"heid" poems - Hello Poetry

An ither Burns night, Has finally come alang, If you've got an invite, You'll hae to sing a song, You'll soon be reciting poems, Wi a whisky in one hand, A haggis in the ither, You'll be feeling mighty grand, Daein wan o Rabbies, Or wan you've writ yersel, Gie it public airing, You'll hae us in a spell, Once the night's ower, Poems spinning round yer heid, Burns night is for aw body, It's a pity that he's deid.

0

Jan 25, 2015

Jan 25, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC

raymond-dickson

An ither Burns night

An ither Burns night, Has finally come alang, If you've got an invite, You'll hae to sing a song, You'll soon be reciting poems, Wi a whisky in one hand, A haggis in the ither, You'll be feeling mighty grand, Daein wan o Rabbies, Or wan you've writ yersel, Gie it public airing, You'll hae us in a spell, Once the night's ower, Poems spinning round yer heid, Burns night is for aw body, It's a pity that he's deid.

16

I'm just back frae The Kirk Doon Canongate way, Afore yi get tae Parliament, That was brand new yesterday, Way back tae the 1700's A poet in his grave, Fergusson the poetry man, He couldnae be saved, Banging his heid in a fa' Tumbling doon a' the steps, Hadnae sterted livin' yet, His poetry had some depth, Rab trained as a minister, He abandoned fir poetry, At the age of twenty two, With no heart for the ministry, He took a job as a copyist, Tae earn a crust tae live, Probably hated it, So much poetry for tae give, If he wis alive the today, He'd be pertying in Ibiza, DJing wi' the discs, Rapping like a geeza, He was only 24, At Cape Club he'd dae a gig, I'm sure he enjoyed himsel', It's something that he did, After the fa', Darkly melancholic, Depression followed, He wisnea an alcoholic, Straight to Edina's loony bin, Then ca'd Darien House, On Bristo Street used to stand, Can't think what'd be worse, He was born in 1750, Died penniless in '74 Unmarked grave in Canongate, Nae headstane was in store, Many years later, Head stane was selected, Rabbie Burns inspired, Was paid fir an' erected, The date upon the stane was wrong, Hopefully wis being changed, By Robert Louis Stevenson, But died before old age, Grave is now restored, Tae it's former glory, Ironwork and stane cleaned, But it's no the end o' story, A statue wis erected, On the street ootside the Kirk, The way they positioned him, He's on his way tae work, You'll see the Parliament building, If you wander doon the road, Poems and poetry on the wa's But none in Fergusson mode, It seems he's been forgotten, In this day and age, Someone with his talent, Wan o' Edina's greatest sage, Let's hope we'll see his poetry, On Scotland's parliament wa, I dinae mean graffiti, I mean poetry fir a'.

0

Jan 2, 2015

Jan 2, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC

raymond-dickson

Young Robert Fergusson

I'm just back frae The Kirk Doon Canongate way, Afore yi get tae Parliament, That was brand new yesterday, Way back tae the 1700's A poet in his grave, Fergusson the poetry man, He couldnae be saved, Banging his heid in a fa' Tumbling doon a' the steps, Hadnae sterted livin' yet, His poetry had some depth, Rab trained as a minister, He abandoned fir poetry, At the age of twenty two, With no heart for the ministry, He took a job as a copyist, Tae earn a crust tae live, Probably hated it, So much poetry for tae give, If he wis alive the today, He'd be pertying in Ibiza, DJing wi' the discs, Rapping like a geeza, He was only 24, At Cape Club he'd dae a gig, I'm sure he enjoyed himsel', It's something that he did, After the fa', Darkly melancholic, Depression followed, He wisnea an alcoholic, Straight to Edina's loony bin, Then ca'd Darien House, On Bristo Street used to stand, Can't think what'd be worse, He was born in 1750, Died penniless in '74 Unmarked grave in Canongate, Nae headstane was in store, Many years later, Head stane was selected, Rabbie Burns inspired, Was paid fir an' erected, The date upon the stane was wrong, Hopefully wis being changed, By Robert Louis Stevenson, But died before old age, Grave is now restored, Tae it's former glory, Ironwork and stane cleaned, But it's no the end o' story, A statue wis erected, On the street ootside the Kirk, The way they positioned him, He's on his way tae work, You'll see the Parliament building, If you wander doon the road, Poems and poetry on the wa's But none in Fergusson mode, It seems he's been forgotten, In this day and age, Someone with his talent, Wan o' Edina's greatest sage, Let's hope we'll see his poetry, On Scotland's parliament wa, I dinae mean graffiti, I mean poetry fir a'.

