Serjeant Buchan's Jacket (32 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.The Gweedman's Craft

Shaman, seannachie, deevilock, Deil
Clootie, Hornie, shameless cheil
Gweedman's Craft is an eildritch airt
A neuk in a path that's set apairt
For ootlinned things frae the fermer's lan
For aathin lued bi the Great God Pan


2.Auld Steadins

Auld steadins hae the cherm o teem cathedrals
The Breid, the Lamb, the Ram
A bield ahin the lichtenin an the storm
Anely the antrin moose or rotten's een
Teetin ooto the mirk, wee chinks o licht


3.Kittlins

A kittlin is a miew that wauks,
it neither wirks nur wints
Gin there's nae meat upon its mat,
it rubs yer leg an hints

Perfidious, pernickety, it's fyky tae a faut
Bit it's a dowie kinna hoose that disnae ain a cat!


4.Daffs

I like daffs, wee nyaffs that growe
Like dandelions ben the howe
They're chaip an cheerful. Wordsworth tee
Admired the daffs tremendously
An he could makk them seem real posh
Mair haute cuisine than common nosh
Stapt in a pot they bring the sun
Inno yer chaumer. Daffs are fun.


5.Al Fresco lunch

Dauchlin in the gowans, nebbin up a moch
Five an twenty corbies at an al fresco troch
Sun abeen their feathers, a buttery kind o sheen
Five an twenty corbies on a tablecloot o green.


6.Sae Wild, Sae Weet

Luely the saftsome win
Shoogles the booin seggs

On timmer legs
The pier wauks inno the loch
A warld o green an blue
Sae weet, sae wild


7.Scoops

A sunseekin banker caad Stan,
Bocht the Daily Gazette in Milan
He read aa the news withoot weirin his trews
An feenished the page wi a tan


8.Three Sisters

Three sisters traivelled tae the toon
The yalla, green an reid
The fair-haired quine drank deep o wine
An slept gin she'd bin deid.

The green ladye she pierced a vein
Tae draa the dragon's flame
The roses dwined upon her cheeks
An wi them, her gweed name.

The third tuik ony man tae bed
An catched an orra smit
That's caused sic grief ower Africa
There's nane can cradle it.

Three sisters traivelled tae the toon
The yalla, reid an green
Bit wersh the pleisurs they fand there
An solace, they got nane.


9.The Dwaumin Street

A kirk spire dwaums o pews
Full tae the gunnels, aa roads leadin tae God.

Waas guaird their territory, ettle tae be Chinese
Raxx ben continents

Hooses sikk tae be teem o stoor an stooshie
Anely the antrin street licht teetin in


10.The Wynd

The wynd curves like a heuk.
Fit's wytin roon the neuk?
The haar an the mochie rain,
rin doon each windae pane

The bluid lowps in the hairt
as the wheels o a creakin cairt
Are swallaed up bi the nicht
in an airt far aa's nae richt

Dinna step oot an luik
in the wynd wi the nerra neuk
Mony hae gaen afore
bide in an snib the door!


11.Scotland fae a Flee's Richt Ee

Bzzzzzz
I'm fleein hyne ower Hampden's girse
Thon's nae a meen, a fitbaa hings ower Glesga

Wid traffic leavin Troon takk extra care?
A zebra's bein air-liftit tae Crieff

At Archeolink a Pict wi bowfin oxters
Is howkin eels an dolphins on a steen

A corbie's pykin at a nyakkit knight
Liftin the skin like lid aff pizza boxie

Police are takkin hoofprints frae a kelpie
Accused o keechin ower George's Square.

The witnesses, a puddock an a Druid
Swore blin the culprit's really Desperate Dan


12.The Clootie Tree

Ae tree maun thole a wecht o wae
fur as the tears that's skailed
Aroon the warld ilkie day
tae its roch boughs are nailed.

