"oan" poems
(L)ick my muse
(E)at it all
(T)ry not to let a drop fall
**** my juice, **** it all
(M)oan and scream
(I)t's all i need
(S)ubmissive is what you'll be
(B)e patient your time will come
****** games are to be done
******** is my only way
(A)fter that it's your turn to play
(V)iolently, softly? it's up to you
(E)nding the night exploding on you
Words Of Harfouchism
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
~~
**Dialogue and Oratory Between
SPT and Nat:**
~
***At the Intersection of
Perfection & Beauty,
By Blue Candlight***
~~~
come let us by and by,
soon meet,
under blue moon candle lit sky,
at this worthy intersection of
beauty and perfection,
be together,
contained,
yet unconstrained
let us speak of what
we see and sense,
come to come
to know,
of what does not appear
in this world easy readily,
what lies between
two points,
sharing,
needy of,
crossing destination revelations
*It's said of beauty,
once uncovered and
gazed upon whole,
be visible only at the
bottom of the bin of the
picked-threw,
it was here, where, perfection
once was lost
and may yet now be found,
where souls,
singled and singed,
seek to find of,
the perfection lost,
the untarnished beauty
within ones self
from the meadow can be seen
The Field Where Wonderment Grows,
wild is the bounty of colored beauty
then
and only there,
can oan one,
locate, judge and
accept
what never departs
a self*
at the road'meeting point,
at our time and place
appointed,
arrived but come
disappointed,
crossed and creased
by the journeys
travels and travails,
burnt blind,
eyes by life's headwinds,
singled and singed,
and the mind disbelieves, doubts,
the existence verily,
of the locale,
beauty & perfection
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
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?
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
"But let me tune you the live about life's simulation,
that assimilates one's worth. Poetry's code isn't of ones
and zeroes, but of all lines and words"
Says the wit of a coloured oan wanting to chuff the girls
It's all about the honeys, and maybe some sweet
success of hustling for a little extra money
Taking a stand on every stanza, I grew up to different standards
Unlike the hood rapper clutching the 48 hammer,
I was taught in my hood how to hold a 48 spanner
I have my odds in odes; every heavy breath in each
coma—not so common
Given the stereotype of dealing and robbing
To steal your stereo if the right type,
and best to drive with caution
A dark skinned coloured
fitting in with the blacks by appearance
Accents do tend to change ears intently hearing
Whites think I'm that way out of a private school fashion
But I did at times hang out with the wrong crowd,
at times on weekends smoking **** and relaxing
And yes I'm actually coloured; to those of you asking
Hit you with a "hey what's up, what's happening"
Don't mind me asking questions with this sort of coloured accent
"Yoo what's the story," we start our conversations
in the morning. A different kind of breed Godsent
I don't force how I speak
But if it disturbs the peace
I'll change my tone of speech
And find solace in writing another poetry piece
_@the Coloured poet_
Dec 15, 2022
Dec 15, 2022 at 2:41 PM UTC
She sat on her bed
looking out the window.
Hannah looked at
the fulling rain.
Her mother passed by
the bedroom door
and looked in.
Whit ur ye daein'?
Her mother said.
Looking at the rain,
Hannah replied.
Ye can help me
wi' the washin',
her mother said.
Do I have to help
with the washing?
Her mother stared
at her
Whit ur ye
waitin' fur?
I'm waiting
for Benedict,
Hannah said,
gazing at her
mother's stern gaze.
O heem th'
sassenach loon,
her mother said
and walked off
down the passage.
Hannah waited.
She'd was pushing
her manners close
to the limits.
Once upon a time
her mother would
have slapped her
behind for talking so,
but now at 12 years
old her mother dithered
and set her tongue
to work instead.
She eyed the rain
running down the glass.
She could hear
her mother in the kitchen
banging pots and pans.
Then a knock at the door.
Benedict no doubt.
Gie th' duir, Hannah,
her mother bellowed.
Hannah went to the door
and let Benedict in.
He was wet, his hair
clung to his head
and his clothes were damp.
