Absences: (30 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.Heistin the Deid
In 2007 archaeologists in Oseberg, southern Norway dug up a Viking queen, thought to be called Asa, after 1,200 years

In peetiless rain, in Oseberg, suddron Norwye
Fower chiels heist a queen frae the weet yird
Her daith-ship, a Vikin langboat, gaen afore here
Recaad frae Valhalla, berthed in a museum

Nae ethical objections war upgien
Nae spik o sacrilege, o desecration
Nae leevin body could pruve a kin-connection
They hae rived her like elk meat
Frae the ice wyme o her seelence, reivin a stane
Frae a cairn o anither age, a thing taboo.

A queen fa's warriors' weapons rikkit bluid
They will be closer tae thon Queen than her ain man
Their eident knives will scratt her royal breist
Unshakkable, they'll ding doon her defences
Ettlin to heist the lid o the Past's kist.


2.Briq o Balqownie, Autumn

The saftsome simmer meenits tick awa
Unseen, a crooshie croodles in the wid
Nearhaun's the rocher craikin o a craa

The sycamore sproots wings, its seedlins faa
Abune the brig, the sun's bi rainclouds hid
Day's caunle smuchters fin nicht breezes blaa

The sleekit rabbit, gairdener's carrots chaa
A kittlin steeks its ee like a closed lid
Blae Autumn's breathin frost-haar frae its mawe


3.Coo Chaumer, Callander: for Sally & Ian King

Some hames are biggt wi studios combined
Ithers boast patios fur the refined
A coo-chaumer's in ane. I wis non-plussed

Tae see its boundaries bonnily aligned
Wi the back yett, an nae tae be consigned
Tae derk, had a coo-windae (comfort, sussed)

Mornin, the bovine guest stepped oot tae find
Its path tae lea-lan, bricht cooslips entwined
A tasty diet, as wis richt an just

Nae stinkin byre. In chynes, niver confined
Nae fooshty neeps, on sweet hill girse she dined
In human hospitality her craitur- trust

Wisnae unfounded. Hame at nicht she'd wind
Fan clachan hoosebodies puued doon each blind
lntae her chaumer, saft strae bed untrussed.

Ilk hoose should hae sic chaumers, tae remind
The ainer o an age much less defined
Bi categories o care, fan corn and flooer
War ae short braith awa frae human stoor.


4.A Lea wi Flooers Owersett in Scots o pairt o a letter frae Van Gogh tae Theo, his brither,12/5/1888

A lea fu o bricht yalla buttercups
A sheugh fu o irises...green leaves an purple flooers
Hyne awa...the toun, twa sauchs
Straik o blue in the lift...a Japan dwaum


5.Rembrandt: The first Heretic in Art Owersett in Scots o a poem by Andries Perls in 1681

Fin Rembrandt socht tae peint a nyakkit quine
Nae Grecian Venus wis his model syne
A skiffie, or peat-tramper frae a shed
His gangrel fit set aff far Natur led

An aa the lave, vain gee-gaws. Hingin paps
Hauns wrunklit, even the merk o corset's wraps
Aroon the stammach, garters roon the shanks
Aa maun be richt, or Natur gaed nae thanks.


6.It Niver Rains: for Catriona Low

Sez the man tae his wife fin she bladdit the quiche
As she drappit her porcelain dishes
`It's a peety oor guests maun ett tattles an pynt
Faith it niver rains bit it pishes.'

A Hollywid starlet in satin an silk
Daunced on stage in a fleerish o swishes
Ping gaed her elastic, an plunk gaed the zip
Faith it niver rains bit it pishes.

Sez the cauf tae the coo wi mastitis an hives
As their herdsman he hubbers an hishes
Them intae the killin hoose, staunin afore
`Faith it niver rains bit it pishes! '


7.Suntv's cancelled After the painting'The Feast of St. Nicholas', by Jan Steen.

Stop yer greetin Peter! I've telt ye...haud yer wheesht!
St Nicholas leaves naethin fur coorse loons at his feast!

