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O Prince, O chief of many throned pow’rs!
        That led th’ embattled seraphim to war!
                      (Milton, Paradise Lost)

O thou! whatever title suit thee,—
Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie!
Wha in yon cavern, grim an’ sootie,
     Clos’d under hatches,
Spairges about the brunstane cootie
     To scaud poor wretches!

Hear me, Auld Hangie, for a wee,
An’ let poor ****** bodies be;
I’m sure sma’ pleasure it can gie,
     E’en to a deil,
To skelp an’ scaud poor dogs like me,
     An’ hear us squeel!

Great is thy pow’r, an’ great thy fame;
Far ken’d an’ noted is thy name;
An’ tho’ yon lowin heugh’s thy hame,
     Thou travels far;
An’ faith! thou’s neither lag nor lame,
     Nor blate nor scaur.

Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion,
For prey a’ holes an’ corners tryin;
Whyles, on the strong-wing’d tempest flyin,
     Tirlin’ the kirks;
Whyles, in the human ***** pryin,
     Unseen thou lurks.

I’ve heard my rev’rend graunie say,
In lanely glens ye like to stray;
Or whare auld ruin’d castles gray
     Nod to the moon,
Ye fright the nightly wand’rer’s way
     Wi’ eldritch croon.

When twilight did my graunie summon
To say her pray’rs, douce honest woman!
Aft yont the **** she’s heard you bummin,
     Wi’ eerie drone;
Or, rustlin thro’ the boortrees comin,
     Wi’ heavy groan.

Ae dreary, windy, winter night,
The stars shot down wi’ sklentin light,
Wi’ you mysel I gat a fright,
     Ayont the lough;
Ye like a rash-buss stood in sight,
     Wi’ waving sugh.

The cudgel in my nieve did shake,
Each bristl’d hair stood like a stake,
When wi’ an eldritch, stoor “Quaick, quaick,”
     Amang the springs,
Awa ye squatter’d like a drake,
     On whistling wings.

Let warlocks grim an’ wither’d hags
Tell how wi’ you on ragweed nags
They skim the muirs an’ dizzy crags
     Wi’ wicked speed;
And in kirk-yards renew their leagues,
     Owre howket dead.

Thence, countra wives wi’ toil an’ pain
May plunge an’ plunge the kirn in vain;
For oh! the yellow treasure’s taen
     By witchin skill;
An’ dawtet, twal-pint hawkie’s gaen
     As yell’s the bill.

Thence, mystic knots mak great abuse,
On young guidmen, fond, keen, an’ croose;
When the best wark-lume i’ the house,
     By cantraip wit,
Is instant made no worth a louse,
     Just at the bit.

When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord,
An’ float the jinglin icy-boord,
Then water-kelpies haunt the foord
     By your direction,
An’ nighted trav’lers are allur’d
     To their destruction.

And aft your moss-traversing spunkies
Decoy the wight that late an drunk is:
The bleezin, curst, mischievous monkeys
     Delude his eyes,
Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
     Ne’er mair to rise.

When Masons’ mystic word an grip
In storms an’ tempests raise you up,
Some **** or cat your rage maun stop,
     Or, strange to tell!
The youngest brither ye *** whip
     Aff straught to hell!

Lang syne, in Eden’d bonie yard,
When youthfu’ lovers first were pair’d,
An all the soul of love they shar’d,
     The raptur’d hour,
Sweet on the fragrant flow’ry swaird,
     In shady bow’r;

Then you, ye auld snick-drawin dog!
Ye cam to Paradise incog,
And play’d on man a cursed brogue,
     (Black be your fa’!)
An gied the infant warld a shog,
     Maist ruin’d a’.

D’ye mind that day, when in a bizz,
Wi’ reeket duds an reestet gizz,
Ye did present your smoutie phiz
     Mang better folk,
An’ sklented on the man of Uz
     Your spitefu’ joke?

An’ how ye gat him i’ your thrall,
An’ brak him out o’ house and hal’,
While scabs and blotches did him gall,
     Wi’ bitter claw,
An’ lows’d his ill-tongued, wicked scaul,
     Was warst ava?

But a’ your doings to rehearse,
Your wily snares an’ fechtin fierce,
Sin’ that day Michael did you pierce,
     Down to this time,
*** ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse,
     In prose or rhyme.

An’ now, Auld Cloots, I ken ye’re thinkin,
A certain Bardie’s rantin, drinkin,
Some luckless hour will send him linkin,
     To your black pit;
But faith! he’ll turn a corner jinkin,
     An’ cheat you yet.

