Best Aberdeen Poems
The king and Queen
Of the elves have two blonde haired blue eyed
Princes who will one day reign
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen.
These two young adults named Ivan and Eugene
Have learned about what it takes to rule their
Realm of green.
The Monarchy is so excited there will be two
Kings to take care of their domain.
The King and Queen
Have sent for the prince's younger sister princess
Josephine
Who will now remain with her husband Germane
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen.
Ivan will be marrying princess Geraldine.
Eugene will be marrying princess Lorraine.
The King and Queen
Will be hosting the engagement ball where the
Princesses will be receiving their rings of
Aquamarine.
This will be a huge event where elves come from
All around to play games, give their blessing, a
Present and to toast the young couples with
Champagne.
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen
Is a spectacular scene.
Captain
Report to the King and Queen
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen.
A kaleidoscope of colors
Softly twinkles in her eyes
They still shine unlike no others
Leaves me helpless, mesmerized
From the northern shores of Aberdeen
With just one magnetic glance
These majestic orbs of emerald green
Always puts me in a trance
I say I'd give a thousand breaths
For one moment neath her skies
Then pray I'd die a thousand deaths
In the oceans of her eyes
Whilst doing a degree at Aberdeen University,
In marine biology, Ben started to do archery,
Along which shooting which he took to more,
Until the international stage was an open door.
At the age of fifteen a disorder was diagnosed,
Charcot-Marie-Tooth Disease, which disclosed,
Is a hereditary nervous system disorder, feet,
Which causes his foot drop in both of his feet.
He’s an SH1 athlete and joined the British team,
In 2011 when he travelled to Alicante of glean,
And also took part in Mandeville’s Internationals,
To qualify for London’s Paras, made the finals.
Ben did well at the 2015 Shooting World Cup,
Where he finished ninth to make Rio his cup;
He was born on the 19th of February in 1988,
And shoots in the mixed R3-10m prone bate.
Four hundred and eight million years or more
ago, these mandibled arthropods were alive
left years to languish in the fossil drawer,
unearthed again, just crushed remains survive.
These natives of what would be Aberdeen,
by nearly thirty million years, predate
the oldest bugs that anyone had seen --
New York’s silverfish must now abdicate.
Their body shape seems to exemplify
what we today can still identify --
ancestors of our modern dragonfly --
and that they had four wings we can imply.
What does it matter? What’s it signify?
Once life emerged from seas, it learned to fly.
This race to freedom starts and ends with glee
Our feelings for each other staunch and keen
We cycle cross the prairie fancy free
Our goal to reach the port of Aberdeen
Our feelings for each other staunch and keen
No barriers appear to slow our flight
Our goal to reach the port of Aberdeen
With thund'ring hearts we race on through the night
No barriers appear to slow our flight
Unshackled joy as we behold the reef
With thund'ring hearts we race on through the night
The ship in port is ours, is our belief
Unshackled joy as we behold the reef
With tears of joy we know our goal is reached
The ship in port is ours, is our belief
The water from our tears flows to the beach
With tears of joy we know our goal is reached
Some day we'll tell our children of this tale
The water from our tears flows to the beach
We board the launch, make ready to set sail
Some day we'll tell our children of this tale
The day we fled from tyranny and fear
We board the launch, make ready to set sail
Was desp'rate times that brought our family here
The day we fled from tyranny and fear
Imprinting it upon our mem'ries while
Was desp'rate times that brought our family here
To live in peace on this most glorious isle
Imprinting it upon our mem'ries while
We cycle cross the prairie fancy free
To live in peace on this most glorious isle
This race to freedom starts and ends with glee
Degree work again! With Aberdeen University,
Long distance, so not in strange surroundings,
This time in the subject of my choice and tenacity,
For posterity, so as to keep above the drownings.
It’s Christian Studies, or I say theology or religion,
And psychosomatic is the word to deflect and bat,
Which loudly venerates in the divinity selection,
Where divinity scholars attempt that requested slat.
Psycho-so-matic, or “the mind” “by” “motor action”:
“the mentality” “using” “cognitive brain structures”;
“the mental” “through” “neurological muscular motion”,
The psyche so as to do with events, people and cultures.
But why don't theologians see psychosomatic analysis,
As astronomically colliding with that transcendental verb,
In which god apologises for that divine interference,
When anytime, god changes your clarity into a muddy blurb.
As a disabled child in physio, for sure I truly understood,
The word “psychosomatic”, ‘cos my bible-loving dad,
Thought the word was academic trash, not white nude,
Because it validates contextual sociology as the comrade.
So did my arm and legs movements all depend on god?
Or on psychosomatics - if my parents had sent me out full?
On happiness, psychology, mood, highers and fine kin squad,
On settings, sociology and environment, and not on bull.
Surely the discussion in theology class should entertain,
Really straight, whether the bible fits into the normal tap,
Where you march, join, journey boldly through the terrain,
Of a richly humanly authored character splayed literary trap.
She is like a rose in the garden
Like the ones in his dream of Aberdeen
With the color of deepest red and in bloom
Silently awaiting her eternal groom
I saw in her green eyes a tinge of sorrow
Seeing her groom ailing and yellow
As teardrops fell from her loving eyes
She comforts him with words so wise
She glows with love and kindness
Taking away all the intense darkness
She cradles her lover in her arms
Gives him a kiss that truly warms
She fills the air with her sweet scent
Making him feel well a hundred percent
Her beauty cures him of his malady
So happy to be with his lovely lady
Yes her beauty is like a perfect rose
And to her he would like to propose
To love honor and make her his bride
She would always be his joy and his pride
Have you ever been to Edinburgh, Perth or Aberdeen?
