The Kintyre Forum Poem ( First line)

[ionnsaigh]

A hid a dug - a big dug tae
it never hid a tail
a fun hur oan the road - wan night
scratchin fae heid - tae toe
big sad eyes - a called hur
a name that truly fits
fae a dug - fun in the Gallowgate
wae flea - lice an nits.

[ionnsaigh]

This freedom land - free behold
a freedom bought - by coin and gold
pound power - punches through
capital gains - stockbroker stew
big bank buying -bubble burst
market mayhem - murder lust.

[Govangirl]

I know it's long but we need to include it tonight

Halloween
by Robert Burns

Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the cove, to stray and rove,
Among the rocks and streams
To sport that night.

Among the bonny winding banks,
Where Doon rins, wimplin' clear,
Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,
And shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, country-folks,
Together did convene,
To burn their nits, and pou their stocks,
And haud their Halloween
Fu' blithe that night.

The lasses feat, and cleanly neat,
Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blithe, fu' sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, and warm, and kin';
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, and some wi' gabs,
Gar lasses' hearts gang startin'
Whiles fast at night.

Then, first and foremost, through the kail,
Their stocks maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, and graip and wale,
For muckle anes and straught anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,
And wander'd through the bow-kail,
And pou't, for want o' better shift,
A runt was like a sow-tail,
Sae bow't that night.

Then, staught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar and cry a' throu'ther;
The very wee things, todlin', rin,
Wi' stocks out owre their shouther;
And gif the custoc's sweet or sour.
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne cozily, aboon the door,
Wi cannie care, they've placed them
To lie that night.

The lasses staw frae 'mang them a'
To pou their stalks of corn:
But Rab slips out, and jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard and fast;
Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
When kitlin' in the fause-house
Wi' him that night.

The auld guidwife's well-hoordit nits,
Are round and round divided,
And monie lads' and lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle coothie, side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa wi' tentie ee;
Wha 'twas she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, and this is me,
She says in to hersel:
He bleezed owre her, and she owre him,
As they wad never mair part;
Till, fuff! he started up the lum,
And Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
And Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compared to Willie;
Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling,
And her ain fit it brunt it;
While Willie lap, and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.

Nell had the fause-house in her min',
She pits hersel and Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin';
Nell's heart was dancin' at the view,
She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stowlins, prie'd her bonny mou',
Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,
Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashin' at their cracks,
And slips out by hersel:
She through the yard the nearest taks,
And to the kiln goes then,
And darklins graipit for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue throws then,
Right fear't that night.

And aye she win't, and aye she swat,
I wat she made nae jaukin',
Till something held within the pat,
Guid Lord! but she was quakin'!
But whether 'was the deil himsel,
Or whether 'twas a bauk-en',
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
She didna wait on talkin'
To spier that night.

Wee Jennie to her grannie says,
"Will ye go wi' me, grannie?
I'll eat the apple at the glass
I gat frae Uncle Johnnie:"
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
In wrath she was sae vap'rin',
She notice't na, an aizle brunt
Her braw new worset apron
Out through that night.

"Ye little skelpie-limmer's face!
I daur you try sic sportin',
As seek the foul thief ony place,
For him to spae your fortune.
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
Great cause ye hae to fear it;
For mony a ane has gotten a fright,
And lived and died deleeret
On sic a night.

"Ae hairst afore the Sherramoor, --
I mind't as weel's yestreen,
I was a gilpey then, I'm sure
I wasna past fifteen;
The simmer had been cauld and wat,
And stuff was unco green;
And aye a rantin' kirn we gat,
And just on Halloween
It fell that night.

"Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
A clever sturdy fallow:
His son gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
That lived in Achmacalla:
He gat hemp-seed, I mind it weel,
And he made unco light o't;
But mony a day was by himsel,
He was sae sairly frighted
That very night."

Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck,
And he swore by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
For it was a' but nonsense.
The auld guidman raught down the pock,
And out a hanfu' gied him;
Syne bade him slip frae 'mang the folk,
Some time when nae ane see'd him,
And try't that night.

He marches through amang the stacks,
Though he was something sturtin;
The graip he for a harrow taks.
And haurls it at his curpin;
And every now and then he says,
"Hemp-seed, I saw thee,
And her that is to be my lass,
Come after me, and draw thee
As fast this night."

He whistled up Lord Lennox' march
To keep his courage cheery;
Although his hair began to arch,
He was say fley'd and eerie:
Till presently he hears a squeak,
And then a grane and gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
And tumbled wi' a wintle
Out-owre that night.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu' desperation!
And young and auld came runnin' out
To hear the sad narration;
He swore 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till, stop! she trotted through them
And wha was it but grumphie
Asteer that night!

Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen,
To win three wechts o' naething;
But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,
And two red-cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That very nicht.

She turns the key wi cannie thraw,
And owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca'
Syne bauldly in she enters:
A ratton rattled up the wa',
And she cried, Lord, preserve her!
And ran through midden-hole and a',
And pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
Fu' fast that night;

They hoy't out Will wi' sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddom'd thrice
Was timmer-propt for thrawin';
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,
For some black grousome carlin;
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke,
Till skin in blypes cam haurlin'
Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
As canty as a kittlin;
But, och! that night amang the shaws,
She got a fearfu' settlin'!
She through the whins, and by the cairn,
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three lairds' lands met at a burn
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.