But fare you weel, Auld Nickie-ben!
O *** ye tak a thought an’ men’!
Ye aiblins might—I dinna ken—
     Still hae a stake:
I’m wae to think upo’ yon den,
     Ev’n for your sake!
O were my Love yon lilac fair,
  Wi’ purple blossoms to the spring,
And I a bird to shelter there,
  When wearied on my little wing;
How I *** mourn when it was torn
  By autumn wild and winter rude!
But I *** sing on wanton wing
  When youthfu’ May its bloom renew’d.

O gin my Love were yon red rose
  That grows upon the castle wa’,
And I mysel a drap o’ dew,
  Into her bonnie breast to fa’;
O there, beyond expression blest,
  I’d feast on beauty a’ the night;
Seal’d on her silk-saft faulds to rest,
  Till fley’d awa’ by Phoebus’ light.
COME round me, little childer;
There, don't fling stones at me
Because I mutter as I go;
But pity Moll Magee.
My man was a poor fisher
With shore lines in the say;
My work was saltin' herrings
The whole of the long day.
And sometimes from the Saltin' shed
I scarce could drag my feet,
Under the blessed moonlight,
Along thc pebbly street.
I'd always been but weakly,
And my baby was just born;
A neighbour minded her by day,
I minded her till morn.
I lay upon my baby;
Ye little childer dear,
I looked on my cold baby
When the morn grew frosty and clear.
A weary woman sleeps so hard!
My man grew red and pale,
And gave me money, and bade me go
To my own place, Kinsale.
He drove me out and shut the door.
And gave his curse to me;
I went away in silence,
No neighbour could I see.
The windows and the doors were shut,
One star shone faint and green,
The little straws were turnin round
Across the bare boreen.
I went away in silence:
Beyond old Martin's byre
I saw a kindly neighbour
Blowin' her mornin' fire.
She drew from me my story --
My money's all used up,
And still, with pityin', scornin' eye,
She gives me bite and sup.
She says my man will surely come
And fetch me home agin;
But always, as I'm movin' round,
Without doors or within,
Pilin' the wood or pilin' the turf,
Or goin' to the well,
I'm thinkin' of my baby
And keenin' to mysel'.
And Sometimes I am sure she knows
When, openin' wide His door,
God lights the stats, His candles,
And looks upon the poor.
So now, ye little childer,
Ye won't fling stones at me;
But gather with your shinin' looks
And pity Moll Magee.
The ladye she stood at her lattice high,
Wi' her doggie at her feet;
Thorough the lattice she can spy
The passers in the street,

"There's one that standeth at the door,
And tirleth at the pin:
Now speak and say, my popinjay,
If I sall let him in."

Then up and spake the popinjay
That flew abune her head:
"*** let him in that tirls the pin:
He cometh thee to wed."

O when he cam' the parlour in,
A woeful man was he!
"And dinna ye ken your lover agen,
Sae well that loveth thee?"

"And how *** I ken ye loved me, Sir,
That have been sae lang away?
And how *** I ken ye loved me, Sir?
Ye never telled me sae."

Said - "Ladye dear," and the salt, salt tear
Cam' rinnin' doon his cheek,
"I have sent the tokens of my love
This many and many a week.

"O didna ye get the rings, Ladye,
The rings o' the gowd sae fine?
I wot that I have sent to thee
Four score, four score and nine."

"They cam' to me," said that fair ladye.
"Wow, they were flimsie things!"
Said - "that chain o' gowd, my doggie to howd,
It is made o' thae self-same rings."

"And didna ye get the locks, the locks,
The locks o' my ain black hair,
Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,
Whilk I sent by the carrier?"

"They cam' to me," said that fair ladye;
"And I prithee send nae mair!"
Said - "that cushion sae red, for my doggie's head,
It is stuffed wi' thae locks o' hair."

"And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,
Tied wi' a silken string,
Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie,
A message of love to bring?"

"It cam' to me frae the far countrie
Wi' its silken string and a';
But it wasna prepaid," said that high-born maid,
"Sae I gar'd them tak' it awa'."

"O ever alack that ye sent it back,
It was written sae clerkly and well!
Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought,
I must even say it mysel'."

Then up and spake the popinjay,
Sae wisely counselled he.
"Now say it in the proper way:
*** doon upon thy knee!"

The lover he turned baith red and pale,
Went doon upon his knee:
"O Ladye, hear the waesome tale
That must be told to thee!

