Best Dialect Poems
A angry sky, as cauld as Loch Lomon'
fair drew me out from cot o' peat, an' bed.
The wolves wus wailin', an' thund'r respond'd
Ah gather'd tam, me tartan, an' dug Red.
To 'orse ah took an' found the 'erd sam 'urt.
The 'ungry wolves 'ad already fed.
Inta the bi'er blaw, the rill ah skirt
thro braes a white, t'ward ham an' fire burnin'
the bleatin' sheep, the 'orse an' ah alert.
We wud mak it hame, stomaches churnin'
O smell the peat fire on the wild wind now,
'ear the cows faint distant ca', a lowin'
'erself wud know, we'r near ta the brow.
Noo, we 'ad beat the storm hame, an' kep' me vow.
Dedicated to Jimbo Goff & James Fraser
and the spirit of Robin Burns
See About the Poem
Categories:
dialect, absence, culture, faith, farm,
Form:
Terza Rima
PPPPPardon mmme bbbut I hahave a sssspech iiimpppedement Ssso could yyou pplease bbear
wwith mme. TThis hhas bbeen mmy llife. Sometimes its nnot as bbad aas others aand other
times it is mmuch wwworse. IIT hhas cccaused mmme mmmany pproblems iin mmy llife. II
aallways gggot iinto aa lllot oof fffights bbbbbecaause pppeopple wwwwould mmmake fffun
ooof mmme. Once I get ccomftorable wwith the people aaround me it almost sseems tto
disappear. When iits jjust my wife, daughter, close fffriends etc. iit dddoes’t bbother me
aas bbad because III kknow tthat tthey llove mme. When its just my wife and I talking it
is so beautiful because I am free to speak my heart, sometimes I sstill stutter bbut not
sso often.
Recently I wwas sssent bby aaa llady nnamed LLinda PPParker wwho wworks ffor ttthe
DDept. of RRhabilitation tto mmeeet wwith aaanother llllady nnamed NNNacy BBBarcal wwwho
iiiis a sssspeech ppppatologist and sshe fffitted mme wwwith aa ddevice nnamed SSSpeeech
EEasy and aas sssoon as sshe ttturned iit oon II tttalked jjust llike tthis. Pardon me but
I have a speech impediment though you wouldn’t know it because I’m now wearing the “speech
easy” device. I know you thought that it was a hearing aid but no my hearing is just fine.
Written for the Dialect Contest. I realize it's not what
was expected but how could I pass on the opportunity
to tell of such an amazing life changing device. If you
are a stutter such as myself I urge you to check out
www.speecheasy.com or www.janusdevelopment.com
it has most certainly changed my life in a big way!
Categories:
dialect, recovery from...life, me,
Form:
Free verse
my blood and bones spits
our heritage, hut and hits
our accent … speaking spirits
Categories:
dialect, art, people
Form:
Haiku
'JACK the DAW' (In Lancashire Dialect)
Struttin’ and Puffin’ his big chest out,
The streets all clear, when he’s about.
Inside all’doors, waitin’ for’ thump
Families quake and animals jump!
Mam goes to’ door, money in hand
Shakin’ as she stares at his black neck band,
She dares’nt look in his blue black eyes
They say there’s murder an’ spent-up lies.
We just hear his voice, raucous and loud
“Your rent, your rent!” he shouts out proud
An’ all the street kids play
An’ all the street kids say,
Jack the Daw walks down the street
Jack the Daw with his great big feet
Jack the Daw, if he looks your way
Run away, run away, run away, run away!
Categories:
dialect, history, inspirational love,
Form:
Free verse
Blue bike(Northern dialectably)
A bicycle that’s new was blue and swankity it had 52 spokes all chromed and
silver fancery
That bike was mine
I rode up hills to see the countery and down dales to go fast and rode it chancery
That bike was mine
I popped a tyre down near ta factory and I took it home to tell ta family we got
out spoons and inspected ta mattery then I put a plaster were the puncture
bubbled watery
That bike was mine
It had 10 gears which were satisfactory five were hard and the others sappery
but it got me going were I want ta be
That bike was mine
Soon I was looking for a new bike practically with ten more gears and a name that
suited me but I’ll never forget that blue bike frankily
Because that bike was mine
Categories:
dialect, art,
Form:
Free verse
Dozy with Cider
The tavern was quiet but for old farmer John,
when the Kings rider strode in demanding a bed,
He ordered his ale and sat next to the old sage,
“Where be all the villagers?” he said.