Among the brackens, on the brae,
Between her and the moon,
The deil, or else an outler quey,
Gat up and gae a croon:
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool!
Near lav'rock-height she jumpit;
but mist a fit, and in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,
Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three are ranged,
And every time great care is ta'en',
To see them duly changed:
Auld Uncle John, wha wedlock joys
Sin' Mar's year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
He heaved them on the fire
In wrath that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
I wat they didna weary;
And unco tales, and funny jokes,
Their sports were cheap and cheery;
Till butter'd so'ns, wi' fragrant lunt,
Set a' their gabs a-steerin';
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
They parted aff careerin'
Fu' blythe that nigh

[ionnsaigh]

The mask slips momentarily
starkly revealing - all hells horrors
as they clash head-on in contradiction
simmering evil below - pants prepares to surface

The smell of fresh pine pours out
trapped for a thousand year - through the scratch escaping
escaping the lacquered veneer
spirit of the forest flies - amongst the deep green bracken

That fine crystallised covering
born in dead of night - dies in mornings glory
and the coming of the light
a black bird waits on branch above
marvels as the ice gives birth - to the clear pure water.

[ionnsaigh]

Thud turned - a steady beat now
one that stirs the heart - ignites - inflames auld passions
come up now - via the bruised and battered belly
thud thud thud - firing through my veins
precious stuff this stuff - the stuff that's made of saints
pumping pumping pumping
pumping through my veins
flutes twelve in all - followed by the weans
ma dae he was a martyr - a miss him every day
pipes drums and flutes - rows of marching men
following brave women - the women of the glen
star and plough - orange green and blue
thud thud marching column - marching two by two
silence descends - they stand outside his door
saluting their young hero -a working class shrunken saviour
on a fast that led to slow slow death.

[ionnsaigh]

Brum brum brum - the seconds tick down
sitting poised to push - cosmonaut like
oil petrol rubber - brakes burning
the countdown tick tock tick tock
red turns green - all hell breaks out
a fourth placed winner - lifts the crown.

[ionnsaigh]

Remembering that time in Africa
home sweet home
work play and free to roam
cattle goats tended - a shepherd boy
that time in Africa - home sweet home
that time they came - with blade an gun
herded us up iron an chain
never to set sight on home again
the ship was dark - deep in belly
men cruel - a foreign tongue
mama stopped living - nine days out
splash splash splash - three set free

You have come along way since those - dark days
lets see if your made of the sterner stuff
made that night in the African scrub
bend down now - give me your ear
listen to the voice of the poor
see my iron feel my chain
skinny black kid - with the funny name.

[ionnsaigh]

What real difference - other than ignorant fear - between black and white
genetics evolved - to adapt adjust acquaint acquire
in sun baked desert - to the frozen Arctic waste
conditions prerequisite - hammers the change - that gives rise to diverse species
all life strives struggles searches - gasps for air - or whatever the particular requirement
if part of mans need - that need to be recognised - that respect - for life itself
how dignified to call the dog - dog
how undignified to call the wolf - dog
that spade is a spade - no spin no sin
psychologically one can overcome colour - however difficult for some
the redistribution of wealth - has a practical - hands on methodology
at it's immediate disposal - mathematically six divided by three equals two
not one with three - nor three with one - but two with two - and one with two.

[ionnsaigh]

Time caught between - the night and dawn
night time revellers - the old fox makes for home
that first bird chorus greets - the last or first bus
undecided to say goodnight - or cry morning
a time to take stock - stocky stock stock

This sweat I feel - from head to toe
made in the land of dreams
a leftover to this living land
poor quality tenner's - my pockets bulge
attempting to spend - I did indulge

In the pub - a suspicious crew
that man at the bus stop
a copy of Militant in his hand
me firmly held in the other
shouts loudly - a citizens arrest

Another coffee - black an bitter
helps remove the last few dredges
becoming braver - bolder by the minute
tick tick tock - tick tock tick - along the road
a shivering sweating - cheap sulking coward.

[four eyes]

wtf

[ionnsaigh]

wtf

The odd snipe.

" If we don't believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all "

Noam Chomsky.

[ionnsaigh]

Happy birthday Mick
fifty six years
tick tick tick.

[ionnsaigh]

The stone cracked
snap - along that fault line
the auld energy - spits out
travels through - cold night air
echoes - crack snap - behind
slabs of bonded agate
shelter wee birds - from South West wind
flames flicker catching the tops
white frothy - this savage sea
smashes - smothers fine grain sand
gushes back to where both meet
for what was dry - now turned wet
and what was wet - now turns dry.

[Govangirl]

Happy belated birthday, Pal, I missed it here last time
Trying to miss your poems and the words with funny rhyme
Did you get some money? Perhaps I could suggest
That a poetry book might be the thing in which you could invest?
P'haps pick up a tip or two, or with yourself get tougher,
'Cos it ain't fair how all of us are always left to suffer!

Happy Birthday!

[ionnsaigh]

A two litre bottle of Barrs Irn Bru
washes doon - asda vegetable stew
a hauf ounce a hash - fur me an the dug
that Jeremy Kyle - he's nae mug
sided wae Fiona - against me an the dug
me in Tyson - we get oan fine
oot in the mornin - tae buy mae wine
nae fancy books fur the likes of me
a wee joint - an morning tv
a power nap in the efternin
hoover oot - before she comes in
a mans life - the life for me
Jeremy Kyle - the dug an me.