"For five lang years, and five lang years,
I coorted thee by looks;
By nods and winks, by smiles and tears,
As I had read in books.

"For ten lang years, O weary hours!
I coorted thee by signs;
By sending game, by sending flowers,
By sending Valentines.

"For five lang years, and five lang years,
I have dwelt in the far countrie,
Till that thy mind should be inclined
Mair tenderly to me.

"Now thirty years are gane and past,
I am come frae a foreign land:
I am come to tell thee my love at last -
O Ladye, gie me thy hand!"

The ladye she turned not pale nor red,
But she smiled a pitiful smile:
"Sic' a coortin' as yours, my man," she said
"Takes a lang and a weary while!"

And out and laughed the popinjay,
A laugh of bitter scorn:
"A coortin' done in sic' a way,
It ought not to be borne!"

Wi' that the doggie barked aloud,
And up and doon he ran,
And tugged and strained his chain o' gowd,
All for to bite the man.

"O hush thee, gentle popinjay!
O hush thee, doggie dear!
There is a word I fain *** say,
It needeth he should hear!"

Aye louder screamed that ladye fair
To drown her doggie's bark:
Ever the lover shouted mair
To make that ladye hark:

Shrill and more shrill the popinjay
Upraised his angry squall:
I trow the doggie's voice that day
Was louder than them all!

The serving-men and serving-maids
Sat by the kitchen fire:
They heard sic' a din the parlour within
As made them much admire.

Out spake the boy in buttons
(I ween he wasna thin),
"Now wha will tae the parlour ***,
And stay this deadlie din?"

And they have taen a kerchief,
Casted their kevils in,
For wha will tae the parlour ***,
And stay that deadlie din.

When on that boy the kevil fell
To stay the fearsome noise,
"*** in," they cried, "whate'er betide,
Thou prince of button-boys!"

Syne, he has taen a supple cane
To swinge that dog sae fat:
The doggie yowled, the doggie howled
The louder aye for that.

Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane -
The doggie ceased his noise,
And followed doon the kitchen stair
That prince of button-boys!

Then sadly spake that ladye fair,
Wi' a frown upon her brow:
"O dearer to me is my sma' doggie
Than a dozen sic' as thou!

"Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears:
Nae use at all to fret:
Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years,
Ye may bide a wee langer yet!"

Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor
And tirled at the pin:
Sadly went he through the door
Where sadly he cam' in.

"O gin I had a popinjay
To fly abune my head,
To tell me what I ought to say,
I had by this been wed.

"O gin I find anither ladye,"
He said wi' sighs and tears,
"I wot my coortin' sall not be
Anither thirty years

"For gin I find a ladye gay,
Exactly to my taste,
I'll pop the question, aye or nay,
In twenty years at maist."
Dánï Dec 2013
There's nothing I've wanted more than the ability to forget.
I've tried but I haven't been able to master it, yet.

I can't forget your scorching touch,
You left scars, more than enough.

You were trying to mask your impotence,
I should've shown more than just indifference.

Tell me did you understand what you were doing, did you notice my change?
Must of since you'd repeatedly ask "Why are you acting so strange?"

I never admitted, never told a soul,
I never seeked help- I turned numb, bitter cold.

Tried to convince myself I was strong, stronger than you.
I was completely wrong, you knew this, too.

You hold so much sovereignty over me,
I still cannot comprehend how this can be.

You knew who'd keep quiet, you knew which prey to choose,
You're so clever, made sure you'd never lose.

Do you know how indefinitely f'cked up I am now?
Are you happy? Are you proud? Do you want to take a bow?

Your time is ending, your death is near,
You'll be gone, yet I'll always have so much to fear..
-d.***
Anthony Carrasco Feb 2016
It took only a few seconds to
f
a
l
l
in love with you.
____________
It took only a few seconds for us to be,

meyou

, side by side.  
____________
It took only a few seconds for you to
d
r
o
p
me from your life.
_____________
Why can't it take only a few seconds to pick
myself
mysel
myse
mys
my
m
up again?
colddistance Feb 2015
O WERE my Love yon lilac fair,
  Wi' purple blossoms to the spring,
And I a bird to shelter there,
  When wearied on my little wing;
How I *** mourn when it was torn         
  By autumn wild and winter rude!
But I *** sing on wanton wing
  When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd.