Farmer John took a sip from his tankard and smiled,
“What brings you to our village, good sire?”
The rider frowned, then with his head tucked down,
His eyebrows rose higher and higher!
“This village gives birth to babes every year
They, being born all on the same day!
And ‘tis known all about, folk here are healthy and strong
And everyone happy and gay!”
The old man grinned, wily,
“Aye sire, ‘tis true. Now, you fill my tankard to its peak,
Many a slip, twixt cup and lip
an’ i will give you the answers you seek.”
“On this day sire, when the season’s mists do rise
to the warmth of the September sun,
The young lads an’ lasses stand ready, in Jackson’s field,
their race of the day has begun.
They run to the orchard, climbing ladders high,
pickin’ apples to throw in to their sack.
Their young knees bending with the weight
of the fruit hanging, from their back.
When they’ve finished their task and the cart is full,
the sun is low in the sky,
An’ the Taverner welcomes ‘em with bread an’ cheese,
an’ their spirits are soaring high!
An’ they drink the fruits of their labour with glee,
then hand in hand, sleep they, in the hedgerows you see!
Every babe born the following year,
is born a healthy, happy mite,
For under those hedgerows, were created love, an’ a natural joy,
A Royal beginning, for girl an’ boy!
An’ the heart of this ritual, if the truth be told,
Is the liquid you drink now sire, our Autumn Gold!"
Categories:
dialect, birth, culture, drink, england,
Form:
Rhyme
There is an old scribbler from Southwark*
Who’s poetry undoubtedly sucks.
She couldn’t pronounce ‘poem’,
‘Cause she rhymed it with ‘home’.
Ain’t posh enough, innit, so she’s stuck!
Categories:
dialect, language, poets,
Form:
Limerick
Mama
Her patient love
Her caring voice
Her kind deeds
Her loving heart
A woman of integrity and pride
One who would do anything for her child
A wonderful person is she
Who gives of herself to all including me
Even though she can be strict
She can also be fun
When hard times come
She shines like the sun
And always over come
By: Karl Goulborne
Categories:
dialect, absence, adventure, age, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
Well, 'e sidled up the sofa, and he snuggled up right close…
I said, “Now, watch it, Charlie, you’ll get ***-ash on me toast!”
'E said, “D’you think…?” I said, “Not much…” 'e said, “No, well, I mean…”
I said, “You what…?” 'E said, “You know…” I said, “Now, keep it clean!”
Well, he snuck his arm around me, an' I thought, “WOW! This is IT!”…
Then he suddenly pinched me cherry, an' he gave it a dribbly lick!
I yelled, “Gerroff…!” 'E said, “Come on, I 'aven’t 'ad it yet…”
I said, “You do, I’ll chuck yer out!” 'E leered, “D’yer wanna bet?”
WELL…
I snatched it out of his fingers, an' I put it back in place.
'E sighed, “Ahh, don’t it look lovely…” OOH! I could’ve slapped 'is face!
'E said, “that the time? I’ll 'ave ter go…” I said, “What’s up with you?”
He said, “Yer know…” I said, “I don’t!” … Then 'e went, - and IT went, too!
WELL!!!!
I thought he wanted my body, and a night of illicit fun…
But all he was really after was… The cherry off my BUN!!!!
This is in the style of the old-time comedian's monologue.
I particularly thought of Les Dawson, but we all remember a favourite.
In Northern English dialect, all small cakes are called buns ...
Categories:
dialect, funny, girlfriend-boyfriendme,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Sovrinty’s a grand ole gent,
But sovrinty don’t pay the rent.
I got six kids’ moufs to feed.
Sqeezin’ stones don’t make ‘em bleed.
Theresa gal sure went and blew it,
But oo blimmin’ else is there to ’ do it?
Oo else is there to clear the fog?
Wot’s your take, mate? That toff, Reese-Mogg?
Oo ever duzzit, do it fast!
‘ow long’s this Brexit lark to last?
