers, help themsels Beech seeds feed teem belly needs Screech, precedes sweet cheepers' creep Squeeze red berry greedy feeds Birds Fin ilky twig sits big wi bird Ilk wing is kingly flittrin Bills singin, pipin, chirpin, fill Licht wins wi bricht trills twittrin Zippin in ivy, sikkin wirms Hidin ilk bird's trig biggin Jocky Jocky, boozy, jowly Ooto foxy shorts Yo ho ho, bocht spotty Socks Tom Ford oo vrocht Scruffy Ugly scruffy puppy Grubs up fuzzy junk Dubs, fugs, bugs, bum-slurry Wruch wurly wurry lump 14. The Corpse Critiques the Kistin It wis my siller, bit ye canna takk it wi ye Ooto my pooch an inno the unnertakkers Masel, I'd raither they treatit the bairns Tae a wheech roon Paris Disney Bit I'd nae say in maitters post mortem The dirt some fowk cam oot wi at the viewin: ‘He's affa like himsel.' ‘He disnae luik weel' ‘ The unnertakker's pit on ower much makeup He luiks like Dame Edna Everage in thon rouge' ‘D'ye think so? Na, I think it's jist the booze' I canna say I warmed tae their choice o kist A glorifeed wheelie bin vrocht like a coffin Bit the crematoria tips the bodies oot Like the waste bins dae intae the rubbish dumps Frae bin tae fire, ye ken, syne a wee skoosh It wis ready tae recycle, afore I gaed up the lum The kirk service? I niver likit thon langamachies Meenisters raxxin oot ae wee thocht fur an oor Bit fitiver floats yer boat. I wisnae best suited Tae see some fowk at the do I cudnae thole Eneuch tae turn yer stammache some o thon chauncers Fa's idea wis it that mourners should cam in fancy dress? If I wisnae deid I'd hae cowked fin Scooby Doo, Elvis, Captain Hook, Reid Ridin Hood, an Humpty Dumpty Turned up. The funeral director was dressed as a ghaist I thocht thon wis in gey puir taste Flooers? Ae faimly wreath wi a Scottish twist At least it wisnae plastic.They got thon richt. Bit heavy metal frae Iron Maiden fur Music? Plugs fur lugs should hae bin haundit oot tae aa Haein the funeral tea at McDonald's wis inspired Drive throwe, because o Covid. Better than salmon paste sannies an a scone An syne, the hinnereyn. Aisse, tae be poored Oot intae the herbour, frae a plastic joog. Ae pluffert o win blew me richt back ower their faces Lauch? I nearly deed! 15. Hatches, Matches, Dispatches Ilkie day, I buy the local papers Charity blethers, weather, council maitters Domestic stooshies, druggie daiths, I read the sklaik; the doon an oots, the chorers The reader's letters, ingle neuk debators Ilkie day, the crosswird swackens ma harns Fits in ma starns. Photies whyles frae the past Arson in hooses an barns An at the hinnereyn, obituaries. I am noo ane o that breed O baby boomers, at the heid o the queue Ready tae jyne the deid I scan the nemmes fur neebors, kinsmen, Fowk that I hae kent. A twa three lines Mynd me on transience Whyles, I supply fit's missed atween the lines Wis she a bosker, blawin bubbles at bairns' pairties? Wis he an auld fart frae birth, a human fossil? Wis she aywis contermaschious, the office smerty? Wis her life a colour slide show, aywis static Wis his, like a moose in hole Better be quaet an borin than dramatic! At the hinnereyn, the obituaries, twa days on Are the morn's chip paper Frae seed tae flooer tae aisse Corruptions's in oor natur