Or have you been to London to see Her Majesty the Queen?
Have you flown over Continents or Cities by the score?
Spoken to US Presidents, knocked on dignitaries doors?
Have you followed in others' footsteps, to places quite unique?
So fatigued and tired, that you could hardly speak?
Have you listened to the music from many distant lands,
Played by Pipes and Drums and other interesting bands?
Have you been to far off Countries, where tragedy abounds?
Seen tsunami disasters or shells begin to pound?
Have you walked some streets with pleasure, admired them with glee?
Entered a fine Olde Restaurant for a lovely cup of tea?
Have you wandered in some valley, by a lovely flowing stream?
Or sat beside the seaside in a myriad of dreams?
Have you watched a sporting item or an entertaining show,
Where professional ability left a pleasant afterglow?
Have you considered all the options, which put you to the test?
Or do you really think that you have done your very best?
Life can be quite marvellous, tragic, sad or kind!
It's really what you make it, that gives you peace of mind!
Granny sat upon the time machine
With mustard sauce,salt and sardine;
In the year Three Thousand,
My son was her husband
In the port city of Aberdeen.
12/10/2017
Britainers have no idea of distance
Ontario to B.C. is just a hop, skip and a dance
About 3,000 miles
London to Aberdeen 450 miles
Holy crap, no chance to change your underpants
Skyline of rowed houses
Rolls past and
So do the greys of labour,
Conservative and otherwise
Are boarded on the decks of
Oil tankers; hollow
Hulking HMS something
Sleeps in the docks
Of the town once red
Now muddy brown
And sick,
Labour wise and
Reading Caledonia.
Aberdeen 2012 on route to Shetland
Born in Aberdeen Washington
where he hung out,
“Underneath the bridge,
the tarp has sprung a leak”
Taught himself to play guitar,
liked to smoke some weed,
“And the animals I’ve trapped
have all become my pets”
Started writing songs,
had very deep meaning,
“And I’m living off of grass
and drippings from the ceiling”
Formed the band Nirvana
with some of his buddies,
“But it’s ok to eat fish,
cause they don’t have any feelings”
“Something in the way”
boy he’s got ambition,
“Something in the way yeah”
unwavering conviction,
“Something in the way”
chronic stomach condition,
“Something in the way yeah”
impending perdition.
Records started to sell
superstardom beckoned,
“Underneath the bridge,
the tarp has sprung a leak”
Took the billboard chart by storm,
Grunge had found its champion,
“And the animals I’ve trapped
have all become my pets”
Money started to come in,
met ‘Courtney Love’ it seems,
“And I’m living off of grass,
and drippings from the ceiling”
Got married had a child,
They named her Frances Bean,
But it’s ok to eat fish,
cause they don’t have any feelings.
“Something in the way”
by your own admission.
“Something in the way yeah”
is it drug addiction,
“Something in the way”
rehab with no remission,
“Something in the way yeah”
a round of ammunition.
Nothings in the way,
they can feel you breathing,
Board spells out your name
a very eerie feeling,
Gun went off by mistake
is the wound still healing,
Sigrid’s seance was no fake,
I am so believing,
A voice of burning nails
exorcising demons,
Goodbye Kurt Cobain
tarp was only weeping.
By
David Kavanagh
Inspired by
Sigrid Ermine poem
Called by Cobain seance
Lyrics “something in the way” by,
Kurt Cobain.
As it was when we have left,
Not from the very begining,
As this is Halloween,
Or the Night of Samhain.
Where the horror unfolds,
Of this tale of four lost souls,
Trapped in a forbidden place,
Where once terror and
bloodlust reigns.
As we were frighten to the
bones,
When Mary came at us as a
different girl,
Mary was our friend and my
lover,
But at this moment she was
neither.
As she spoke with a soothing
voice,
The voice that came out was
not hers,
Ancient with a tinge of malice,
She said her name was Alice.
That was once a very long
time ago, In a remote village
of Scotland,
Near Westhill of Aberdeen of
Salem's lot,
She was hunted out of her
home to this land.
Because she is one of the
thirteen witches,
Sisters of the unholy trinity
coven,
With a whole new identity
and common name,
To blend into society as she
is.
And onwards this story goes...
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++
Russell Sivey
Everything Halloween contest
His name was James Skene
He came from Aberdeen
Sent down to Edinburgh to die,
The brother of the Laird
Land and power shared
Everything that Scotland could supply.
But inward treasure captured mind and heart
The noose won't drag him and God apart,
So death where is your sting
When the edict of the King
Is naming God as a royal crime,
And the Covenanter's tone
Is God sits on the throne
Welcome to the "Killing Times".
The Privy Council told Skene to back down
But He loved and served a different Man's crown,
The sentence of the boss
Was death at Market cross
So that all the people then could see,
The covenant they made
Was a useless aid
If they thought that it would set them free,
He felt his life was not dear to him
Here are the final words of James Skene
"I lay down my life
For owning Jesus Christ"
He said as he looked up to the sky,
On a cold December Day
The wind and rope then played
Swinging to the tune of Martyr's cry,
Confirming what the world already knows
The blood of Martyr's make the harvest grow.
Dusty streets lined with trees
and dry water channels
petrified veins in the scorching sun
The large stately homes
hinting at a more favourable era
Shells of buildings filled with
memories of farmers’ markets
and ghosts of Jewish pedlars
Monuments of rubble and decay
to drunken street kids
and tumbleweeds.