A glossary of terms for the protection and benefit of young learners of English
soverinty - sovereignty
don’t (third person singular present tense - doesn’t
ole – old
gent - gentleman
maufs – mouths
squeezin’, goin’, - -ing
‘em – them
gal – girl
oo - who
blimmin’ - expletive filling word like bloody, damn, etc.
toff - a sometimes derisive term for member of the upper class from a non-member of that class's point of view
duzzit - does it
‘ow - how
Categories:
dialect, anxiety, humorous, political,
Form:
Burlesque
CHANGE
Change mus come
No matter whey yu tun
It ah go come
Even if yu run an’ hide
Or tan an’ criticize
It ah go com’
Yu decide fi hav sum fun
Shootin off yu big long gun
Mekk some life dun
In the Isles of de sun
Cho, change ah go com
Weddah yu want fi look pon it
As small change or big change
Change ah change
An’ it ah com
365 days in ah de year
Waste everyone if yu dare
But change ah go still com, yu hear
Yu who are in school
Yu brukk de golden rule den say
Dat is so cool, others say yu fool, fool
Change, ah whey yu deh
Change is inevitable
Change ah go com
Matter of fact, whether we like it or not, change is here
Change is a must
Change is constant and it begins in us
Categories:
dialect, 12th grade, 9th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Silent One
build body life
in mind love
with me.
Empty One
grow full
with us NonZeros.
Contentious One
find content struggling back to flow
as far as a binomial Two
We's made a Me.
Static One
comprehend climatic co-arisings
within bipartisan MeWe.
Angry One
know fear of fear
as twining tree.
Chaotic One
comprehend
compassionate bicamerality.
Silent One
slow-grow resonant harmony
through health wealthing
I/Thou musicality.
Categories:
dialect, appreciation, beauty, blessing, community,
Form:
Lyric
I Walk into Bobby Department Store
And I yelled where are the Jamaican and Barbadian at?
This might sound a little weird to most,
however, it’s that time of the year,
when all the languages and the dialect merges
follow by the real country accent of them original place
Plus, some rudeness as their form long waiting lines
But to see the joy of Christmas
Still exist in their tone of voice
Christmas time is that one time of year
when you could be happy without
giving yourself any reasons. Quote
I could hear sentences like
I want to mail this barrel by next week
But I know they wouldn’t get it before next year
As an outside, listening in on stranger conversations
they might say to themselves
“What is this barrel they are talking about
A barrel of rum, a barrel of jack Daniel
A barrel of monkey, what barrel?
Yes Bubba! that barrel it filled with gift and food stuff
For their family on the Island of Brim
So, all I have to add to this is.....that
I am reminded that while New Yorkers say, "standing online,"
the rest of the English-speaking world says "standing in line. - Jeffrey Stein Garten quote.
Dark n Beautiful
Written by
Dark n Beautiful New York
Categories:
dialect, addiction, anger, anxiety, appreciation,
Form:
Blank verse
re-post inspired by Constance D form contest
A BUCKS BOY
Aye 'ee is fierce and hale.
Four mile to work,across the vale;
No slommakin' slattern 'ee,
Okkard as an itching flea.
Eee'd fetch hosses to boss's yard,
Garmed with mud,as thick as lard,
Cla'holt of 'em wiv a rope,
On is own,allus could cope.
Niver sees 'im vexed,or aggled,
Even if drenched and bedraggled;
In lightning 'e wore niver frit,
Though the whole sky wore fork-lit.
Grew peas that kidded well,
Allus 'ad a tale to tell.
In my local English Dialect
Categories:
dialect, childhood, language,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
We use to know
Howt o put thinggs down.
People gowin roundd,
Their lives tied behindt em by a spyne of brown strings.
You know we use to know howter kill cows
Wid the back af wharrever, hacking instrument hong at hande
D blunt end woul send your bovine friend awai
So she will not com back fora longg tyme.
So in that tyme as longe, you took excellent care ov her estaite
The horns and steaks te table ate
While shi's gone, til she returns
When you're old ant your world's all yor young wone learns
An told cow come back an says she, 'thanks'
'I appreciated the efficient dispatch'.
How she gloons to see them, kids completed
Kids that cow-Madame herself haz fedd.
And be it forehead uf god, or the middle of d brow of ya reldest cow,
We use to know
D special spots.
The places fork cortingg, and lovingg, and dyingg
The spot betweeain dose dopey grass-my-eyes,
Staring back at yer in e abattoir
Or th slightly reddedd board in d smokey olt barn.
And yu knew
That if you 'it that spot juss righ
D eyes die inside, no feel, no figh,
Wonn touch, noi much,
An owt went the lights.
Categories:
dialect, animal, dark, death, food,
Form:
Free verse