O gin my Love were yon red rose
  That grows upon the castle wa',   
And I mysel a drap o' dew,
  Into her bonnie breast to fa';
O there, beyond expression blest,
  I'd feast on beauty a' the night;
Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest,
  Till fley'd awa' by Phoebus' light.
Robert Burns. 1759–1796
LETITFXRING Jul 2015
I see diffeRent
I no longer sEe
myselF,
Lost
within Every
inCh looking up at
The mirror and
wantIng
tO scream until the pieces fell
uNto the floor, as I try to find myself
Suddenly the plot sickens… Lurching out of a comatose state, the sudden onset of panic…left with a past that has never passed…was and is always present. At present, past and a past present, both distinctly different from the present prospect of the past degenerating already into a future prospect which will never be. Suffer that. Being prey to anxiety, nostalgia and hope…. to attain from time to time the absolute serenity of a perception of timelessness, a state of lack of perception of time; to fuse together some brief fragments of eternity, we can perceive on this side of life, through a glass darkly. Though eventually will perceive with crystal clarity, in sharp focus. Simulators. Emulators. I keep bumpin’ intae mysel. That’s just the point. Around the bend. It’s not the end. Sons of fear and sorrow, will you cheer tomorrow? Sons of toil and danger, will you serve a stranger? A new beginning, never ending. Still sometimes I feel so low that I want tae “top mysel.” But I will go on. God is ma strength. He is ma Salvation. The only Way, The Truth and The Life. Love. Always was and always will be. HE IS.
Just playing around with words, and the sound of them in particular ways... a bit goofy and experimental, but I had fun just putting it down on paper... hope someone else who loves words & linguistics, syntax and the phonetics of words gets a kick outta it.
Mya Feb 2015
And in that day I had fallen I love
It was the beginning of the end
But that much I didn't know
I remained nïeve and unaware
The feelings were all new to me
I had let mysel be consumed
Totally submerged in passion

It was in the mirror that I saw
All of my greatest fears lurked behind
I was blinded by my heart
Lust was seaping from his smile
I fell in love that day
But he did not

That night I lay beside him
With the sheers beside me
I cut it all
His hair
His pride
And little be known
His heart

For the fears I had seen
We're just that- fears
Insecurity was the weapon of the heart
But yet he stayed
Told me that all was right

In that instant I fell in love
With a man who had nothing
Yet held me as everything
He fell in love with a broken girl
Who made him whole
chainedwhore Nov 2014
at night i think about u often since thats when we'd talk alot....
I will miss you very much. Not as much as i missed E, *** i was seeing him alot longer. But it is a great deal of heartache!!

You were sent to do evil......but you really didnt.

You made me see things differenly....
changed my mindset on things that had been a certain way for yrs.
You got me to tell my self i love mysel every day....even today i do it.
I always keep the ringer off otherwise it makes noise since its still set to the settings you made on the phone.
You got me to see the difference in an apology and from saying sorry.
You tried your hardest to get me to think better of myself and for that i am ever so grateful to you for that.

i dont know why u  did that and i probably never will know why but i do thank you.!!!

I really did care and love you.
take care sweetness....

luv u......
bye.
:(
i gotta get off the computer *** it only makes me sad when i read your stuff. *** i still want to see you or at least do ya....but .......
we
sent him away
it will be easier to **** you this way
your mothers thier mothers
mother ******* give peanut butte ****
your drawn in cheeks
these words of fallen slumber
recognition of trap me words
so delusional was he
pools over pools
pool that pool pools
of blood soaked tears
your horror of self recognition
there horror
every where horror
that he could find peace
what 42nd k have you gripped
oh foolish children with pink on your lips
your satisfaction of stroking fingers
let me shove this **** down your throat
listen to it crow
watch the chicken fly from your belly
snakes from your bowels
intestines full of maggots
watch you squirm
puke will fill your carpet seams
stitched to the stench in between
that you nostrils for terminate stretch fixtures
who are you attitude sawallowed with fits chasers
spin another chamber watch him travel on the floor
past his moments of verbal **** who was he
might as well attitudes

that your night be as an well
that your well drowns your might
you will find no might in death
swallow words for ones you protect
roll up my sleeves that you have face
that an following could be escaped by reality
reality that your flesh is rotting
spit up at the sky open your mouth
let the dog lick your scabs
find him


away from me mysel an I

we
...
..
.
blah blah


..
.
Yz Doo Sep 2018
Up and down,
Bipolar popcorn
Salt and pepper,
With a lovely twist
of an unorthodoxed path
Bipolar
I diagnosed mysel
I am simply me

— The End —