The win that wheechs alang its glen's
the sab o misery
An dowie, dowie is the wish
hings on the Clootie Tree

The antrin leaves are tipped wi gowd,
wishes that hae been met
Fur ane that's gien, there's ten unseen
at Lamentation's yett.


13.Miracles in Fife

A shoal o mackerel sweem in the clouds ower Fife
Herrin are on the horizon, skytin doon wattergaws

Waves hae appeared, fell like a seagull armada
An ilkie secunt rock is growin fuskers.


14.Fvvie Wids

Oh Fyvie's wids are sweet an braw
Bit dinna bide ower lang
There's twa that dauchle bi the burn
Far witcherie is thrang

They keep the tryst they pledged in life
That Fate decreed they manna
The mools sit licht on restless banes
That fain wad sleep, bit canna.

Oh Fyvie's wids are sweet an braw
Bit Sorra's wintry blast
Like a cauld dyew cams rushin throwe
The deid haun o the past


15.Driftwood Inventory

The gurly sea haives sleet an hail
Far boats are sindered bi the gale
For writ in watter's ilkie name
The angeret waves intend tae claim
The strand is far the tides gie back
The smaa receipts frae ilkie wrack


16.On a Scottish Beach

The Lido raises Euros,
The Scots beach raises plooks
Wi rinny snoots an noses
An caul in aa yer nyeuks


17.The Boaties' Lullaby

A bourach o boats are hunkered doon
Chyned tae the herbour neth the meen
A hugmahush o a hoor gyangs by
Miniskirt an stiletto sheen

Fair ferfochan, the tide rowes ower
The deck is teem an the nets are bare
Wi raggedy duds the hameless creep
Aff tae the glaur o a nameless lair

Hushie-ba sings the herbour waa
Even the scurrie steeks its moo
The haar that's happin the herbour bar
Sleeps tae the watter's saft balloo


18.Somethin's Fishy

Somethin fishy's on the stran
Skeleton o shag an shark
Fish heid orrals left ahin
Herrin wymes without the sark

Guddlin like a vicious watch
Daith's bin paiddlin bi the tide
Luikin fur a human catch
Mithers, takk yer bairns an hide


19.Muckle Whale, Blue Kirk

Ooto the moo o a whale
Cam a blue kirk spewin oot a heeze o tracts
Washed ashore nearhaun tae the Butt o Lewis.

The Leviathan skelped its tail, cried 'Hallelujah'
Precentors ran tae catch the soun in nets.


20.The Wolf an the Lamb: Tune, Mill o Tiftv's Annie

Pluscarden Abbey's ringed wi sang
Frae the green wids blithe an bonnie
Its howe's a crucible o sang
Sweet upon the lug as hinney

The faither's gie their life's wark ower
Tae the god they haud as maister
For ilkie step on the road they takk
There's anither fit gyangs faister

Fite roses lowp far the breem flooers cowp
In the sheuch a blue bell's dwinin
Its doverin heid is a wizzenin weed
Simmer growth, bit ae flooer's crinin

The gorblie smaa an the craikin craa
Ay the Wolf an Lamb thegither
Auld Bane-Shanks wyles them ane an as
For the black pyoke ower his shooder

The Leevin wauk ben a story road
Till the day they maun be cairriet
In this mortal warld tae the licht be thirled
Wi the mools ye'll lang be merriet


21.The Day I adopted a Balloon

Bill Breenger wis a bosker o a balloon
He wis a birthday loon if ye iver kent ane

Al Catraz wis a bruiser, a wee Zeppelin
Sure tae gyang oot wi a bang
Sophie-Marie wis jist a puffed up midden

Sae I adopted Dod, a green balloon
On the peely-wally side.
I kent that I cud twist him roon ma finger


22.Jock Thamsan's Bairns: A Scottish Cliché

An alien's drappit fae Planet Z
Wi twa green plooks fur een
He slivves an snochers- a minky Ted
An he cams frae ayont the meen

Bit dinna be fleggit bi sic-like things
He'll nae gie cause fur concerns
Fur jumbos, Jehosephas, bugs wi lugs
We're as Jock Thamsan's bairns.

