Best Noo 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:
noo, absence, culture, faith, farm,
Form:
Terza Rima
FrUm thE NUMB TuM Of A BuM RuM sPiL
L
L
S
hE sAyZ RUnUuM kILLZ the LIvEr
BUut LoVe KiLLZ mY HeARt
IvE CoNcluded ThAt thEIR Both
the ReasONZ I bEcAmE A BuM
FrUm ThE sTART
FrUm thE NUMB TuM Of A BuM RuM sPiL
L
L
S
(BuRp) CaNt wAit tO BEEE rICh aGAIN
AnD NoOo mAtteR hOW BiG hEr aSs is
I woOonT gEt mRried toO a GolD DIGGin
HarLeT AgAin NoO nOT AGaiN mY fRienD
bEcominG 1 WiHT ThE EsSeNce oF HuMbLe
POveRty IZ tHe The BesT wAy To EvaDe tHe
DeViLs traps WiZe & HuMble Are ThOse WHo
SeTtle foR whAt YOu wOuld CaaaLL ScrAPs &
KNowinG ONe DAy JESUS WILL COME B
A
C
A M R A - - - - - K
AnD WhEn He DoeS MY ONLY SIN wILL bE ConsumptioN Of rUM
sO yOU CAN LAuGH At at ummmmmmm
oh yea laugh at us DruKeN BuMMMMmms
BuT iN HeaveN We wIll HaVe morE ThAn a CrumB and A bottlE of rUm
AND wHeN tHe LoRD DenieS YOU at the gate please dont Ask how COME
Because he wiLl say yOU were
SelfisH,GREEDY,And called the
BuMS STInkyy and DuMMMMMM
And pluS aLL You gave Him WaS a CRUMMMM!!!
I SWEar you RicH Folks Are DuMMMMMMMMM!!!!
FrUm thE NUMB TuM Of A BuM RuM sPiL
L
L
S
with
T
R
U
T
H
Categories:
noo, life,
Form:
Free verse
Surely a country with it beauty is it wealth
Come visit not just the big city but it towns
Once you see the rustic charms they'll give
Take a tour through hills yon mighty glens
Life shouldn't be all bustle and strife relax
Awhile, visit the Isles, take a walk up braes
Nothing will fill your lungs like the fresh air
Depart noo oan yir journey have yir holiday
Categories:
noo, beautiful, beauty, holiday,
Form:
Acrostic
no one understands
what i go through everyday
everytime i have plans
they mess up in some way
making a video, hanging with my friends
playing on the computer or just having fun
all gets ruined
when he walks in
he ruins one of my things
so i yell at him
i make him come closer so he can hear
then he cries and throws a fit
i get in trouble and get grounded from something
he continues to torture, annoy, and yell at me
hes old enough to know not to and be punished fairley
but NOO i have to continue to live like this
girrrrrr
~Brittany Amsden~
Categories:
noo, brother
Form:
Oh noo' It has happened again.! I thought we had escaped the continual scene:
forever falling down, and ya know what people actually celebrate it..?
and we'd thought we were safe here) a place where you had sympathetic support,
ITS NO GOOD..! that's what it isn't..' at last here was a chance at last to get time to
create our own poems, after being famous for all this time..' and we never had the chance
of creating our own stuff..' at least when we were killed off out there it was only by the
cretins..! now it has happened here, its a spiritual thing, sob.' boo-hoo, I saw the
shadow though..! it was a pale one..and we felt a vindictive force, and then our whole
new world shattered.' I wonder how would some like it? you have been being pushed about since
1643, whoever did it must be a cold hearted and lonely person..' I remember reading
reading some lines somewhere about just such a writer, hmm..' and now I'm a ghost and its
all down to someone..! Dumpty...that is who I am now..And down in the dumps BUT I AM MAD
MAD MAD and determined..! I can get revenge, I shall snoop in on any soup mail & nasty remarks
and so on; I can do that because I am a ghost now..! we had such a hard life early on at
the abbey farm there was ole aunt Patricia she was strict always minding our p's & q's
for us always saying we didn't do enough, then after Dad left us 'I was hard' but I never wanted
to be lost and nasty like she was, oh she was a stickler for 'rules' pashaaaw...! never
changed her life though did they...? hmmm, what to do next.? I don't know though if I
really should go down that road, it would be a contradiction of all I have tried to live, by
even through that nasty war, right up to now I suppose..' look! if I became like that I would
probably be going around with a horrible hot anger inside me, it would be like a big heavy
stone where my heart should be..! Oh you know what I mean.! and what would I do next.?
after I track them down.. after, I DESTROY THEM UTTERLY))) what then old egg? I
don't know what to do I feel as if I am being 'almost coerced ' here.. and I've heard
about the other place..' its hot they say, with a big black iron round thing..' I don't think
I would like it there, Oh if only Humpty and Dumpty could be here together again..'