Got caught
in the downpour,
he said,
shaking his head.
Hannah smiled.
I'll get you a towel
to dry your hair,
she said.
She got him a towel
from the cupboard
and he began
to rub his hair.
We can't go out in this,
Hannah said,
have to stay here
and we can play games.
He rubbed his hair dry,
took off his wet coat
and stood by her bed.
What games?
he said.
Ludo? Chess?
Draughts? She suggested.
Her mother came back
to the door of the bedroom.
Ye swatch dreich,
the mother said,
eyeing Benedict.
He looked at Mrs Scot
and then at Hannah.
Mum said you look drenched,
Hannah said.
O right, yes, I am,
he replied and smiled.
Mrs Scot didn't
smile back.
Dornt sit oan
th' scratcher,
Mrs Scot said icily.
Mum said don't sit
on the bed,
Hannah said.
Mrs Scot went
off muttering.
Where shall I sit?
He asked.
We'll sit on the floor,
Hannah said,
and play chess.
He nodded his head,
his quiff of hair
in a damp mess.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
They dance tae boots n' cats
like ants being crushed by boots:
Squirming, wriggling, writhing
wae jaws scraping the flare.
They scurry like wee rats
under the ground in cahoots:
snidely sneaking, snitching
under the boots n' cats they blare.
"Boots n cats urr booming doon yer ears.
Boots n cats huv been oan repeat fur years.
Boots n cats will perforate yer ears.
Boots n cats huv been oan repeat fur years"
But then sumday changed the beat:
It Came in oan the and.
And everyone forgot how tae dance.
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Hannah lies
her collection of knives
on her bed
most given
by her father
-the largest
an SS knife
he took off a dead
SS man-
her mother
passing by
her open door
says
whit hae ye
those kni'es
oan yer scratcher fur?
I'm showing Benedict
my collection
Hannah replies
O heem
th' sassenach loon
Mrs Scott says
he's nice
Hannah says
and he likes knives
and guns
and he's interested
in seeing them
sae ye say
her mother says
and walks away
to the kitchen
Hannah sits
on her bed
and waits for Benedict
to arrive
she likes
the SS knife best
it has a kind
of haunting feel
about it
the door knocker bangs
gie th' duir
Hannah
it's th' loon
so Hannah goes
to the door
and Benedict
stands there
come in and see
Hannah says
so Benedict follows her
into her bedroom
here's my collection
she says
showing him
the knives spread
on her bed
he picks up a knife
or two and weighs
them in the palm
of his hand
and feels along
the blade
he picks out
the SS knife
and says
deadly thing this
have you one?
she asks
no I have a flick knife
my uncle gave me
he puts the SS knife
down on the bed
fine collection
he says
and they both sit
on the bed
near the knives
at the one end
Mrs Scott walks by
and stops and says
waur ye sittin'
oan th' scratcher?
just sitting and looking
at the knives
Hannah says
nae oan th' scratcher
her mother replies
Benedict looks puzzled
and Hannah says
she doesn't want us
sitting on the bed
Benedict nods his head
and says
o right
and looks at Mrs Scott
who stares at him
sternly and walks off
something I said?
he asks
no
Hannah says
she doesn't trust us
sitting on the bed
why is that?
he says
God knows
Hannah replies
hearing her mother
cursing in the kitchen
like a buzz of flies.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Whoa.
See that yin?
Jist sittin there?
Ye ken how she’s sittin like that, don’t ye?
Well, whit’s she sittin oan?
Aye, her erse.
She’s only sittin like that
So ye ken she’s got an erse.
Gaggin fir it.
An whoa, check that yin!
Wearin claes!
Filthy cow!
Whit dae ye mean, “Whit dae ah mean”?
Claes!
Ye canny wear claes
If ye huvny got a boady, can ye?
That’s right –
Just screamin it, so she is –
“Check oot ma boady!”
Aye, ah wull an aw!
Don’t mind if ah dae!
Aw, mate – that yin!
That yin ower there!
Bendin her airm!