See yer sister Anna? Niver gies a myowt!
Noo, she'll get a dallie. Aa ye'll get's a plowt!

Dinna gies yer girnin! Uncle Hans is cauld
Since ye cad his hat aff in the auld canal!

Fa tuik grunny's worsit an tied her tae her cheer?
Are ye getting somethin? Peter, dinna speir!


8. The Ne'er dae weels After the painting 'The Merry Family', by Jan Steen 'As the old sing, so pipe the young'... Dutch proverb

The faither's fu on port an beer
Littlins sook on the can
The uncle's rikkin a baccy pipe
Frae the bairnie grows the man

The ma's a slorrach, the table's fool
The denner's cowped on the grun
The littlin's breid's in its clorty neive
Aa eyns as it's first begun

A burglar teets in the chaumer mids
The scunnerin soss tae see
There's unpyed bills on the waa ahin
An a windae left ajee

The littlin cowks ower his yirdy claes
That naebody stops tae dicht
Fur there's nane sae blin as canna see
Fit the feckless need's Mair Licht!


9.Tattie Diaspora

There aince wis a tattie sae cakit
That naeb'dy in Buchan wad bake it
Twis sair needin a wash
An ower wizzent tae mash
An twis statit thon tattie wis glekit.

Fin fowk cheenged their meat tae chapatti
Wi beef an a fine mug o latte
He flew ower the sea,
Noo he's happy's can be
An he's learnin tae spikk Gujarati.


10. The Dauncin Cat After the painting 'The Dancing Lesson', by Jan Steen

Did ye hear o the loons wi the dauncin cat?
Haudin her front paas up in the air?
Wi a dug nearhaun that she'd like tae scrat
Barin its teeth on the kitchie flair?

Sleep licht, laddies, the cat'll mynd
Coorse like ploys that ye played the nicht
Sleep licht, laddies, the meen micht bring
A cat wi cleuks that'll grip ye ticht!


11.The Reid Stocking After the painting 'Woman at her Toilet' by Jan Steen(1626-1679) To wear the red stocking was the mark of a whore

Her chunty is hauf-fu, like lemon tea
The tyke's rowed on her bowster like a feather
She peels aff ae reid stockin, like a skin
Her safties kicked aff, teem, o moleskin leather

The day she's hid eneuch o needy cheils
Skippers an porters drap their anchor here
It clears the bills. Nae frills, nae pots o peint
Jist swyty sheets, tae pye her rent, her beer.


12.Sugar n' Spice

Gable eyns o blaik an cream gyang by
The Kalopeira's hull is fu o leaves
Flichterin in like starnies, yalla, broon
Doon frae the canopy o archin trees

Aathin's fur sale. A faimily see the sichts
UnDutchables leer at sex shoppie sleaze
Their dother's steppit frae a Vermeer scene
As halesome's aipple pie an Edam cheese.


13.In Praise o Offal

In Greece smaa intestines are roastit
In Turkey, they're brunt on a spit
Macedonians hotter their tripe in a soup
The haggis in Scotia's a hit.

Goat's udder an hams are twa Pakistan treats
In Sic'ly, they sandwich a spleen
Brazilians ett gizzards an chaw cuddies' tails
In Cheena, pig-bluid bree is taen.

The Japanee gollup a fish ee or twa
Grilled intestines, Korea delichts
In England, it's faggots, soo's trotters and brawn
Tongue, kidney, hairt, liver an lichts

Sae here's tae the offal o fish, fowl an breet
Goat's baas an blaik pudden weel bled
The puir man's comestibles, wirkin cheil's meat
Bi sic offal is poverty fed.