Categories:
noo, anti bullying,
Form:
Narrative
It's two thirty, there's a knock at my door
Hey, it's my neighbour, what's he here for
"it's so plucky of you!"
Playing my Bagpipes the noo
If I wasn't, then what are you here for
.
Categories:
noo, anxiety, home, life, music,
Form:
Limerick
Written in Scottish dialect.
Jack, Bernard and John, the Bandit Kings,
Hae handicaps wae too high.
Each o’ them score four points a hole,
Ah canna tell ye a lie!
Me, ah’m Rabbie, the bard o’ the course;
Ah’m lucky tae score yin point.
Ah feenish the game an’ come in fur a jar,
ma boadies awa’ oot o’ joint.
Jack, Bernard and John, coont up the scores,
Tae see which yin o’ them’s won.
Me ah look doon at ma pitifu’ caird.
"Nae guid wi’ a hunner an’ one."
Bernard says, "Jack what have you scored?"
In his posh Yorkshire dialect tone;
Jack’s lingo is great at a rugby club bash
But no’ sae guid oan the phone.
The Caverley Poond is played doon the last,
The lowest net score scoops the lot:
They’ve aw hit great drives right doon the middle;
Noo they wait for a shoat frae the Scot!
Ah dinna let them doon, ah’ve duffed ma ba’,
It’s flown fifty yairds, nae mair;
Ah tak’ oot ma five wid an’ gie it a heave
An’ they aw begin tae stare!
The ba’ flies superbly, as tho’ it had wings
An’ sails richt intae the hole!
Ah’m happy ah’ve taken these bandits doon,
At last ah’ve achieved ma first goal!
The moral o’ this tale is keep yer sporran zipped up
Dinna let them see a wee groat:
They’ll hatch oot a plan tae help themselves
Tae aw the shillin’s ye’ve goat!
Categories:
noo, friendship, funny, sports
Form:
Verse
TRIMDON GRANGE EXPLOSION *
( 16 FEB 1882, DURHAM, ENGLAND )
Noo March is heor and the wind she’s cowld *
But the sixty nine sowls divvent feel it - strange
Theor noo wheor they feel nee cowld and nivver get owld
Since they gave theor sowls at Trimdon Grange.
Last month on that bad sixteenth day
Owld Widow Burnett went to church to pray
For the three fine sons she once cherished
Noo, aal too soon, they hev aal perished
In thet dusty pit the rolleyways worn’t proper wattored *
And in the Harvey Seam - a thoosand foot doon
And three miles lang - that’s aal thet mattored.
The goaves * wor filled wi’ gas and the dust wes aal around.
They winnet be gannin yem nee maor *
Nor scrannin theor supper o’ pan hagglety *
Nor hengin theor coats yon under the staor
Nor scoffin theor bait and sugary tea
Wor footbaal tyem’s gannin tiv miss the lads
Joseph, Geordie, and James and the fower Broons
We’ll nivver forgit what gyems we had
And when we skelped Hartlepool Toon *
At Durham Big Meetin as the bands made a start
And the teams showed theor best to the crood
We were cowpin wor creels in the clart *
and shootin the odds o’ Hartlepool oot lood.
Oh weel, they left hame that morning to eorn theor daily bread;
Noo theor scrannin in a place where danger is nee maor.
Sixty nine men and boys wor numbered wi the dead.
Aye, death will pay us aal a visit : they hev ownly gone befaor.
…………………………………………………………………………
* One of the worst coal mining disasters in England
* The dialect is known as “Geordie” and is still widely known today in the UK. It
is the dialect of my own childhood, sadly now heavily overlain with standard English.
* Watering kept the explosive dust under control
* A goaf was a working gallery in the mine
* Pan hagglety - a fried mutton dish
* The Trimdon Grange soccer team beat Hartlepool’s team the previous year.
* They won’t be going home any more
* Doing somersaults on the muddy ground
Categories:
noo, death, history,
Form:
Verse
Am a lass fae Govan
There a wiz born n breid
When a wiz wee a wiz playing tig on the dykes
N a split ma poor wee heid
Fae Glesga to Fife
Wiz where we went
To a flat in Methil
That ma maw goat fur rent
To skool a went like
A scaredey cat, didny know wit ti expect
2nd year it the high skool
Wiz a bit eh a pain in the neck
Home eckie wiz the class
A wanted it to be fun
Skool went well n a started wurk
Tull a wiz cooking a bun
Am a mammy eh 3 noo
Bit wit kin a say?
A replaced the telly
Nae mare tumbles in the hay
Ma weans are getting big fast
Aw gawn ti skool their self
But if a dont shake ma **** now
A might get left oan the shelf
Categories:
noo, adventure,
Form:
Verse
"ONE
“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!”
i tick the trickling time of your heart
set in a fast paced, rat raced end of nought
burying your precious life for my rise of worthless death
in traitor riches of an annihilating amassment
and you lose his gain for my vain
forever lost in the hell of my heart in eyes
rich reddest ripe
trickling slowly fast the sweetest hate within seen.
TWO
the sweetness of terror
in the deepness of horror
shrinks my ink in fright of freeze
behold
callous craftiness in cunning cuff of call
of tempting taste of a sense’s sensuous fall
an invite of worms womb rich in pregnant rot
of delicious decay blind in a mind’s fold of nought
takes a guided, guarded watch of a self destruct
onwards a chill of feet, six in plan of instruct
oh! where is the angel of sorrow
to bellow the looming loss of a tomorrow?
life is in a serious cell of “OH NOO!!!”
and heavens’ eyes rains a cat and dog of flow.
THREE
never scream your frightened prayers at me
whose mouth made a dross toss of my heart and hands
and killed my voice in horror of rich rot pleasures of pukes
never seek for my unseen oblivion please
for I have been buried in your long lust lost
of the eyes, flesh and heart
his eyes, flesh and heart
the time ticks a harvest of gory
and its sickle sicks a pleasure of dark story;
never be high pitched at its deep simile throat seek
and never rumble a resonating quake of its fear feast
for the reward is black ripe of a red hot sorrowing
and hades hungers hell fill in a piercing thrill kill
so,
let your begging prayers go
let six feet of summon do as told
let my drossed oblivion wave your bye of sorrow
let hades have its meal of nasty shudders, cold.
THE CROSS. MY DROSS.
THE LOSS. MY TOSS."
Categories:
noo, dark, death, grave,
Form:
Free verse
My Mother
Mary Ann Dow Gardiner
Mary Ann Dow Stuart wis her maiden name,
Noo, she wisnae a Scoatish Lass o' fame.
Born in nineteen hunner an' five on the fifth o' May.
gorgeous she wis' at oany time o' the day.
Like aw Mums, she wis a'ways there,
nae ither Mum a ken kin 'onestly compare.
Noo am no telling yea ivery instance o' her life,
An' let's say, tae ma faither Jack she wis the perfict wife.
Wan instance in time with you I wid like tae share,
aye durin' WWII ma an' me hid quite a scare.
It wis a chapter in ma life as a wee wee boy,
stull in ma nappies an' playin' wae toys.
We lived in a twa roomed tenement flat,
six folks an' Bonny wee Tibby the cat.
Noo the oanly way tae hiv a bath,
wis in a tin wan ,which wis three foot wan inch, an' a half.
Noo this bath wis oanly fur this wee lad yea see,
an' it wis dragged oot in front o' the windae jist afore tea.
Noo tea in oor hoose wis aboot six o'clock at night,
an' a luved ma bath an' niver pit up a fight.
It wis oan a very dark an' a very quiet winter's night,
aye the night Ma an' me hid a terrible blidy fright.
Suddenly we were in the middle o' a German air-raid,
the smile oan ma ma's face quickly began tae fade.
She climbed up oan the bunkers sink tae hiv a look,
twa seconds she's up there that's aw it took.
Pulled back the blackoot tae see the night sky,
oh my god ma ma let oot this fearsum' cry.
She heard the whistle o' a German Bomb startin' tae fall,
an' she thocht it might jist pay us twa a call.
The whistle o' that fearsum bomb got louder then stopped,
ma mum fell backwards an' oan tap o' this wee boy did flop.
Aye, right oan tap o' this wee naked Body in the said tin bath,
wan minit her scream an' that enormous crash.
That's why noo I hiv a flat head an' am eternally daft,
naw folks a dinny blame yea fur hivin' a laff.
It's funny noo but no fur mum at that time,
jings droapin' bombs oan wummin an' wee bairns is surely a terrible crime,
As fur that Gerry bomb it did land wae a lot of malice,
jist up the road in Edinburgh's Holyrood palace.
The Auld Yin.
Categories:
noo, dedication, night, me, night,
Form:
Quatrain
Hello yea bonny wee pawky thing,
sittin' there tuggin' at ma hert strings.
Aye yer wee ,an' oan yer oan yer hard tae see,
niver mind wee thing jist let it be.
Withoot you, we wid hae a scunnered land,
aye wee thing yea think yer oanly a wan man band,
Help tho' is niver sae far away,
life's dramas are nae a'ways dark an' grey.
Yer mair important than yea think,
mair important than oanything that's gone extinct.
Withoot you an' aw yer like kind.
this wurld wid be in a massive bind.
So wee thing get rid o' that pawky look,
yer really a giant in oany history book.
Since the beginning, you have been there to provide,
so yer wee sel,' behind a bushel please dinny hide.
Yer no' stonnin' there oan yer oan yea ken,
yea hiv hunners an' hunners o' ither frien's.
Oan iv'ry country an' continent yea hav' many kin.
fur eons an eons that's a'ways bin.
Dayin' yer very very important job,
so ma wee courin' thing dinny sob.
Be a happy pert o' this wurld sae great,
yer up there in lights, aye wee thing, that's yer fate.
Yer fate tae provide fur aw this world's life,
withoot yer life givin' skills, we wid be in strife.
Naw !!no' in strife, cos wee widnae be here,
so ma bonny wee pawky thing, ston' up an' cheer.
Ston' up ston' up, fur heaven's sake,
Ston' up ston' up, a great bow, please take.
Nae langer be a wee quiet gentle pawky thing,
cos great nourishing life you duly bring.
Oh ah ken it's no oan yer oan yea achieve sae much,
miracles oan yer oan there is really nonesuch.
But wae aw yer mullins an' mullians oh kin yea have,
yea kin feed them aw, like the proverbial fatted calf.
Yea see noo, yer nae langer a wee pawky thing,
wae aw yer greenie pals tae the world , greatness yea bring.
Taegither yea will clan, an' nae langer be a wan man band,
wae aw yer kin an' their amazin' skills at hand.
Aw yea amazin' wee verdant clever thing,
yea ken noo join wae yer pals tae bring.
Feed the masses aw aroon the world,
let yer flag of knowledge be unfurled.
Yea thocht yea wir jist a wee singular thing,
but now yea ken yer pals arrr 'around, tae bring.
Aye, aw yer pals, arr' a touch o' class,
nae langer ma wee thing are yea jist wan wee blade o' grass.
The Auld Yin.
Categories:
noo, nature, life,
Form:
Quatrain
A luv ma life sae full o' joy,
I keep ma interests at full employ.
Each day fur me is sic' delight,
every day, aw' day an' ivery night.
I go tae bed an' lay doon ma heid,
aye richt efter ma supper feed.
Ma thochts are o' beautiful things,
an' tae ma wee brain sic' pleasure brings.
Ah even dream afore ah sleep,
aye, ah do, afore a count those sheep.
Aw' the happy things that has been ma day,
ma wife,ma daughter, sons an' all things ofay.
I'm lucky growing plants is my joy,
auld as I am noo, an' since a boy.
Saft , verdant, vibrant, aw' kinds o' colour,
that grow in winter, spring, autumn an' summer.
I luv sculpture as weel as ma bonny plants,
an' aboot them ah very oaften rant.
An' a luv ma Gairden that's foo o' life,
sno' though, as luvly as ma Bonny wife.
An' ma bairns gei me luvly dreams,
aw life's great, thats what is deemed.
So when ma heid has passed tae sleep,
aw thay luvly thoughts ma soul dis keep.
When I awake frae ma gentle dreams,
wae that first gentle saft sunbeam.
Am oot o' bed like lightnin' jack,
an' oaf tae work wae ma luncheon pack.
Workin' among aw ma bonny fluers,
ah tend no' tae notice ma wurkin 'oors.
Of back noo ,tae ma ain luvly hame,
luvly , 'cos nae ither hoose wid feel the same.
Ma ither joy is cookin' fur aw ma folks,
an' I'll no' mention ma luv fur jokes.
Then there is ma luv in writin' poems each day,
am sure oan FanStory yea arrr' aw' ofay.
A guid night wae aw' ma kin beside,
ma happy face yea canny hide.
Hae ma supper then tae bed I go,
thinking beautiful things, Aye, that is so.
The Auld Yin.
Categories:
noo, life, happy, beautiful, autumn,
Form:
Quatrain
Batid ko, sa taghoy ng katahimikan mo
Bakas sa ihip ng hangin ang nakakunot na noo,
Samyo ng nagbabagang hangin ng AGAM-AGAM
Hindi mapigilang sakit ng di malamang pakiramdam.
Ipinako ang paningin sa palubog na araw
Malamlam na panginoorin, kulay ay mapanglaw,
Linlang ng AGAM-AGAM, paniniwala'y nauupos
Katulad ng malungkot na paglubog ng araw, liwanag ay nawala nang lubos!
Puso'y kinurot ng dilim, hatid ay ligalig
Di mawari kung saan susuling, nabibingi ang pandinig,
Umuukilkil sa diwa, AGAM-AGAM ng pag-ibig
Ako ba o siya, tayo na ba o hindi pa?
Saan ka dadalhin ng AGAM-AGAM?
Sa kawalang pag-asa ba at hayaang hangarin ay maparam?
Iwasan na lamang ba at huwag nang lumaban
Maniwala sa AGAM-AGAM na sa puso ay nakadagan?
Ahhh...tanong ni JR, tila kulay ng mundo mo'y may bahid ng lungkot?
Umiibig ka, wika mo, subalit mata mo'y mapanglaw, tila may takot,
Halakhak mo'y may bahid ng AGAM-AGAM
Tula na akda mo'y may guhit alinlangan sa pakiramdam.
Hmn...Ang umibig ay dakila, wagas na adhika
Hatid nito'y ligaya, nilulunod ang katauhang nagpaparaya,
Subalit malungkot ang umibig sa taong ang minamahal ay hindi makasama
Pupunuin ng AGAM-AGAM ang pusong umaasa!
AGAM-AGAM...Saan ka dadalhin nito, kaibigan?
Di nga ba't walang paglagyang AGAM-AGAM saiyo'y nakapasan?
Marahil ay hindi sapat ang namutawing pag-ibig na may katiyakan
Hindi mapapawi ng mga kataga ang AGAM-AGAM o ang alinlangan!
AGAM-AGAM ng puso, pakiusap...ako ay iwan mo.
Inner Whispers
Categories:
noo, conflict, confusion, feelings, love,
Form:
Lyric
This is based on a story about David 'Deacon' Brown The Open Golf Champion of 1886 at
Musselburgh, Scotland.
Davy wis a genius
at climbin' up an' doon.
A chimney sweep o' sure repute
frae Musselburgh Toon.
He won The British Open
in 1886;
Ah'm share awbody whae wis there
thocht it wis a fix!
The Championship Officials
had a player oot o' sync.,
So they thocht o' 'Deacon' Broon,
A player whae'd played the Links.
They fund him up a chimney,
Cleanin' oot the Lum.
They washed him an' they claithed him
An' filled his achin' tum.
The course wis fu' o' champions
linin' up that day.
'Deacon' mumbled tae hissel',
"Weel ah'm jist here tae play!"
He played his gowf wi' panache
an' beat them at their game:
"Ah'm the world's best chimney sweep
an' that is NOO, ma claim tae fame!"
Copyright Robert Cartwright-Davidson February 2009
Categories:
noo, funny, sports
Form:
Verse