See her?
Bendin her airm like a mucky ****
That’s so ye ken
She’s got elbows!
Phwoar, I ken your type hen –
you wi yir elbows an a’thin!
Desperate fur it, aren’t ye?
An man! This yin,
walkin towards us!
Breathin in an oot!
Whit a slapper!
Breathin in an oot!
Aye, ye need a pair o lungs tae dae that,
I bet, eh, hen?
A pair o fine, functioning lungs!
Aye, you use them, doll –
dinny you be shy!
Ah’m no!
Aw pal, haud me back!
This yin!
This yin eatin a meat pie!
Shameless wee ****
Aw yeah, baby,
I ken whit that means!
Mean’s ye’ve got yirsel
a **** wee digestive tract in there, no?
Ye dinny hae tae spell it oot tae me, love!
Probably got a pair o kidneys
tucked away in there too,
ye ***** wee *****
Aw the same, ur they no?
Aw ae thum.
Gantin oan it.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
Hannah and Benedict
sat on the floor
of her bedroom
playing chess
outside it was raining
hitting against
the windows
your move
Hannah said
Benedict moved
his pawn forward
Hannah's mother(Mrs Scot)
walked along the passage
by the open door
whit ur ye daein?
playing chess
Hannah said
wa haur?
Mrs Scot asked
where else?
Hannah replied
in th' dinnin room
Mrs Scot said
what's up?
Benedict asked
she wants us to play
in the dinning room
Hannah said
oan th' table
nae th' fluir
Mrs Scot said firmly
awe rite Maw
Hannah said
so Hannah picked up
the chessboard carefully
and carried it into
the dinning room
balancing the board
so that the pieces
were where they were
Benedict followed behind
hands in the pockets
of his jeans
Mrs Scot eyeing him
with beady eyes
her hair covered
in a tartan headscarf
Hannah set the board
on the table
and Benedict and she
sat at the table
to resume their game
Mrs Scot walked off
muttering to herself
whose move?
Benedict asked
mine now
Hannah said
why couldn't we play
on the floor of your room?
he asked
God knows
Hannah replied
as she moved her bishop
along the black squares
your king's in trouble
Hannah said
Benedict looked
at the board
and moved his
pawn forward to block
and protect his king
Mrs Scot appeared
in the doorway
staring at them
hoo lang ur ye
gonnae be?
she asked
not long the way
Benedict's playing why?
Hannah said
it has stopped rainin'
sae ye can gang it
Mrs Scot said
Benedict gazed at Hannah
then at Mrs Scot
ok won't be long
Hannah said
Mrs Scot went off
and Hannah moved her bishop
and said
checkmate
Benedict looked
at the board and saw
that he was
so there you are
he said
so do we have
to go now?
Hannah nodded her head
yes it's best
so she packed up
the pieces
and the game board
and took them to her room
Benedict followed
watching her as she
put the game away
then they walked
to the door and went out
into the morning air
with Mrs Scot at the door
giving them
the dark stare.
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 3:50 AM UTC
Hast thou cometh here cyndelich
ande in beaute with the erli
ande feintest daunen,
whilst the undaunted
niht sky wilt newely
beren the daies spring
once more;
ande dare
I asken if perhaps
I dreem, or if
you trewly do
drape thy leoft hand
gentilly o'er
my right syde,
whilst callening me,
the struggling budde,
to sprightlich
issue forth;
ande morph into a myghty
florishener, then
leoft to beggen most intently
to be swathen in a manere
of soole luve,
all in the mysty morwening liht?
I shall e'er awaiten your andsware,
for now in effect oan,
'till the dai that I
am growen
-perhaps n'er to escapen
for the vine, but
aye in the blest sunne.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Sae whit did ye dae?
Hannah's mother asked
when Hannah returned
from swimming with Benny
ah went swimmin'
Hannah replied
so where's he noo?
her mother said
looking past
her daughter's head
he's in th' cludgie
Hannah said
what's the' matter
wi' heem?
her mother said frowning
he's havin' a ***
Hannah replied
whit ur ye dae efter?
her mother said
Benny came out
of the toilet
and stood by Hannah
everything all right?
he asked
never better
Hannah said
come on
let's go in my room
and I can show you
the new knife
my dad got me
whit ur ye daein'?