The moocher, the prigger, the druggie, the chore
The cyard wi the clarty claes
The malagaroozed an the three quarts boozed
Wi the gweed maun share their days

We shoogle alang, the hale jing-bang
On the rickety cairt thegither
A twa three turns on the craikin wheel
Aa's stoor, baith sanct an sinner

Tae the Glory-Hole o Eternity, Nirvana an Tir nan Og
The yalla, the reid, the near-haun deid
Maun wauk ben the trimmlin bog
0 flegs bumbazement an ootricht joy
Frae Rome tae the Howe o Mearns
There's nane can swick Valhalla's rick
Fur we're as Jock Thamsan's bairns!


23.Six Things I Ken Tae be sung in the mainner o a kirk precentor on a weet Sabbath in damp breeks yoamin o mochbaas

Herrin are best fried flat bi anxious mothers
The Dalai Lama weirs ma faither's scarf
Cras niver haud their parliaments in Embro
The flees in Washington rin roon yer sark
Crocodiles niver brakk win efter stovies
A restin greenhouse is a bonnie sicht


24.The Muckle Bear

This bear's a stoater.
He's a literary breet.
He dis his daunce tae oos an ahs o winner

Fowk speir as he shauchles alang
Humfin his literary eerins,
His wikk's wecht o wirds:
`Are ye the anely black bear in yer family?
Can onybody larn tae be a bear?

Hae ye a favourite bear?
Jist wave yer paws again...
Gie us a roar...
Ae mair time....ye ken, the wye we like

See yon muckle bear? I kent his faither.'


25.A Thoosan Steps: Balquidder

There is a swack yett in a seely airt,
Wi a knot-hole the wud bee fussles throw,
Far foxglove plays her cairds close tae her chest,
Her thummles steeked tae keep her hinney-dyew.

Ootbye, the tar-faced lammies peengin bleet
Mells wi the lintie's upsy-doonsy sang.
A gash o watter breenges ben twa skelps,
0 girssy bank that merk the burns wae gaun.

The lochan wummles like an efterstang.
In a tin troch, roost watter fulls wi cloud.
Treelips o strae waucht in the sonsie breeze.
Ben the roch air three laricks showdy powd.

Anither hiunner steps. The loch boos roon
Like some young, glekit, dwaumin luv-seek quine
Barin her showders tae her lover's haun,
The stanes, her rig bane raxxin tae her wyme.

Hauf-wye. Twa Druid aiks makk nae repon
As I wauk fusslin tae their timmer lair.
A ruined steadin's nyakkit tae the win,
An open door tae aa that waunner there.

Waves wash their bobbin coracles o licht
Aroon a tree struck doon in a deid dreel,
Its dry limbs skeletal, its skaith sae deep
Nae aa the tears o Heiven cud wash it weel.

A burnie treetles in aneth the road,
A happit drooth its gluggeran is slee,
Till breengin oot, a drukken ne'er dae weel
It poors the loch a dram o peaty bree.

A yowe keechs on the brae, aside a sign
That says ye mauna picnic on the lan...
Bit keech awa... there's nane tae care or myne,
Nocht bit the shmoodrie smashrie o the san.

A thoosdan steps. A conservation airt
Here free-reenge ferns wi pee-the-beds aboon
A doonpish in the affin. Natur soors
Sae ae smaa cloud can marr the mapamoun


26.At the Hinmaist Trump

The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief
Kill not the moth nor butterfly
For the last Judgement draweth nigh—William Blake

Hell's Bells, it's the hinmaist trump
Hieronymus Bosch's Haywain's stappt wi sowels
Graves are teemin frae Leuchars tae Hindustan

Lucifers lichtin their fags
A hantle o seraphim, cherubim,
Hudderie hawks, are hitchin a hurl tae Heiven
Ahin Hell's angels revvin up Jacob's laidder
Daein a ton.

