"whar" poems
am fae a toon that's done so bad
they gave it twa D's
whar the future greets
o' barren streets
on starless nights
an' the same ald wind
a suppose
ah wi kin dae is sing
an' sing wi dae
but no in tune
for ev'ry uphill
there's anither twa doon
an' some *****
howlin' awa' at the moon
it's quite the place meh toon
am gona quit the place quite soon
as I finish writin' this doon
an' tak' a last wee look
at the failin' toon
that helped write this book
Dec 20, 2023
Dec 20, 2023 at 10:10 AM UTC
In the year 1332, at auld Dupplin Moor,
Wi' a shimmering Dagger of War,
Ah pierced the Looking Glass,
And amid so wild a Fire Mass,
Ironclad and devastating,
Mine awn Wraith cam.
Owre He beheld me!
His Claymore gleaming, unsheathed,
Into a darkness no one could see,
Ghaist, I winna yield to thee!
Across yon shield wa, quo' He,
In tyme of war ah threw myself,
Wi' gilded Targe and unforgiving Fury,
High flames falling athwart my iron wame,
While thoosan times boiling wapin fell
O'er that clan of skellums (Wundor Sceawian!)
Frae the white barbican, before the black well,
While thoosan times rising nae fellow-mortal
Amid thoosan deadly onslaughts
Ironclad frae the Fire;
But now man, to my warlike whisper do listen:
Ere the rust, in robes of Time,
Shall curse thy blade,
Airn fist ye maun ay wear,
To hold the Firestorm,
To avenge yon star shining still,
And auld Duntulm's stane,
Sae ah shall be strolling forth
In battle ahead of thee!
And when before Dirleton's Wa,
Wi' Colour of Hell reddening,
And next to auld South Ruin,
Yell warlike, enraged Wha Daur!
To thy enemies, and to thy consumed flesh
Doomed I say no longer
Within a forerunning Shade of Death;
And now advance! thy lane, and faithfu'
To thy auld Emblem of Steel,
Whar moorlan winds gaed,
Whar Immortality gleamingly dwells.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 3:40 AM UTC
The wind carries my cries,
the rain pours down my tears,
but still you hear,
yet you dont seem to see.
All the hurt,
All the pain,
But I guess it was my fault,
for holding it in,
saying its fine,
then letting it out,
through my arms.
Watching it bleed.
Letting it flow.
but I wasn't crazy,
I just wanted you to see,
that there was hurt n' pian,
just too much for me.
Now you sing my lulaby,
as I sleep cold still,
and there will be no blood.
The wind will carry no cry.
The rain will pour down no tears,
cause you sang my lulaby,
that only the dead could hear.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
Well there’s Hooverville
on the edge of the river
haint nuttin boot flimsy cardboard
e’en with clothes will shiver
waiting for tension to be released
like a arrow in a taut quiver
major organs ready to burst open
cuz day r all a failin'
unless salvation does da liver
from a stingy farmer
nada one of him a giver
Hence a goin to Cali for n’ya
in battered up truck n wailin wah wah
ta feed da chill n beasts o burr den –
‘cept un shaw
if me pa
will ever appear on Oprah
whar guest’s literary car –
rears into grand prix hoopla
An win free dim lifts us lock a hawk,
this kid rock will nah
dat he suffered faw a distant few cha
migrants we may be – butta we bah
dog on judas priest, Christ and allah
Rose of Sharon wool extend
da family tree
dat ma will live to see
re:
charging the Joad jalopy
in part from me
tink rin hands dat like ta mess
with oil hand stains
one mo scar – craning neck 2 earn
An huh tha red badge of courage
upon this Okie
hunched o’er with stiff back
while wounded knee
continually bunged up with utter glee
at engine cough fin smoke
to *** us free
whar we kin sally in da pacific fields yipeee.
