The Mannequin: Poems, Scots & English Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The Amazing Flea
I'm the star of a famous flea circus
Sipho-naptera, that's me
I wish you could see my gold tutu
As I thrill all the men in Paree
Have you got an itch for perfection?
I pull chariots round like Ben Hur
I'm the star of a famous flea circus
I'm so fast, I pass by in a blur!


The Muckle Blaw
In the gale of the night of 31st January 1953,19 died in Scotland.The strongest wind was recorded in the north at 126mph. In the North East it was called The Muckle Blaw

When I was six, my father drove us up to the woods of Mar
To witness the price that trees had paid for standing

Forests laid low, by the terrible force of the gale
Snapping giant firs like children's straws
Vulnerable sylvan victims, a generation topplede devastation in The Netherlands

Within this splintered world of devastation,
Caravans had blown past windows, he told me
Snow half buried slanting telegraph poles
Hen houses took to the air and flew like birds

Stepping out of the car, we were met with silence
No bird song, belling stags, no swish of branches
Four hundred year old Caledonian Pines gone in a blink

It felt like the very earth beneath our feet
Could change to shifting sand on a God's whim.


The Pedestrian
I'm a pedestrian waukin by
Usin ma ain twa legs
I dinna use gas or spyle the air
Or toot tae gie fowk flegs

I'm a pedestrian waukin by
I've time tae watch the trees
As ane bi ane in the Autumn cheenge
They quaetly doondrap leaves

I'm a pedestrian waukin by
I dauchle an whyles devaul
Tae watch the clouds in the Heivens flit
As the day creeps oot twa fauld


The Swan's Courting
Mute swans are as graceful as corn
Swaying in a light spring breeze

Their courtship's a choreographed ballet
Floating in close proximity, side by side.

Both sets of wings lowered
Like the sales on a felucca boat
Dipping into the Nile

They dip their heads below water,
Lift them and preen,
Like naiads of Ancient Greece
Droplets of water streaming along their flanks

Now, they move in unison
Press their breasts together
Like Orpheus & Eurydice
Raise and lower their necks
As their eyes meet in harmony

Like sacred serpents, they sway
Hypnotised, fixated in rapture
Their necks intertwine
She is Leda to his Zeus

Now the female is mounted,
He lifts her neck with her bill
They spread their wings to stabilise
Like gliders, skimming the clouds

His mate treads water till he dismounts
They rise from the water beating their wings
A celebration of ecstasy, sublimity
The mating is over. The couple float on, together


Aberdeen: The Future
If we could take Time Travel to the Future
What changes might there be in Aberdeen?
What speech, what architecture & what culture?
Will all our citysoon be clean & green?
Moving walkways might be set in pavements
Electric scooters might be on the scene
Sky trains on stilts will ease the traffic movements
Off shore sea housing schemes will start to grow
For homeless and for tenancy displacements
Under the waves, in eerie North Sea glow
With oxygen pumped into aqua bubbles
And underwater fields where food can grow
And visitors in hotel capsulessleep
As in Japan, so basic but so cheap

The Mither Kirk may be a spa retreat
For Tai Chi, meditation, sushi bars
At Hazelehead you may reserve a seat
Aboard a spaceship setting off to Mars
And on the Green, insects will make up sales
Deep fried beetles, other beasts bizarre
Steamed grasshopper, cockroaches, pickled snails
Nigg seaweed, Footdee buckies, flatties too
And from the harbour, trips to see the whales
At Hazlehead, there'll be a virtual zoo
Pupils will learn at home, and school part time
Travel guides will point out every view
To passengers from cruise ships berthed at Nigg
Pointing out wind farms, obsolete oil rig

There will be robots cleaning every home
Now, seagulls will be trained to carry mail
The Duthie Park will have an Eden dome
Of different climates, safe from snow and hail
The hospital will have a wonder lab
For growing spare parts for the sick and frail
From their own cells, to raise up from a slab
For exercise at home, on treadle wheels
Like hamsters, folk will walk away their flab
And in pandemics, there'll be pills for meals
In Torry there will be a Culture Hub
For teaching cornkisters, eightsome reels
Far Doric will be taught tae aa incomers
Aa council bodies, businessfowk, heidbummers