Me? I'll be pykin moosewabs ooto ma teeth
I'll be caimbin the yird frae ma hair
Sae stiff auld beens can turn
A Millenium or ten in a sax fit kist
Alang wi ma forebears, efterbears,
Bugbears et cetera stappt inno the cosie kirn
0 a kirkyaird.

Oh isn't it rare, thon sense o communal rot
Fin yer richt jowl crummles inno yer grannie's crannie?

We'll cowp the daffs frae their bowls
Shakk hauns wi Freud an Plato,
Hae an induction tour o the ooter galaxies
Oh ma dysfunctional genes, we'll as hae a gran day oot
Nae doot there'll be punch ups, blaw oots, makk ups, faa oots
Afore we traivel alaft or doon ablow,

Quasimodo ma lugs are ringin wi thon clattervengeance o soun
Siccan a steer, the eyn o warld an the eyn o the warld's miner!


27.Bride

I merriet a fermer's loon
Lan wis sib tae ma clan
Near far ma race began
I merriet a fermer's loon

Noo, I bide in a toon
Steen streets on ilkie haun
I merriet a fermer's loon
Lan wis sib tae ma clan


28.Auld Scots Leid

The Auld Scots Leid's a bonnie sailin ship
Its cargo's cairriet at its kintra's hairt
The spikk o Kings an Commons, joy an maen
The Auld Scots Leid's a bonnie sailin ship

Stinch vrocht tae veesit mony's the unca airt
Sweire, thrawn an swippert, breistin the snell faem,
The Auld Scots Leid's a bonnie sailin ship
Its cargo's cairriet at its kintra's hairt


29.The Makker's Smit

Daybrakk's like a straucht-backed gentle quine
That rises in a wid o weel-faired suitors

I am the carlin cooriet in the cave
Steerin the spirkin hotterel o the leid
It is my curse, my blissin an my weird

An sae, the warld claims me. I claim it
Frae fremmit fowk, gley-eed, I sidlins shift
Foraye I wad amang wud craiturs sit
Like a grey stag descreivit in auld lays
An there's the verra knub, the peety o't
He wauks alane fae takks the Makker's smit


30.Faither & Dother Veesit the Sale-room

F) Thon's a gran kist. A kistie's aywis eesefu
D) Is it tae keep things in, or haud things oot?
F) An oor-gless wi't... An sic a bonnie time-piece!
D) Ochone, foo fest the san rins throwe its face...
F) There's a pine door. It's got a braisse name-plate
An flesh o mine, luik cannie at the date..
D) Yer nae tae buy it. Ony kist bit thon.
An fit'll cam o me gin yer awa?
F) I'm haein it. I've made the final bid.
Fegs quine, a da growes weariet at the eyn.
I lue ye, Bit there's whyles ye've bin a tcyauve.
I canna staun aa day an chaa the cwid.
It fits me snug. A bosie lass, ta ta.
Noo bugger aff an let me steek the lid.


31.Fower Glisks o a Glen

I saw a heron this foreneen
Cloud ower the trootie's lair
He micht hae bin a Buddha-steen
He didna meeve a hair.

At noon, day brocht a thing unsocht
A mavis bi the shingle
Hairt warmin as the Shiva flame
That lowps aroon the ingle

Noo gloam gaes rikkin aff the Ben
June's wa-gaun fae Balquidder
The ghaistie-claes o Beltane's days
Rise in a heeze thegither

Aa spirks o rain drapt ower the glen
Lulled in the lochan's briest
Ferfochan traivellers frae the lift
Gaen solace, an a reest.


32.Luv-Sang

I am the fite steen by the loch
I am the watter's bride
He lues me weel my cauldrife lord
Sae leal tae him I bide

Tho we hae neither lum nor reef
Nor lintel tae oor hame
Throw smirr an weet, throw sun an sleet
I offer him ma wame