Glasgow Poems | Examples

Fiver

Echoes 

off tenement windows,

sound mixed 

with fluttering glimpses 

of fake hanging ghosts.



Perhaps 

we’re only just 

remembering, or 

noticing how much 

we usually forget. 



For a fiver I can get 

some rides on the outer

or inner, more 

tenement windows, 

more music. 



I take a puff 

outside Partick 

station, then go about 

my business 

with a grin.

Buckfast

Breaking hours,
light flickering 
between gray torrents, 
restrained luminosity. 
(otherwise too glorious)

Oh but your shine 
when I see, dazzling 
of it’s own volition, 
your introspection 
so damn zen. 
(no axe to grind)

It seems as if 
you’re waiting with such 
pretty nonchalance, 
you couldn’t care 
less if I notice.
(quintessential bliss)

Like last week 
‘cross an aisle 
on clocky orange, 
I pretended 
not to notice you, 
took your picture.
(due to vibrancy)

And last night
at the bus stop,
and again at the new 
restaurant, a man
held you tightly 
while he grinned. 
(the one in Southside)

F**** !
I don’t wanna like you 
but I kinda like you. 
Accepting providence 
of what comes easy- you! 
With your tales 
of life’s shake downs 
and full-throttle bends, 
oh emerald bottle 
(of Buckfast) you win!

Fox and Hounds

quick brown urban fox
dodges howling hounds from hell
crossing motorway

For Just Living In Glasgow

Jeff’s dull life began to glow,
His Jeff’s weight to around throw,
Great winds telling when to blow;
Tap asking to again flow…
Wasted years in Canada
And USA’s Nevada,
Though, there, had driven Prada
And chance had to love Sandra…

He’d wanted to try Norway
And Mum fought it with “No way?”
You’d better in Warm zones stay
And profit from Sunny Day…

Some years in Nicaragua
And he could just buy Jaguar,
Learn that water is Agua,
And the Human Tongue Lengua,
Where upon he chose Glasgow
And his mum with smiles said “Go!”

The Glasgow Laird

The drunk hogs the path where the public walks
Then hogs the air with his nonsense talk
His breath smells of ale
His eyes look stale 
This Scottish male
In a Scottish gale
Just gets wet
Along with his pet
His unkempt dog
As white as the fog
Feeds him a chip
Gives it some lip
He thinks he is hip 
And knows it all
That he's on the ball
Then staggers and falls
Can't walk but crawls 
On his all fours
He doesn't care
This Glasgow Laird
Who thinks his world isn't fair 
For tomorrow he will call into the bank
Take out some cash from the Governments tank
Then he can go back to the house
That will sell him more Guinness stout
And stand outside on the same old street
Where the cold will numb his directionless feet. 


Christmas shopping in Glasgow. 6 drunk men hogged the footpath in the cold rain. They didn't realise all the people who could get passed with getting soaked. 

Laird is a Scottish word, derived from "Lord". It is the owner of the property.

Greta's Glasgow Gripe

I wanted to traipse in the desert
But sand dunes were in the way
I went to ski in the mountains
But snow blocked the pass that day

It seems Mother Earth has a game
That she really loves to play
Forget about YOUR calendar
To Mother Earth, today is PAY DAY!

A Glesga Setterday Nicht

“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted 
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,

©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.

The Glasgow One Is Best

kisses are polymorphic
for one can seal a friendship
or give loves birth
given as a cold goodbye
or a token of hope given
some biblically betray
some drag life back
but my favourite
is local born

Deer Rest Glasgow

Another dreary journey down deaths highway
The daily life of cursed work
Outside Glasgows fair kiss
The free tv shows views as cars driven by the undead squeeze past
The grubby bus window that no one seems to use
All heads in prayer to the constructed deity
Creators of a binary god
My eyes survey a barren space of kermit green
and mud filled divots 
And as if positioned by a godlike hand
A family of dearest deer 
unspoiled and prohuman glisten from sunlights kiss 
A miracle not that a wonderful moment in
a day of unlived life
But as we pass another moment holds hand with the moment before
A boy surgically attatched to his phone and headphones
Catches sight of deer a frolic
And unopposed and unreserved a smile lit his face
And the bones that slowly kill me
loosen for a breath
And a scottish poet finds inpiration and a warmth inside his chest