Sae here's a puckle wirds fur aa tae ken
Fit like? Far? Fa? an Fan? kirk, cassies, rowie
Oxter an dowp, blin drift, girse, knowe an Ben
Bairn, mingin, orra, contermaschious, scurrie
This Culture Hub'll take you to the past
A fish house by the harbour, Rubislaw Quarry
(All in this Torry Hub with acting out
Even down to whalers in an icy blast)
And then, transported up the River Dee
By heliporter, to the hinterland
The Royal tour, then back to our fair city
To sample brose, once loved by farming stock
Truly, a futuristic Culture Shock!


Relationship
Jason & Sally,20 years wed
Gaen frae a dooble tae a single bed

His hair is fite, her hair's dyed broon
Thegither bit apairt, nae wird, nae soun

He reads his paper, she fichers wi her phone
The nest is teem an the birds hae flown

His broos hae wrunkled, her jynts are swallt
He's cock o the midden, she dis fit she's tauld

His shooders are up an hers are doon
Life slips awa, auld claes, scuffed shoon


Mr Rapper
Exotic as a Putney orchid
His threads are jazzy
Like a Cockney peacock
He's a real cockscomb

And where did he get
Those lace up boots
A Cossack would have loved,
Mr Rapper with the silver tones?

His face is lean's a whippet
His skin's like teak
Man, why so sad Jamaican boy,
Is the fog of London
Eating your blood warm bones?


Awaiting Diagnosis
Suspended between two worlds
A couple are waiting for a diagnosis
Is the wife a visionary or a mystic?
Is it a run of the mill psychosis?

In their home village, two oceans away
A seer is sacred. A seer is revered

In this new world, hallucinations
Lead to Lithium, strong prescriptions

Suspended between two worlds
A couple are waiting for a diagnosis
Is the wife a visionary or a mystic?
Is it a run of the mill psychosis?


Priestess of the Yoruba Orisha faith
She stands with her calabash pot
Given when she was initiated into her faith
She is dressed in white
Representing the depth of her spirituality

Her knotted hair is swept up, swathed in cotton.
She is one of theYoruba peopleof Nigeria

Her journey on the path of her faith,
Began at the age of five
Initiated into the Orisha ways by her parents

By 15 she sat with her elders
Mastered divination, chanting and rituals.
Some accused her of idol worship and witchcraft

Religion in Nigeria is woven tight as a braid
Islamists call to prayers with every dawn,
Christian preachers sermonize
The Yoruba Orisha priestess drums and chants


Storm Frank
In December 30,2015, torrential rain hit the North East, with Ballater, Braemar and Aboyne worst affected.

Frae twa or three spits o rain, there cam a maelstrom
Doon frae the Bens aroon, swalled burns cam breengin
Bringin terror an wae tae the nearhaun clachans

Mair nor a hunner fowk, driven frae hames in Ballater
Eftir the Dee raced ower the gowf coorse, droonin greens an bunkers

Nae electricity, the clachan cuttit aff
An island in the middle o the watter

The Ballater-Braemar road, washed aff at Micras
Dichtit aff the map bi the wecht o rain
The Invercauld Brig, steekit tae aa traffic.
Cambus O'Maysteel brig, warped like a wrung oot cloot

Abergeldie Castle, auncient hame o the Gordons
Teeterin on the brink as the Dee aroon it floods
Like a spurgie on a twig in the heicht o a gale
The Tarland Burn brakk oot,droonin nearhaun hooses

Caravans birled like peeries, sweemin like dyeuks
Alang wi trees, upreeted, floatin like boaties
Hames washed awa, their ainers fleggt an greetin
The storm itsel, tho, disnae fie a snuff!