The Win & The Rain (10 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The Win & The Rain (10 Scots Poems)



1.Singleton

She trauchles tae the shop an hame
Shovin the bairn he left ahin
A heavy wecht. Her hairt is stane
Nae skirp o solace can she fin

Fur aathin noo is secunt-haun
Her days are soor. Her bed is cauld
Welcome tae single parent lan!
He's gane an aa she dis is scauld

Foo pleased she'd bin tae gie him this
The livin pruif her luve wis true!
He's gane. Noo, sorra kythes frae bliss
Rose gairdens wither intae rue
His een luik frae the bairn's face
The littlin in the faither's place


2.The Lads

Margot, a washed oot lily at fifteen
Publicly coorted in the spot-lit street
Dutch bulb, turned bleedin tulip at sixteen

Annabell's lads were niver nine tae fivers
She cam hame late, in sporty, phallic cars
Her beaux wore Rolex cuff-links, wir high-fliers

Lana wis blate an couthie, unca plain
Her da's pipes nott a stream o merriet plumbers
Wi ane o them she ran aff doon the drain

Nae winner yer still single, ' I wis telt.
`Ye've got tae wink an ee, an grind yer hips
Ye've got tae smile, tae pout, tae strut yer stuff
Hitch up yer breists. Smear sex alang yer lips.'


I trapped a lad at last, at an Arts Ball
Half-canned, he socht me hame at the last daunce
I stood, a tattie-bogle in a park
Pykit bi craw-pecks. Ah la belle romaunce!


3.Kieran Christie Spikks tae the Social

The first luve that ma hid wis Steve
A seaman. Oh the tales he'd wyve!
He tuik me tae the watter front
Thegither we wad cockle-hunt
He vowed he'd niver leave.
He kissed Janine. Ma hid tae heave
Him oot. Nae cam-back, nae reprieve.
My secunt da wad booze an grunt...
I wish I wis a Spanish ship,
a -sailin the high seas

Skweel says I bully an I thieve
That I'm ower hyper tae achieve
Da nummer three says I'm a runt
That I maun takk the things I wint
That happiness is makk-believe
I wish I wis a Spanish ship
a-sailin the high seas


4.Tae them wi nane, be gien.

The barfit fishers on the beach,
their fyew possessions teen
Greet that the sea has netted men.
Tae them wi nane, be gien.

The western pleisur sikkin fowk
lived throw thon widdendreme
Bairns, hames an aa wheeched aff like straa.
The ocean wyves abeen.

The lauchin bairn, the wirkin cheil, thegither or alane
Dauchled tae watch an Act o God, an in thon dwaum war taen
The sea that washes Thailan's sides, bathes India's backbeen
Sweetens Sri Lanka wi its tides, turned traitor this foreneen
Stole frae the puirest o the puir afore ocht cud be daen
Even the bairns frae oot their airms.
Tae them wi nocht, be gien

0 far's the Wise Men in the East that cudnae hae foreseen
The sea rise up like a grey wolf wi murder in its een?
The nations roon the Indian Sea, they hae nae siller speen
May loaves an fishes multiplee...tae them wi nocht, be gien.


5.Connor McGraw

He's dunted the shepherds and skelped the kings
Cowped sweet Jesus ooto his staa
Connor McGraw. Fa'll clip his wings,
The angel fa irritates ane an aa?

The Bethlehem scene's gaen rick-ma-tick
Foo is the cuddie weirin a croon?
Fa's thou turnin the ither chikk?
Moonin aboot wi his troosers doon?

He's echt years auld bit acts nineteen
His ma is staned fin he gyangs tae bed
He watches the bang-bang TV screen
Till three a.m. wi his wide-eed Ted

`What's St Nicholas bringing you, '
The teacher speirs, 'from his great big sack? '
Connor McGraw thinks hard and says
`He's bringin ma bluidy game boy back.'

Echt a.m. an Santie's been
Aathin Connor McGraw could need
Aathin's awa bi twelve fifteen
Selt fur fags an a fix o speed.

Connor McGraw he's haived a brick
Throwe the shop wi its Xmas show
Sen fur the social worker quick
It's nae even rowed wi a festive bow!