Monument To Sir Walter Scott - Glasgow

Nigh on ninescore year hae I
Preside o'er thaes city faer
But i' shoundna be me on thaes stule
In Mad King Gaerge's Squaer

In life a saemple claerk o' law 
Who frae Edinburrah hael
'nd 's kent tae woo thae lasses
Wi' an auld ramaentic tael

Naw I set upon mae paerch
'nd watch Glaswegians pass
'nd time again mae eye doth fix
Upon a bonny lass

Thaer be but one wee aeggravation
I 'ud gladly tae shed
Faer I'ud rathaer dae wi'out
Thae seagael on mae haed

August 25, 2017

Glasgow

Glasgow 
The music stopped abruptly dancers left the floor 
became paintings on the wall in the closed down dance-hall
in Glasgow`s Sauciehal street the old entertainment centre.
We drank plenty of beer before going there, and we were frisked
to see if we had not brought any alcohol into the premises.
To ask a young woman up to dance was painful
The answer was often no, to be refused hurt one’s self- esteem 
but luckily there was only one or two who said yes,
the ugly ones were the best to ask they were not so critical.
Later in the evening a few open chip shops and hopefully with
a new girl -friend one then followed to the last bus a kiss and
a cuddle a few promise murmured it was all too boring for word.
Glasgow had many splendid pubs I liked to sit drink and smoke
in one of them, the one nearest the docks.  I remember at these
pubs some elderly women drank gin & lime they were called 
donkey women and I never knew why.
The old dance halls have got a patina of romance where 
Friendly ghosts soberly dance to the tune of a bygone time.

A Glasgow Blow-Up

Six blocks of flats were detonated yesterday in Glasgow, 
But only four fell down and tumbled to the ground:
The Red Road tower blocks, once the tallest in Europe,
Were the place where 5000 lived without a sound. 

Five were to be demolished as part of the Opening Ceremony, 
Of the 2014 Commonwealth Games, 
But the real living worth and sentimental value of the homes, 
Prevented the Council from airing their redevelopment aims. 
 
The Glasgow Housing Association had to be sensitive, 
To what the development and building of new flats meant, 
That many would have to be evicted and relocated, 
From the homes in which they relaxed and dreamt. 

So now, in October 2015, the Association cleared the area, 
For a more private demolition to take place without television, 
But only two-thirds of the job was done as two flats still teetered,
So there’s an independent review with a look rather beleaguered.    


12th of October 2015

See Scotsman news article 
http://www.scotsman.com/news/scotland/top-stories/red-road-flats-2-500-return-home-after-failed-demolition-1-3913725#axzz3oLT4Dlw1

The Road Home From Glasgow Airport

The road home from Glasgow airport
Tyres in front crying on my windscreen
Combine with the pain from the dark clouds 
That blanket the horizon 
Make a misty view.

Hard to see
The wipers cannae keep up.

A difficult road to drive
Many lanes to cross
Many emotions to deal with.

Getting closer to home.
Less tyre spray
Clouds breaking up.

I'll see him again.

Summer Moon Over Glasgow

Summer moon over Glasgow
Driving down the M8
20 degrees shows on the dashboard
Who cares if I get home late.

The ball of orange hangs in the sky
Looks bigger this time of night
Hovers above the Glesga high rise
And reflects in the River Clyde.

Though the moon begins to rise
The canvassed sky is still bright
The painted picture shows how God smiles
At half ten in the summer night.

But That Is Life In Glasgow

The impressive buildings on the Glasgow sky
Compliment life on the River Clyde
With its many secrets it cannot hide
But that is life in Glasgow.

From the understated Squinty Bridge
And George Square to Buchanan Street
Makes it hard for a "Weegie" to leave
But that is life in Glasgow.

A "Weegie" takes the good and bad
Supporting a British with Scottish flag
And tension flows between the clans
But that is life in Glasgow.

It's music and it's celebrity stars
Do not hide its gangster past
No such thing as a "Weegie" facade.
But that is life in Glasgow.

Glasgow life gets under your skin
The richness of a life it brings
A melting pot of good and sin
But that is life in Glasgow.

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