Scotland Poems

Chain Letters as Desire

Instant the command 
As decisions 
In labouring the fields
A civil war of family's avoiding 
Yet the enactments mimic
As bond as surety 
In financing burdens
One wishes not to carry
Carriage as stable
Nightingales lost fables
Ferry in twist 
Smirking gentle and smits

To the good Friday of Ireland

This Is What It Feels Like

a stranger in familiar land     
                                          my blood
too sings from the cracks 
of cobbled

Scotland

I couldn't give a toss for the caber
cromach bagpipes sporran or kilt
(a fling's the thing)
and you can stick your dirk in your haggis
up to its bog-wood hilt
yet I'd like to hike through the heather
on happy Sassenach holidays
see the scenery admire the view
along Scottish hilly highways and byways
to pick a pink-purple thistle or two
and should I

Thistle and steel

The heather weeps, a purple bruise,
Across the glens, the chilling news.
No bagpipes drone a mournful sound,
But sirens wail on hallowed ground.
A thistle bleeds, its prickling crown,
As innocence is stricken down.
Young eyes, once bright with Highland fire,
Now gleam with something dark and dire.
The steel they flash, a twisted boast,
A stolen childhood, dearly lost.
Each shadowed lane, a

Its vandalisam, its more than uncouth'

Let me recount of the mirrored alcoves galleries of brands
Whiskeys deep gold many types of bottles into optic feeds
Highly polished bar timbertops rich shining deep.' Varied
Paper coasters to keep it pristene, bowls of cheese squares crackers at the side, the sent of a recent cleaning
Greetings warm when you stepped inside.' The old
Hearth with a brass

Everything and no one

I gaze at the Highlands’ mountains and try to force myself to feel joy in its entirety.  
But I can’t.  
Look how beautifully the sun plays on the rocks like its pressing keys: white for light, black for darkness.  
And who am I? Darkness, light? Half-shadow? Twilight?  
I am a cloud.

It Rains in Scotland

When it rains in Scotland, 
It reminds me of home. 
I see the scattered raindrops
making their way down the
window, if it were home, they 
would graciously enter in. 

When it rains in Scotland,
It takes me back to that 
August afternoon 3 years back,
the raindrops danced at the tune
of love, it wasn’t home but it
felt like

Raggle Taggle Gypsy

Raggle Taggle gypsy boy
born somewhere different
in the countryside, though
not far from a big city.

Hanzi, at the age of eight
he used to live as a gypsy boy,
going from here to there 
and everywhere.
He has never had the chance 
to go to school, but he loved to dance, 
sing and playing the bagpipes.
His father used to take

Scotland My Home

Scotland, My Home

Scotland, my home, where I was born and bred
Where the saltire flies high above my head
Where the bagpipes sound and the kilts are worn
Where the haggis tastes and the whisky warms

Scotland, my home, where the history runs deep
Where the brave and the bold their freedom did keep
Where the clans and the kings their

I Refuse to Teach Macbeth When It's Forty Degrees Outside

King Duncan wouldn't allow it
Chin sweat and air conditioning 
Sending me into a linguistic shaming spiral

Flavoursome mints and sparkling water
Won't fix this wet nightmare
Telling the steps to SHUT UP

Sock sniffer
Chemical bomb leather shoes
Armpits oceaning

Give me Nigeria 
Or the jungle
Where the birds don't sing

My wife has been reading The Return of the Native for ten years
But

400 conejos

chill howls 
slit needles 
from firs
and steer whimsy puffs
to shade the moon
like accordion blinds

summer's last
dying gasps
just below the treeline

snippity 
snap dragon 
spits sparks
in the dark

doesn't threaten me
but don't want to be
run down by a grizzly 
or chased by a moose

just want to be 
here with Groot
and 400 Conejos*

you know
all those stone circles in Scotland 
were

A Scottish Location

A bonnie wee place, Drummore.
Just aff the Galloway Shore. 
A stoat and a fish.
Their signature dish. 
A bonnie wee place Drummore.

The Very Weird And Wonderful World Of Place Names: UK And US Edition

I: THE UK

Poling, Patching, Nether Wallop, 
Matching Tye and Droop

Plumpton, Lickfold, Puddletown, 
Westward Ho! and Throop.

Hole of Horcum, New Invention,
Boghead, Bath, Cat's Ash

North Piddle, Staines and Pen*stone,
Wash Dyke, East Breast and Flash.

Six Mile Bottom, Mudford Sock,
Wetwood, Wetwang, Hose

Catbrain, Assloss, No Man's Land, 
Didling, Lower Rose.

Blubberhouses, Giggleswick, 
Sheepy Magna, Splott

Climping, Crudwell, Lickey End, 
Queen Camel, Picklescott.

Bareleg

I Think I Love You, Dad

A hero to a little boy,
Smartest man in the world, so full of joy.
Big HOUSE! Big beard. Big Family! Big belly!!
“I love you son.” “I love you too, Dad”.

A whole different place,
Confusion wins the race.
One night, a big fright. Discovery leads to recovery
“I love you, I promise.” “I love you too, Dad”

A fresh new family,
A

A Pilgrimage

seagulls surf the wind
my escorts home
across the waves

                  streamlined gannets
                   sacred isle in view 
     

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