14.Journey in the Faa: Tune: Muckle Friday Fair

September is a cheengefu month, fin birdies shakk their wings
The ivy turns frae jade tae wine, aroon the waas o King's
The rodden berries crine an faa like draps o Simmer's bluid
The Jenny Wren is nippt wi frost as growth returns tae seed

The Feuch cowps ower aneth the brig as fite's a winter bride
An brave the salmon lowps the linn tae climm the watter's side
Its jizzen birthplace reels it in, the bed far it wis born
This is the sizzen o the craa, the dooncut o the corn

Heich Clochnaben an Cairn o Mount hae tint their purple sheen
The flooers aroon the Clatterin Brig are wizzent, blawn an dane
At Fettercairn the birks doonby the kirk are tipped wi gowd
Ae hauf o Heiven's saft an blue, the tither weirs a shroud

Abune Drumtochty's castle waa, the buzzard wheels an soars
The congregation o the kirk's the blaik grouse at its doors
At Auchenblae the tractor leads the scurries skreichin band
Its plooshare scoors the clorty clay o Burns's faitherland

Arbuthnott's parks are ryped o grain, the barley rigs are bare
The anely fitfa on the lea's the antrin yowe or hare
The hairst is by, the aipple's preed, the hinney's in the jar
The turnin wheel can rest awhile alang wi park an glaur

September is a cheengefu month, fin birdies shakk their wings
The ivy turns frae jade tae wine, aroon the waas o King's
The rodden berries crine an faa like draps o Simmer's bluid
The leverick's breast is nippt wi frost as growth returns tae seed


15.The Skatin Meenister After the painting 'The Rev Robert Walker' painted by Sir Henry Raeburn

Like a yak steppin ower a heich Mongolian pass
The Rev Robert Walker takks winter cannie
Transported tae puritanical ecstasies
Bi frozen watter.

He is upricht an unsupportit
Hauf wye atween a heron an a flech
Hauf wye atween the kirk an Duddingston Loch

The trick's in luikin forrit Birlin aroon thin ice
This handseller o hairses, fonts an rings
Dichts Isaiah's chapters frae his mind
Expressin jubilation throwe his skates


16. The Ballad of Earl John Middleton Tune: as I walked out on a May mornin

In saxteen twinty there wis born, near the toun o Fettercairn,
Tae a bonnet laird an his gentle wife a black-haired sodjer bairn

Chorus
Oh the gangrel Earl wis a fechtin carl
The gangrel Earl wis a general o,
the gangrel Earl

A halflin loon he served in France as a pikeman mercenary
Syne hame, tae sign the covenant, an fecht at the Brig o Dee

At the early age o twintyfower, a Colonel he becam
In the airmy o the Ironsides, young John wis a Cromwell man

At Philiphaugh he trounced Montrose, fa'd brunt his faither's haa
An fur the murder o his sire, he chased him far awa

John pit his castle tae the flame, and at Angus broke his band
Tae this Major-General, Montrose bood doon
An swore he'd leave the land

Bit fin King Charles the First wis grippt, as a prisoner like tae dee
Wi mony's anither Scot, John turned, an he focht for the monarchy

At Preston, John wis catched an jyled, He escaped frae his captors aa
Bit Charles wis led tae the scaffold's side An they wheeched his heid awa

In Embro toun, the monarch's heir, at the mercat cross wis hailed
Syne Montrose returned, bit he wis betrayed
Bi Macleod, an his fate wis sealed

This lord wis led bi Major Weir, doon Embro's Royal Mile
An the Tolbooth spike fur mony's a day, it wore Montrose's smile

The young King Charles claimed his throne, His luck it sune wis spent
At the Battle o Worcestor John was taen, Tae the Tower o Lunnon sent

An aik tree saved the royal neck, he pruved he wis ill tae catch
An the Tower o Lunnon's yetts they failed,
John Middleton slippt their latch

In saxteen fifty-three the King sent this general tae Scotland
Tae heid a risin in the North, bit the ploy wis undermanned


An as a regal recompense, he raised John tae an Earl
It's ye scrat my back I'll scrat yours is the wye o the hale wide warld

At the Restoration, neist step up, Lord High Commissioner
Tae Holyrood Palace he led his wife,
Wi his bairns an his new got gear