Reindeer sleigh's here, presents galore
A time fur blitheness, a Disney show
Connor's minder's the chiel neist door
Bring on the punch an the ho- ho- ho

Xmas star dae ye shine sae fair
Jist for the sake o the lucky fyew?
Is there anither star oot there,
Fur Connor McGraw? Is it gowd or blue?



6.Winter

In the mochy dreichness o winter,
Girse weirs a frost straichtjaiket
In an oot-o-sicht sheuch,

Reeds chitter, like a strang electric shock's
Bin sizzled throwe their verra banes an marra
Barbit wire grips in weird parks o wae

Blin-drift boos trees wi grue,
The harbinger o sufferin an sorra.
Braes rikk wi cranreuch cauld.

A hawk gaes flichter flachterin ower the wids
His name is Daith.
Wallopin hungered wings
His wyme aye gaps fur maet

Clouds stappit wi Yule
Writhe like a wud wife in a jizzen
This is the coorse sizzen

The jinniprous spruce is sherp's a jaggy glaiss
Dule swypes in wi the derk, in mugger's claes
Ettlin tae rype the warmth o the braes
Coffm fodder, hirplin rubbits squeak
Snadrops heidbang eyndless, at the grun
Tryin tae leave afore the funeral's by.


7.It's Cauld, oot/ Blue Toon Hipsters

The hardest hairy in Peterheid is young Tallulah Bruce
She's a bairn in a pram like Desperate Dan
That she feeds on jungle juice.

Insteid o a dummy it sooks a nail. It's got its mither's luiks
The hair on its heid is post box reid. A mountain reenge o plooks
Rise ower its chicks like the Grampians,
It's niver bin heard tae greet
I's sweir its da wis a batterin ram,
It disna spik it bleats.

Tallulah's aff tae fetch the tea
Some chips an Bacardi rum
Tae keep the frost o the North East Coast
Fae nippin her builder's bum


8.Ghaisties

Creepin up the Ship's Raw, bi crooked wynd an lane,
Nigh sax hunner ghaisties they takk the low road hame
Nigh sax hunner ghaisties... their kistit banes lie cauld
Atlantic waves sair pairtin the New Warld frae the Auld

They seek their blythesome bairnhood, afore they war waylayed
Near herbour or bi schooner... the sleekit slavers' trade
Bit oh, the hames that murned them are nocht bit stoor an win
Nigh sax hunner ghaisties an nane tae lat them in


9.The Auld Alliance

`Bonjour, ' says Jean, 'Fit like? ' says Jack,
The Xmas tree stauns green an swack
Bairns birl aroon the skatin rink
Electric angels sway an blink
Ower Union Street this Northern Yule
Richt hairtily fowk banish dule
Wi Santy hats an reindeers lugs
They buy hot dogs an woolly rugs
Dutch tulips sell far revellers dance
Roon staas an olives frae Provence.

Aiberdeen rowies, French baguettes
Are bocht, wi flooers an glaiss chess sets
Rich pastry an sweet clementines
Weel hanselled by the festive chimes
As Mither Kirk bells ring the cheer
The last wikks o the deein year

`It's gran, ' says Jim. 'C'est bon, ' says Jacques
'The Auld Alliance hist ye back!


10.The Wagtail and the Nightingale Tune: The Buchan Bobby

A wagtail an a nightingale met in the Music Haa
The nightingle, a native o the toun o Aiberdeen
Stept oot an shook her plumage, the audience wis braw
Sae quaet ye cud hae hearkened tae the drappin o a preen

Rossini an Puccini soared, their lyric tunes took flicht
The velvet o the curtains like the Heivens up abeen
The jewels on the soprano glittered like a winter's nicht
Fin the wagtail an the nightingale appeared in Aiberdeen

The wagtail wis a fiddler, yarkin up an doon the bow
His music telt the stories o Grantully an Cromar
Fae the shakkins o the pyockie tae the hertbrakk o Neil Gow
As frisky as the whisky at the dowp o Lochnagar

There wis Tosca an McCrimmon an the beddin o the bride
The watch-chyne at his westcoat keepin time tae ilkie tune
Buenos Aires an Connecticut, Loch Earn an Bogieside
An a magpie at the concert pianie playin Clair de Lune

Music is the sweetest medicine fae the cradle tae the kist
Wi the pouer tae cheer in hospice, an tae kittle up a ward
Wi the wagtail an the nightingale the peel wis double blessed
In a nicht o stars an music, in the toon o Bon Accord!

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