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
trump - hide and run for headline cover before armageddon
arc de triomphe interesting facts
if zee al chemist trump doth win go hide in the bunker
to save your ***
brace yourself as this don holed
confabulates that gold iz brass
and conjures prestidigitation
like spinning false hoods in2 truth - crass
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
a synonym force head fabricator -
will threaten democracy, thus be afraid
as this pompous voice quotes
from hiz playbook, which = a charade
the hard core truths, he
(who i liken to the plague) doth evade
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
and dreams up fault of Barack Obama
for extinction of dinosaurs,
crucifixion of Jesus Christ
down fall of the Roman Empire,
or far tethered Fred Flintsone ca fetching an escapade
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
yea...this rip pub lick'n presidential contender
evinces a psyche frayed
building and monopolizing castles in the sky -
nonexistent as a grade
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
school fib - or donning role
as play ground bully teaming with ivan
the terrible to dominate the greensward
in the above fiction, but...man
that loose canon dressing his
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"make america great again" gag line - whar i ran
and mid eastern countries will rise
as one cheering him as star of global hit parade
despite any raging oppositional pandaemonium
birth er ring a conflagration
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
kenya believe the world acquiesces
to thine projected masquerade
blocking im grate shunning crowds -
which number of people rival in size
taller (if stack one atop thee other)
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
than the trump tower casino or high rise
with his signature - hm...mebbe funds provided
by drug lords, the swedish house mafia
or terrorist ties???
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
whom security details silence by tossing a hand grenade
sham on you Potemkin village people for quaffing draughts
from elixir purportedly to transform visage with trademark
swept back, wavy and coiffed hirsute.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 12:40 AM UTC
trainers? who the ****
needs new trainers?
i want the sort of music
i can cry to...
oh...
right...all alclohlics
don't cry genuine
tears...
well..
hello *******
paedohpile priest
child molly-molly
****** what?
i thought i was told
that crying
over classical
music
was taboo?
sure, sure, like... me...
'ere 'ere...
best of a 2 h
screen shot,
not having spet
watching
a washine machine cycle,
or what some people
call, "conspiracy theory"
by, moo'd'ern'
stand'oods...
what?
oh right... ****
**** without a samurai
sword agitation,
must be a white thing...
is that even a...
a...
an even...
a that...
a a...
you want to play
this game?
i keep forgetting
to play it...
but i undermine myself
with a reminder...
there's genuine
interest
in donning this
shit-fest
of the clash,
*** the beatles...
mersey... come
the thames...
like i said before...
you can't provide a stable environment
for island dwelling
people...
freaks!
unless...
they are mutually
exclusionary...
"off"... their "fellow"...
invading barbarians...
oh sure...
the native communities changed...
come the 1950s...
but with the european migrantion
from the late 00s...
of the expansion
of the european union?
don't worry...
most of the pollacks left...
you're just left
with the ********** ****
gangs...
no worries!
chill! chill!
what are you getting hot &
bothered about?!
chill!
i'm no jew,
i'm not existentially..
globak pro...
fugitive...
the english bird
high up 'n' arms...
protectionist...
while all you want to do...
is **** a
sydney watson
or a delta goodrem...
bad ******* idea to send off
convicts...
what?!
who's bewldered playing
a who's who?
do i look like a ******* stalemate
of an englishman?
i need 1980s pop songs!
what?
i'm a sensitive beast
with a lack
for a concern for a sense
of humour!
whar?!
i don't like
humour,
that doesn't prompt
itself to continue
with a genesis of slap-stick!
you know what
fetish-porn is to me?
tina turner...
mingling with
sydney watson....
that's **** to me...
either that...
or... jerking off to
a bronzino...
or some 20th century
apocalyptic nostalgia
of...
what would never
become
the tinder,
the fb,
and...
what i best serve
for the blank
stated waiting
game...
but i'm not even
english!!!!!!
when you're eased
out of a delusion,
finding yourself,
recluse,
with a relief,
bound to the ability,
to extract
an authentic tear.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
It had started to rain
as I got to Hannah's flat door.
I knocked
on the black
door knocker.
Hannah's mother
answered the door
and stood there unsmiling
whar dae ye want?
she said.
Hanna said
to come over
yesterday
to play chess
I said.
Tae play chess is it
she said
as if not moving
her thin lips.
Yes she said
yesterday.
Best come in 'en
she said
moving to let me in
then closing the door
after me.
Sit in th' sittin' room.
I went and sat
in the sitting room.
Hanna's in th' lavvy
she said
and she walked off
to the kitchen.
I looked around
the room
I'd been there before
a few times.
I always felt
like a fly waiting
for the big spider
to come.
The toilet chain flushed
and the door opened.