Mrs Scot said
we're going to my room
and I'm showing
Benny my new knife
Hannah said
weel dornt sit
oan th' scratcher
she said moodily
and walked off
to the kitchen
Benny and Hannah
went to her bedroom
and closed the door
I see your mum's
her usual happy self
Benny said quietly
o don't mind her
her bark is as bad
as her bite
and Hannah laughed
sit down
and I'll show you
the knife
but your mum said
not to sit on the bed
Benny said
what she can't see
won't hurt her
Hannah said
Benny watched her
as she went to a drawer
and sorted amongst
many knives
many of which
he'd seen before
there was a knock
at the door
whit ur ye tois daein'?
Mrs Scot said
I'm showing Benny something
Hannah replied
Mrs Scot walked off
and said nothing more
that'll get her thinking
Hannah said smiling
thinking about what?
Benny said
never mind
about what
if it gets her thinking
it's a good thing
Hannah said
sitting beside Benny
showing him
the new knife
on her single
bouncy bed.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 3:14 AM UTC
Stories boot' boots an' ants
over beats of boots and cats.
The social rants dinnae' stop
till the cats oan the mat, wagging
his tail at the horrendous chat.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
Whit 'twas
he said
that made ye roar,
ah will ne'er ken,
bit it mist hae bin
ferr funny
tae see ye roar
lik' that,
'n' see yer een
light up lik' a child's
oan yule day
seeing parcels
leid beneath th' tree,
or mibbie 'twas
something ye couldn’t
tell yer mither
'n' her Calvinist
point o' view,
bit whitevur
he said
certainly
tickled you.
Dec 7, 2021
Dec 7, 2021 at 12:28 PM UTC
Och! Airn an’ Thundir! Great Orrah!
Ere ye a' sune an’ syne fast, verra fast ***
Wae Verra Skye-Storne Hye,
Skye-Unleashed, IT! Clitheroe's Gory Orrah!
Frae mah Burnan’ Skye-Rage,
An' unco Airn-Curse o’er ye a',
Downe, downe! owre downe!
Theis Moorlan Firey Grass flyin’,
Dinna Daur! Ah say, Dinna Daur!
Tae mah Verra Skye-Roaran’
An' Skye-Furious Bellum, Guid Orrah!
Nae tae baith nowe listen!
Nor tae set futis ageyne, Ah say!
Wae yer unco dishonorable duds,
Oan Theis Verra Nobil Glamis’ Hal’,
Kingdom o' Scotland IT, Airn-Auld,
Robert th' Bruce Micht,
Ironclad, her Ruler, wae Wois Loud!
Fore, ne’er, ne’er, Ah skye-yell;
AH UNCO WADNA!
AH UNCO WADNA!
Great Guid, Verra Guid Orrah!
Wae mah Bleezan Skye-Blade o’ War,
An’ Verra, Verra Guid Gilded Targe,
Auldfarran, juist twich ye a'!
Whene'er, an’ unco fore’er,
Intae THEIS DEEP LOCH O' RID HEL,
An' thro' yondir War-Thundir, och!
Wae mah Skye-Skean steel-fechtin’.
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 4:08 AM UTC
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
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
Thare wis a time
ah cuid climb th' stairs
in th' Scott Monument,
aroond 'n' aroond
up tae th' tap
'n' doon tae th' ground;
bit age mak's it
a bridge tae far,
a step tae mony.
Lik' wise
climbing up
Arthur's Seat
wis wance achieved
wi'oot a break fur breath
'n' wid sit oan th' tap
wi' a sense o' pride.
Noo aches 'n' loupin
limbs 'n' back,
mak' th' attempt
a non event,
a climb best left
tae a former time.