Bit sune in Embro toun he spied a face he'd hae raither missed
The great Montrose's grisly pairts war gaithered in a muckle kist

It wis kent as the Drunken Pairliament, ower free tae bribe an kill
Bit a sodjer's wye's nae a statesman's wye,
Men boo tae a musket's will

There's jist sae much that a King'll thole, his favour's like the win
Ae day it blaws tae fill yer sails, the neist tae gar ye spin

Sae John wis sent frae fair Scotian as governor o Tangier
In a distant lan in the desert san he drooned hisel in beer

If ye gang doon tae Fettercairn, his name's on the mercat cross
An some fowk say he wis great an gay,
An ithers he wis nae great loss


17.The Traffic Jam

Fit's adee? Fit's adee?
This bus hisnae moved since hauf past three!
There's a taxi o quines in ballet frocks
There's a steer o fishermen up fae the docks
There's a pipe band marchin, twenty loons
Wi a drummer in leopard skins duntin the tunes
There's seagulls skreichin ower the melee
Far is the haud up? Fit's adee?


18.A Tale o Twa Touns

Aiberdeen is bus an larry, tootin horns an traffic jams
Amsterdam is bikes an scooters, metro, shanks's meer an trams

Amstedam is sair-heid city...towrists rise in efterneen
Aff tae trawl the bars an nichtclubs. Michty! Far's the siller gien?

Aiberdeen is fish an roses, wi a herbor bi the sea
Amsterdam has tulips, diamonds, it his cherm...bit sae hae we!


19.Skinny Brig

Twa sisters bi the Amstel socht tae veesit wi each ither
Ae sister bedd on ae side, the tither ower the river

Sae they baith decided that they wad need tae bigg
(Because they baith war skinnymalinks) the Amstel Skinny Brig


20.Moray in September

The cauld o Moray sypes intae yer banes
The derkness gaithers inno the mids o firs
The alchemy o ferns cheenge green tae braisse
Ooto the rattlin heath, the broon grouse whirrs

Hyne in the wast the gloamin trysts wi nicht
The slow yowes staun an bleat or dauchle tae chaa
The brummils are nearly by, the lift's piebald
A tattiebogle wags tae a hoodie craa

Knap-darlichs hing frae hairy dowps o nowt
The parks are sypin, dreich wi dubs an weet
The tractor wheels hae pleated divots broon
A puckle roe deer creep frae the wids tae teet

The whins on the brae hae tint their yalla gowd
The birks hae pence o copper, sune tae spend
The ram-stam train gaes judderin doon the track
Like life itsel, roon mony's a dowie bend

The yalla ragwirt thrives far rowans faa
The drookit barley hings its beardie heid
Noo is the time the warld, like me, grows auld
Noo is the time the rose-hip wyme swalls reid


21.Huntly from the Train

The pylons cairry the national grid
ower the muir an alang the wid
Bit pylons hinna een like me,
Or thochts tae think, or daiths tae dee.

The coorsest thing that iver I saw
Frae a Huntly train wis a hoodie craa
Hung frae a wire wi its een awa.


22.Throwing the dice

I heard a Friesian coo say
Moo As I gaed past: I'll tell ye true
I am a dice cast on the brae
I ken that I'll be beef some day
Fit'll ye leave tae the warld fin you
Turn up yer hooves, like a Friesian coo?


23.The Warlock o Gordonstoun

Five miles north o Elgin, stauns the Haa o Gordonstoun
French Chateaux, keep, an policies, as notes o that same tune.
The roon square o its steadins, an amphitheatre makk
An in the Hoose's dowie foun, lie dungeons an hertbrakk

For Gordonstoun hid hidey-holes, a secret stairs an cell
A jyle fa's risin watters, spelt mony the chiel's death-knell
An here Sir Robert Gordon, keepit the gallows swack
Even his lady left him wi curses on his back.