I heard voices
then Hannah came
into the sitting room.
O you are here
she said
I was in the toilet.
Yes your mother said.
Did she bite
your head off?
No just said
to come in
and sit here
I said.
Come to my room
and we can play at chess
she said.
So I followed her
to her room
and she shut the door.
I sat on her bed
while she reached
under her bed
for the chess set
in a well worn box.
She set it on the bed
and put the pieces
where they should be.
I watched her
plump hand
moving the pieces
on the board.
Her brown hair long
but tied back
in a ponytail.
Once she'd done
she sat the other side
of the chess set.
Shall we begin?
she said.
Sure
I said.
You go first
she said.
I moved a pawn
two movements forward.
I could hear
her mother
in the kitchen
banging tins about
and cursing.
Bet she's burnt herself
Hannah said
she always forgets
the oven glove.
She said it coolly
no sign of emotion
no sense of love.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 3:28 AM UTC
This averred title announced straight
away so lingering fans
(hoop fully letting me abbreviate)
a short cut so ye
can up and evacuate,
while metered time,
not yet foregone and not to late
hence best heed mine caution
which can protect minimum damage,
asper gray matter within pate
or blithely ignore
admonishment, aye accentuate
hmm...okay,...you apparently
decided to forsake adequate
prophecy, resigning despite
honest to dog admission to punctuate
a most unpleasant prediction,
I did woof lee aerate
worst case scenario,
leaving disabling genetic trait
to effect generations,
where legions of lesions adulterate
causing future offspring to mutate
and closely resemble
teenage mutant turtles, this potentate
(albeit self declared
only mein kampf, thee only life,
his existence he can arrogate
he doth officiate),
hence proceed at your own risk,
to avoid unpleasant fate,
visited upon unborn sons and daughters
uttering imprecations
unintelligible expletive laced spate,
that would approximate
(a cross between duck and pig)
incoherently gutturally excoriate
ting tee, thus don't tell me, I didn't
forewarn ya, whar
yar heart might palpitate,
thus causing da ole
ticker to fluctuate
dem eyes of yaws
could severely dilate,
while sweat gushes out every pore
streaming like liquid useless tube video,
a salty sea would then perspirate
out every last drop of fluid,
erupting magmatic plasma
to pool agglomerate
right under keister,
a lovely bag of bones
delivered to Norristown State
which inability to hydrate,
hence resultant mummification
heroic measures futile
thus humane decision would necessitate
and remaining days
on Earth numbered
starting with zero, not very great,
now this extinct reptile
hoop heed dead gratefully,
express message, and clearly articulate.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
To Be Pressed By A Dumbbell
Two fifteen pound
steely danse sing
wrought iron dumbbells
ill-tempered, impatiently,
and intensely a weight
their turn to hmm... press me,
and forthwith dense trait
heavy handed prestidigitation
to yours truly, this primate
currently attempting
to craft sad excuse
for a poem, sans far fetched
notion, aye trite re: late
engendering, foisting, and goading
bizarre lifelike qualities
to inanimate solid helpmate
to build (and/or oven
just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully,
resignedly wince, where washboard
abdomen long a goner
impossible to recoup,
whar hide didst narrate
ting hours sculpting great
former Adonis build
on these, now nada so lovely
bones, and experience
spiritual strife to oscillate,
perhaps witness sing
angst to esse skill late
heady feeling healthy vim within
myself, how just
with verily at least dedicate
half hour exercise can be great
for body, mind, and
soul triage, otherwise...
basic gravitational laws
of physics gladly
hand me unwanted fate,
how gradually physique
will eventually demonstrate
flabby, droopy, and
unwanted addy post tissue create
ting another reason to berate,
castigate, emasculate, where
self repudiation will germinate
(albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly
doth relinquish fitness regime
resulting sparking, and taste
testing casus belli dictate
tête-à-tête, viz hasty
unconditional surrender to
a void mortal kombat,
which latter, would exterminate,
the forces of yin and yang,
re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur,
thence finding me fraught,
(yule hiss see - uselessly)
grant ting soul
option to disintegrate,
in the event emotional civil war,
rents asunder every fiber
of mine being, which
wrath wracked wraith self destruction
twill woefully satiate.
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC