Grounding pounding wanna grab
Jousty jack wanna stab
Anger clutching his mind
Crack spouting nonsense
Idiotic ineffable reason
The conflict season..
Note.Nonsense makes no sense..
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they bring thur minarets,mosques and imams
An' ower the city sound the muezzins' prayer alarms
An' they mak great play o' daein' Ramadan
An' profit frae sellin liquor they themselves ban
Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they wrap thur wummin in niqab and burqa
An' insist oan usin' the courts Sharia
An' don't let ye mak jokes aboot the prophet
An' tell ye ,if ye dae,ye'd better come aff it
Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they chant"Allahu Akbar" wi' thur guns in thur fists
An' blaw thumsels up wi' thur suicide vests
An' aw this efter shootin' hunners ae us
An' blamin' the West fur aw ae the fuss
Haw Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
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
Thir montins that stooid beffoir me
Ma lassie milk soumes breasts
Ah leid upoun heir ballye ye sei
Fir the displey uv heir peaks are the best
Ma lassie ballye moves up and doon
As the watters on the occeane
Bwte thir fyrmeness if ma lassie’s mounds
And ma lassie’s nosthrils blaw betwixt them a coul wynd
Ah knou theer ayre seevan wondirs
Thir warld is prude tae shaw
Bwte thir onis thit ah laye undyr
Na oni ells wull evir knou
Original poem:
The mountains that stood before me
Her creamy white breasts
I lay upon a belly you see
For the view of her summits are the best
Her belly moves up and down
As the waters on the seas
But the stillness of her mounds
And her nostrils blow between them a cool breeze
I know there are seven wonders
The world it proud to show
But the ones that I lay under
No one else will ever know
(Sista's Bloody Sista's/ England, Scotland, Wales & Ireland. Deborah Guzzi contest)