He wis a skeelie smuggler..frae ships on Covesea's waves
His contraband wis flittit, bi tunnel, dark, an cave.
The faither o this smuggler, a coorse, ill-likit chiel
The elder Robert Gordon wis far ben wi the Deil

In Italy he'd traivelled, the Black Airt studied hard
Tae Pepys, he wis a scientist, tae Moray, a fey cyard
A fearie necromancer, he fulled his hoose wi buiks
A man without a shadda, fa wauked in midnicht's neuks.

His furnace burnt for seeven years, dark spells he could recount
A fire imp for a servent...a blaik horse for a mount.
An fin Sir Robert sickened, an daith come creepin near,
A fiend arrived tae claim him. The warlock jinkit clear!

His frien, a Haly meenister, leed tae the Deevil's man
An swore the laird hid vanished, by sleekit spell or plan
The Deevilick galloped wildly, twa gurly hounds ahin
Bit lees come back tae haunt ye..the fiend rode like the win
Returnin wi Sir Robert, deid, upon the horse's back
The fiend quo tae the meenister, 'Ye'll be the neist I'll takk'

Neist nicht the deevilick catched him...
He lowsed his frichtfu hounds
The meenister lay deein, torn bi a hunner wounds.
They say the deid sleep lichtly. He disna sleep ava
The Warlock Laird o Gordonstoun. Watch oot fur his fitfaa!


24.Pageant o Moray

The Ian that lies in Moray atween Elgin an the sea
Has witnessed mony's the eildritch tale o wars an sorcery
Langsyne the sea lapt at the fit o Spynie's Palace girth
Safe herbour, far the fisher fowk could sail ootower the Firth

The waters o the sea ran ben tae Duffus castle's side
Till risin san an shingle cut a lochan frae the tide
An sic a loch wis Spynie! Fringed wi star-girse, seggs an trees
The broon-sailed ferry boats sailed ower't,
Swans bobbit ben the breeze

Bit fermers drained the bonnie loch, noo cars an railroads rin
Ben fields that aince were skinklin waves far trooties flashed a fin
Noo, Spynie castle's ruined waas are dumb...
Had they the pouer tae tell
Ye'd hear queer tales o Covesea an Kinnedar itsel

An Irish priest, Gernadius, bedd in a cave nearhaun
On gurly nichts his kinnelt torch, lichtit the rocky stran
The lantern o the North shone oot tae keep sea-farers snod
As bricht's the great cathedral ower at Elgin, raised fur God.

The Spynie Bishop Bur, bedd safe...his castle wis sae stoot
It stopped the Wolf o Badenoch, fa socht tae turn him oot
Neist, David's Tower, a muckle keep, bi Bishop Stewart wis raised
Fa drave Earl Huntly frae the kirk an braved the Gordon's rage
They held the power o life an daith ower a braid territory
The Lords o Spynie, by their loch, as far as hawks could flee

The coorsest Bishop wooed the Deil. On Halloweeen t'wis said
That Patrick Hepburn through the skies, a pack o warlocks led
An aince, fin he wis grievous ill, a black cat crossed his door
An cheenged intae a Lady fair, fa wirked a fairy cure
Kings David, Robert, James, an Mary, ScotIan's bonnie Queyn
Tae Spynie wi their retinues aa traivelled in their time

Agin the flames o Ceevil War by Covenanters fanned
Stude Bishop Guthrie, till Munro, his castle force unmanned
Syne Huntly's son, Lord Lewis cam, tae test the castle tower
Bit Grant o Ballindalloch held it safe till war wis ower.

Its Bishops gaen, the Spynie keep, sune levelled tae the grun
Like hoodie craas fowk pyked its banes. It's hinmaist race wis run.
The wins that whistle ower thon shell, the sooch o winter's blast
Haud echoes o the warrior priests in Moray's stormy past.


25.The Ferryman: for Lvs Wvness.(The Aberdeenshire Canal operated from 1805-1854)

Fae Aiberdeen tae Kitty, fae Steenywid tae Dyce
Pitmedden tae Kinaldie, fowk didna mind the price
Kintore up tae Port Elphinstane the boaties eesed tae gyang
The muckle shelts that pud them war siccar breets an strang

The barges cairriet cargo, coal, tattles, floor an wine
Dung, steens an bricks an iron, wheat, oats, an beens an lime
Girse seeds an cheese an butter, satt, kye an yowes sae neat
Hides, bark an tiles an speerits..gweed malt, gweed bere, gweed meat

This Venice o the coonty, shipped guano fae Peru
An bairnies' claes fae guano sacks, ferm mithers eesed tae shew
Alang the banks the weemin steepit blankets in the suds
An heistit petticoats tae tramp the washin in the tubs
Whiles in the darker shaddas, a littlin born unsocht
Wi wechtit brick wis drappit, sma voyage come tae nocht

Whiles, drunken limmers strippit fowk's linen, quick's a wink
Fae aff the banks, an pawned it, tae keep thirsels in drink
An toozie, nesty, vratches, fa orra capers please
Risked seeven year transportation ayont the muckle seas
Tae takk the rise o Kelly, fa manned Mounthooly lock
Cowped rubbish in the watter, an brakk his gear an stock

Wauk licht bi Canal Terrace, fur there stude Hangman's Hoose
Far bedd the burgh hangie, fa tichen't mony's the noose
A short wauk tae the Castlegate...Justice, ye unnerstaun...
A knot, a nudge, anither sowel, sent tae the ferryman.


26.A Birse Fermer: For Neil McConnach,1945- 2006

Nae a coorse bane in his body. Murned
Even bi the beasts in the staa
In the mart, at the games, in the village
Likit bi ane an bi aa

Mony's the neebor he helpit
Couthie- he niver wis sweir, tae
Catch life's wee spurgies fae faain
Onytime that misfortune drew near

Niver a greet nor a grummil, gaed
Neil. Gweed wis bred in his bluid
Ay..Spring's drapt the best o its blossoms.
May bluebells chime saft ower his heid


27.Green Ladies

Towrists fae China, Toronto, Peru,
Growe fite as a gull wi a dose o the flu
Fin veesitin castles like Crathes or Fyvie,
Fin green ladies step frae the turrets o ivy

They float ower the fleers wi a toss o their hair
They wheech ower the landins, they skyte up the stair
An fin starnies glent on the stanes in the kirk
Green ladies are seen tae stravaig ben the mirk

Neist time yer admirin the cannon an flooers
If ye feel a wee breeze on historical tours
It's nae jist a draught, or a drap in the heatin
Green ladies roon statues an pictures are teetin


28.The Poppy Field After a painting The Poppyfield by Monet,1873

Waukin throw wauchts o poppies
A mither an bairn
Bricht sun, the yoam o Simmer

Droonin in rat-fu dubs
A hale generation
Blae lift, the skirl o Terror


29.Fower Jewish Proverbs

A chiel's nae auld til regrets takk the place o dreams.
Gin ye hae anely twa options, choose the third.
Tae a worm in a neep, the hale warld is neep
Gin ye wint yer dreams tae come true, dinna sleep.


30.Shema Set in Scots frae the poem bi Primo Levi,

Ye fa bide safe
In yer warm hooses
Fa gyang hame at nicht
Tae hett supper an frienly faces

Conseeder: is thon a man
Fa tyauves in the dubs
Fa kens nae peace
Fa fechts fur a toosht o breid
Fa dees at an 'Ay' or a `Na'

Conseeder: is thon a wummin
Withoot hair or a name
Wi nae mair virr tae mynd
Een teem, wyme cauld
As a puddock in Yule

Conseeder that thon has been:
Mynd these wirds I gie
Cut them inno yer hairts

Fin ye are in yer hoose
Fin ye wauk on yer wye
Fin ye gyang tae bed
Fin ye rise
Repeat them tae yer bairns
Or yer hoose may crummle
Hurt, ding doon yer pouer
Yer littlins turn their faces frae yer ain.