Aug 27, 2021
Aug 27, 2021 at 1:06 PM UTC
You saw the girl
sitting
at the corner table
of the cafe
in Edinburgh
thin
ill looking
sipping the coffee.
You walked
over to her
and said
ye swatch nae weel.
She looked at you
what's it tae ye?
she said
buck aff.
You smiled
and sat down
can ah gie
ye something?
you said.
She looked
past you
at the small
cafe door
then back at you.
Chocolate
if ye want
she said
her voice softer
less hostile.
You went
to the counter
and bought
a few bars
of chocolate
and another coffee
and sat down again
and gave her
the bars.
Aw fur me?
she said.
You nodded
and smiled.
She opened a bar
of chocolate
and ate it quickly
eyeing you steadily.
What's in it fur ye?
she said.
Depends
you replied.
Depends oan wit?
she said.
Ye can bide wi' me
at mah place
you said
eyeing her paleness
and her thinness.
She ate on
looking at you.
After the one bar
she ate the other
sipping at her coffee
in between.
Once she'd finished
and said
she'd go with you
but had to go
to the toilet first
so she went off.
You sat there
watching
the other people
in the cafe.
She returned
after a while
looking white
and her eyes were red.
You both left the cafe
back to your place
with nothing more said.
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
Kersteen locks
the hospital
toilet door
sits on the seat.
She's escaped
from the ward
has bought
chocolate bars
with money
she liberated
from her mother's purse
when her mother visited
her earlier that day.
Fit loch noo?
her mother said.
Aam still nae weel
Kersteen replied.
She eats
the chocolate bars
as quick as she can
then waits
and sticks two fingers
down her throat
to make her puke.
A bang on the door
ur ye in thaur
Kersteen?
a nurse says.
Kersteen
leans over
the bowl
wipes her mouth
with the sleeve
of her dressing gown.
Aam oan th' cludgie
she says
willnae be lang.
Whit ur ye daein?
na makin' yerself
boak again Ah hiner
the nurse says.
Nae ay coorse nae
Kersteen replies
swallowing puke
and spiting out lies.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
A place in which to ponder
not a milky way
universal complexity
repulsions war attractions
feelings and asensuality
the creation of ones oan
cosmic chatter
slowing the flows
dragging the darkness down
energy implosion
darkness a place of harmonius existence
safety
isolation
deafing in reality
speaking in circles
hearing it all
unable to translate from the light
want to stay longer
energy sapping
overheating
drawing on previous knowledge
driving experiences forward
deciding the options
balancing the ideas and harvest
break free into the light
an eerie world
where life exists
weigh the risks to venture forth
open the aqueducts
fountains draw us out
relief in existence
appreciate the worries
deal in the contradictions
manage the cliff edge
make a pact with your soul
socialising tendrils
start to walk
deep sleep enter thy vessel
a place to dream good and bad
protective and restoring
open-hearted dutifully imploring
with authentic rhythm
assemble gods of energy
write out, light up the abyss
speak out, quench the abyssum
baby steps and leave that abyss alone
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 4:35 PM UTC
To be human
I think it's bad,
To be human,
A peanut in a shell,
Destroying our own society,
Then landing straight in hell.
I think is bad,
To be a human I mean,
Not taking every life as a charm,
Cutting down all the trees
Until there's not even one.
It's shameful,
To be human I mean,
Locked inside a cage,
Forced to vote and ride life's boat
Then die of cancer or old age.
It's misfortune,to be human,
In a sand trap of our oan greed,
Not even thinking about what it takes to make a penny,
A fishing rod,or a simple shirt sleeve.
I think it's pointless,
To be human,when we can be so much more,
Instead if tearing down our hell hole and
"weathering" it's floor.
It's like a prison,to be human,
Locked in the golden cage,
Only let out when you've done your job,
Destroy the world to its old age.
I think,its sad,to be human,
Having the emotions nothing else can feel.
And then trying to communicate to ones that won't understand.
I think,it Bullshit,to be human.
I'd rather be a deer.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 1:22 AM UTC
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.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 4:48 AM UTC