68

Ah wuz lookin oot o' mah winder and ah saw this lad wi' a barry wee lassie gaun' up the hill. -Wair the **** d'ye think you're gaun tae? ah yells oot. But the daft ***** didnae answer at aww, must've been oot o' thir ****** heids wi' E's or summat, d'ye ken what ah'm tellin' ye,ye daft radge? -Wair ye're ******* going? ah yells a couple mair times and finally the gadge yells back to ays, -Up the ******* hill tae fetch a pail o' ******* watter, me Ma's hud her fuckin' taps turned oaf by the fuckin' Corporation, which is a ******* pain in the erse ah had ter agree. I realised ah knew the wee **** Jack but, eh wuz an auld classmate of ays and eh's hung oot wi' ma brar n me, when we wuz bairns oan the Scheme,eh? -That's a bonny wee lassie ye've goat wi' ye, there Jack, ah yelled, thinking ah'd nae kick her oot o' mah scratcher withoot gi'ing her a guid ride. Ah huvtae sey ah recognised hir as a wee **** called Jill from the Scheme, a right tidy wee ride in mah opinion wi' a guid little ***** on hir, as ah recall. -Mind ye're own fuckin' business, the **** yells back at ays, takin' the pail in yin hand and the hoor's wee hand in the other yin. Ah can tell ye ah totally pished meself wi' laughter when the pair o' they wide ***** fell doon, Jack breakin' his fuckin' croon n the groond, ah'm sure he nivver meant it tae happen, 'n eh mustae squashed his ******* bawws as eh fell doon n aww from the wey he screamed oot, but the wee lassie cam tumbling doon the ****** hill n aww, heid n **** oor her fuckin' erse 'n ah could see she wasnae wearin' any ****** ******* 'n her ***** was on display under her skirt. Ah wouldnae expect anything else from a wee hoor,eh? -Dinnae worry, ah'll com and help ye, ah called oot, but when ah goat thir, both o them wis deid, ah thoat o' gittin mah hole wi' the deid lassie n aww, but you shouldnae dae that, it's no respectful tae wimmin, 'n eywis, the polis might trace me through the DNA, those ***** are clivvir 'n aw, ye ken. So ah contented mesel' wi' rummidging through the poakits o' the lad's jaykit tae see if eh hud ehs payment from the Joab Centre, but the daft **** mustae spent it aww on a boatil or two o Grants, ah ken ah'd hae done the same mahsel'. And there wasnae a penny in the lassie's purse, so ah thoat ah'd jus' **** oaf doon the ****** 'n ask some **** tae call the hoaspital and the ****** polis. Eh?

0

Dec 16, 2014

Dec 16, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC

edna-sweetlove

Hillspoatin'

Ah wuz lookin oot o' mah winder and ah saw this lad wi' a barry wee lassie gaun' up the hill. -Wair the **** d'ye think you're gaun tae? ah yells oot. But the daft ***** didnae answer at aww, must've been oot o' thir ****** heids wi' E's or summat, d'ye ken what ah'm tellin' ye,ye daft radge? -Wair ye're ******* going? ah yells a couple mair times and finally the gadge yells back to ays, -Up the ******* hill tae fetch a pail o' ******* watter, me Ma's hud her fuckin' taps turned oaf by the fuckin' Corporation, which is a ******* pain in the erse ah had ter agree. I realised ah knew the wee **** Jack but, eh wuz an auld classmate of ays and eh's hung oot wi' ma brar n me, when we wuz bairns oan the Scheme,eh? -That's a bonny wee lassie ye've goat wi' ye, there Jack, ah yelled, thinking ah'd nae kick her oot o' mah scratcher withoot gi'ing her a guid ride. Ah huvtae sey ah recognised hir as a wee **** called Jill from the Scheme, a right tidy wee ride in mah opinion wi' a guid little ***** on hir, as ah recall. -Mind ye're own fuckin' business, the **** yells back at ays, takin' the pail in yin hand and the hoor's wee hand in the other yin. Ah can tell ye ah totally pished meself wi' laughter when the pair o' they wide ***** fell doon, Jack breakin' his fuckin' croon n the groond, ah'm sure he nivver meant it tae happen, 'n eh mustae squashed his ******* bawws as eh fell doon n aww from the wey he screamed oot, but the wee lassie cam tumbling doon the ****** hill n aww, heid n **** oor her fuckin' erse 'n ah could see she wasnae wearin' any ****** ******* 'n her ***** was on display under her skirt. Ah wouldnae expect anything else from a wee hoor,eh? -Dinnae worry, ah'll com and help ye, ah called oot, but when ah goat thir, both o them wis deid, ah thoat o' gittin mah hole wi' the deid lassie n aww, but you shouldnae dae that, it's no respectful tae wimmin, 'n eywis, the polis might trace me through the DNA, those ***** are clivvir 'n aw, ye ken. So ah contented mesel' wi' rummidging through the poakits o' the lad's jaykit tae see if eh hud ehs payment from the Joab Centre, but the daft **** mustae spent it aww on a boatil or two o Grants, ah ken ah'd hae done the same mahsel'. And there wasnae a penny in the lassie's purse, so ah thoat ah'd jus' **** oaf doon the ****** 'n ask some **** tae call the hoaspital and the ****** polis. Eh?

47

Eh like playin fitba wee meh Dad, It's so funny and a wee bit sad 'Cause when eh beat him he gets mad. Eh like playin fitba wee meh wee lassie, She plays fitba like Shirley Bassey, Meh Dad canny tackle, he's so mince. He devs in and taks awa meh pins. Meh lassie heiders the ba wee the back o her heid, Like a fish oot o water Just before it's deid.

0

Jul 31, 2014

Jul 31, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC

blzbozo

Fitba Crazy

Eh like playin fitba wee meh Dad, It's so funny and a wee bit sad 'Cause when eh beat him he gets mad. Eh like playin fitba wee meh wee lassie, She plays fitba like Shirley Bassey, Meh Dad canny tackle, he's so mince. He devs in and taks awa meh pins. Meh lassie heiders the ba wee the back o her heid, Like a fish oot o water Just before it's deid.

10

Wake up and use me, with your rapier wit, that cynical whirlpool of jobbies, your ****** heid of ***** the way you address an audience is so funny and the way you dress, comedy, loose and snooky, you make me puke, puke, pukey. **** off my fragile mannequin, oh you have bad breath.

0

Dec 7, 2012

Dec 7, 2012 at 9:29 PM UTC

harpo-rhum

Fragile Mannequin

Wake up and use me, with your rapier wit, that cynical whirlpool of jobbies, your ****** heid of ***** the way you address an audience is so funny and the way you dress, comedy, loose and snooky, you make me puke, puke, pukey. **** off my fragile mannequin, oh you have bad breath.

8

Ah didny recognise him fae the eulogy. The meenister'd nivver met the lad, Ah could see. A hero? Aye, mibbe. Jist a name tae maist ay these fowk. But ah kent im as a boay, the daft wee scapegoat, ayewis in boather, but nae real hairm in im. He wis the lad wha'd get skelped, the noise makkin the teacher turn is heid jist in time tae spot im skelpin back. Mairched tae the heidie again. "Yir a bad lot, Barry. Yir faither wis a bad lot too." Puir Baz. Da in the jile, Ma aff her face on smack, an him, daft, funny, doomed. If onybody at hame had cared enough tae keep the schuil photies, they'd have shown a wee freckly laddie wi a too-open grin, year eftir year, jersey gettin tattier, teeth getting gappier, still grinnin while the rest ay us were far too cool tae smile for the camera. Ah liked im. Didny unnerstaun how the teachers were sae ***** tae im. There wis far badder boays in the year. Ricky ****** Jackson - a nasty, sleekit wee body, yankin ab'dy's strings. But his da wis rich an the teachers fawned ower im. No Baz, though. Cannon fodder, richt enough. Tackin the flack fir the rest ay us. Exactly the kind ay lad the ******* Army thrives on. Ah canny feel the patriotic pride, canny picture the self-sacrifice, the heroism. Ah can juist see im, daft an grinnin, daein whit he wis tellt an gettin killt. Mind you, he wis aye headin for the poppies, that yin, One wey or anither.

0

Jun 23, 2013

Jun 23, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC

alan-mcclure

Cenotaph

Ah didny recognise him fae the eulogy. The meenister'd nivver met the lad, Ah could see. A hero? Aye, mibbe. Jist a name tae maist ay these fowk. But ah kent im as a boay, the daft wee scapegoat, ayewis in boather, but nae real hairm in im. He wis the lad wha'd get skelped, the noise makkin the teacher turn is heid jist in time tae spot im skelpin back. Mairched tae the heidie again. "Yir a bad lot, Barry. Yir faither wis a bad lot too." Puir Baz. Da in the jile, Ma aff her face on smack, an him, daft, funny, doomed. If onybody at hame had cared enough tae keep the schuil photies, they'd have shown a wee freckly laddie wi a too-open grin, year eftir year, jersey gettin tattier, teeth getting gappier, still grinnin while the rest ay us were far too cool tae smile for the camera. Ah liked im. Didny unnerstaun how the teachers were sae ***** tae im. There wis far badder boays in the year. Ricky ****** Jackson - a nasty, sleekit wee body, yankin ab'dy's strings. But his da wis rich an the teachers fawned ower im. No Baz, though. Cannon fodder, richt enough. Tackin the flack fir the rest ay us. Exactly the kind ay lad the ******* Army thrives on. Ah canny feel the patriotic pride, canny picture the self-sacrifice, the heroism. Ah can juist see im, daft an grinnin, daein whit he wis tellt an gettin killt. Mind you, he wis aye headin for the poppies, that yin, One wey or anither.

49

Ken a' these auld Scots words, The wans that we've forgot, Why are we no using them, It's because we wernae taught, At hame wi' mither an fathir, Speaking all and proper, First day at school, Speech becomes a cropper, All yir mates at school, Coming oot wi' words like bowff, Saying them in the hoose, Yir fathir says watch yir mouth, Rax me oor the poorie, As ma grama said to me, Asking her whit she meant, Gies the milk jug fir ma tea, Fab technology today, Smert phones and iPad, They missed oot wan thing, The language o' my grandad, Skype, that's a new word, Sounds a bit like Scottish, Was it tae clip you round the ear hole, That word should be abolished, If yir no Scottish, Rabbie's words are a' daft, All the words that came out o' him, That was the man's craft, Whit aboot these well kent lines, Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Sorry aboot that Rabbie, Stealing that was totally misplaced, Oot o' bed on wi' ma baffies, Tae pit them on I need tae sit doon Sittin' on the chair wi' ma bahookie, Missed the chair fawing like a loon, When yir oot daein the gowf, And yir breeks are a' in a runkle, Dinnae be a feart tae tac them aff, If you've got them in a fankle, Deekin oot the windae, Stramash on the doon the road, Some folk getting a doin', Ithers getting a carry code, Polis got there quick enough, Must have a been a hunner, Saw the big yin there, He was the heid ****** The rammy wi the radges Was just oot side the offie, Jings crivvens help ma boab, Some went ben the bothy, We're all **** Tamson's bairns, We a' just want tae learn, We can do it wi' the Scots, It's a language that we yearn.

0

Jan 2, 2015

Jan 2, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC

raymond-dickson

Forgotten Scots Words

Ken a' these auld Scots words, The wans that we've forgot, Why are we no using them, It's because we wernae taught, At hame wi' mither an fathir, Speaking all and proper, First day at school, Speech becomes a cropper, All yir mates at school, Coming oot wi' words like bowff, Saying them in the hoose, Yir fathir says watch yir mouth, Rax me oor the poorie, As ma grama said to me, Asking her whit she meant, Gies the milk jug fir ma tea, Fab technology today, Smert phones and iPad, They missed oot wan thing, The language o' my grandad, Skype, that's a new word, Sounds a bit like Scottish, Was it tae clip you round the ear hole, That word should be abolished, If yir no Scottish, Rabbie's words are a' daft, All the words that came out o' him, That was the man's craft, Whit aboot these well kent lines, Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Sorry aboot that Rabbie, Stealing that was totally misplaced, Oot o' bed on wi' ma baffies, Tae pit them on I need tae sit doon Sittin' on the chair wi' ma bahookie, Missed the chair fawing like a loon, When yir oot daein the gowf, And yir breeks are a' in a runkle, Dinnae be a feart tae tac them aff, If you've got them in a fankle, Deekin oot the windae, Stramash on the doon the road, Some folk getting a doin', Ithers getting a carry code, Polis got there quick enough, Must have a been a hunner, Saw the big yin there, He was the heid ****** The rammy wi the radges Was just oot side the offie, Jings crivvens help ma boab, Some went ben the bothy, We're all **** Tamson's bairns, We a' just want tae learn, We can do it wi' the Scots, It's a language that we yearn.

56

I wish I was a dashing hero.......hang on ******** I wish I was a superstar.......... NOPE.... A ****** football pin-up....... HAAAAAAAA oh my sides hurt so............. Ok........ I wish I had all my wee cats back for a night like the mum in A.I. How I would howl and sob and cry but get to say goodbye I wish I never smacked my heid so hard that some faces are hard to recall thats the price we ********* pay riding bikes off buildings and all and I wish that I could somehow see if someone special this Valentines day would simply smile for me.

0

Feb 13, 2011

Feb 13, 2011 at 4:18 PM UTC

jeremy-wyatt

Valentines Wish

I wish I was a dashing hero.......hang on ******** I wish I was a superstar.......... NOPE.... A ****** football pin-up....... HAAAAAAAA oh my sides hurt so............. Ok........ I wish I had all my wee cats back for a night like the mum in A.I. How I would howl and sob and cry but get to say goodbye I wish I never smacked my heid so hard that some faces are hard to recall thats the price we ********* pay riding bikes off buildings and all and I wish that I could somehow see if someone special this Valentines day would simply smile for me.

17

Got some hair upon my head looks ok some girls have said but if I stoop or look right down wallop my bright gleaming crown! A heli landing pad she says and laughs at my next grumpy gaze well knit me a wig, or maybe a hat or cover it with a piece of mat! We do felt making that could work no I would look a ruddy berk.... Colour it in with a magic marker do my grey so I go darker Stop it all I've had enough hirsutism proving way to tough stick with what is clinging on enjoy what's left before it's gone!

0

Jan 15, 2011

Jan 15, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC

jeremy-wyatt

Slap Heid

Got some hair upon my head looks ok some girls have said but if I stoop or look right down wallop my bright gleaming crown! A heli landing pad she says and laughs at my next grumpy gaze well knit me a wig, or maybe a hat or cover it with a piece of mat! We do felt making that could work no I would look a ruddy berk.... Colour it in with a magic marker do my grey so I go darker Stop it all I've had enough hirsutism proving way to tough stick with what is clinging on enjoy what's left before it's gone!

16

Am a lass fae Govan There a wiz born n breid When a wiz wee a wiz playing tig oan the ***** N a split ma poor wee heid Fae Glesga tae Fife Wiz where we went Tae a flat in Methil That ma maw goat fur rent Tae skool a went like A scaredey cat, a didny know wit ti expect Second year it the high skool Wiz a bit eh a pain in the neck Home eckie wiz the class A waaaanted it tae 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

0

Jun 16, 2018

Jun 16, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC

xJEWELSx

Govan lass (written in Glesga slang)

Am a lass fae Govan There a wiz born n breid When a wiz wee a wiz playing tig oan the ***** N a split ma poor wee heid Fae Glesga tae Fife Wiz where we went Tae a flat in Methil That ma maw goat fur rent Tae skool a went like A scaredey cat, a didny know wit ti expect Second year it the high skool Wiz a bit eh a pain in the neck Home eckie wiz the class A waaaanted it tae 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

24

Th' sound o' th' bagpipes howfur it stirs th' soul tae battle oan ah wis tellt by mah faither that whin th' Germans sawed a lone **** comin' up th' beach blawin his pipes thay didnae fire thinking mibbie he wis a bawherr touched in th' heid 'n' let him be as ither soldiers aroond him lay wee or lay deid moved back 'n' forth by th' sea ah mind hearing a lone piper speil in Auld Reekie by Waverly Station dressed in kilt 'n' stowed oot regalia closed een 'n' ah thought o' th' lone **** comin' up that beach blawin awa' 'n' aye blows th'day.

0

Jan 28, 2021

Jan 28, 2021 at 4:48 AM UTC

TerryCollett

Bagpipes and Auld Reekie.

Th' sound o' th' bagpipes howfur it stirs th' soul tae battle oan ah wis tellt by mah faither that whin th' Germans sawed a lone **** comin' up th' beach blawin his pipes thay didnae fire thinking mibbie he wis a bawherr touched in th' heid 'n' let him be as ither soldiers aroond him lay wee or lay deid moved back 'n' forth by th' sea ah mind hearing a lone piper speil in Auld Reekie by Waverly Station dressed in kilt 'n' stowed oot regalia closed een 'n' ah thought o' th' lone **** comin' up that beach blawin awa' 'n' aye blows th'day.

32