Hen Utopia (17 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.At the Scots Wird Ceilidh

Stammygasters war hoochin wi clishmaclavers
Stooshies war fechtin wi scunners
Blethers war breengin wi heelstergowdies
Gollachs war lowpin bi hunners

Peeliewallies war bosyin tapsalteeries
Chorers war drinkin wi drochles
An wee Willie Wallicky turned up late
In his semmit an granminnie’s bauchles

Skirlers war birlin wi scutters an footers
A bizzim wis oxterin a craa
A fat whigmaleerie wis blootered’s a peerie
The polis arrested them aa


2.Sleepin Bairn for Jessica

Fin I watch the littlin sleepin
She’s like a swan on the saftest cloud in the warld
I ettle tae jyne her,
Fariver bairnies gyang fin they steek their een

Her lips lirk in a smile. Nae monsters derken her dwaum
Mebbe wee siller bells tinkle on a faraway sphere
Far it’s dawn an the dyew is sweet

Her braith cams in an oot as licht as feathers
Douce and bonnie, her sowl ‘s like new faan snaa


3.Magi McGlynn: tune Brian O’Lynn (traditional)

Magi MacGlynn has a pair o blue een
An a kilt roon his hurdies that the win blaws atween
He’s a wispy moustache an a beard roon his chin
An he sings like a lintie does Magi McGlynn

Magi McGlynn biggt a hoose in Balquidder
Wi branches an stanes an a shakk doon o heather
Whaur the anely soun heard is the burn’s merry din
‘It’s the music o watter, ’ says Magi McGlynn.

Magi McGlynn humphs an Irish bodhran
He can drum up a storm wi ae flick o his haun
If ye happen tae miss him, yer glekit or blin
He’s a luik o distinction has Magi McGlynn

Magi McGlynn in his bender o stanes
Coories doon in the firelicht tae warm his banes
He’s a bard o the roads, ain o Ossian’s kin
He’s a chiel for aa Sizzens is Magi McGlynn

Magi McGlynn has braw stories tae tell
Tae see him, ye’d think he wis Rob Roy himself
He’s as swack as a troot wi a dun-speckled skin
He’d the pride o Balquidder is Magi McGlynn


4.The Michty Finn

Finn stravaigs the gairden
He’s vauntie as a laird
He’s gallus an he’s cocky
Wi his muckle tail up-aired

He swaggers ower the flag stanes
That edge his maister’s girse
Syne clenches ticht his dowp-chikks
Like a miser’s steekit purse

An syne, he licks his hurdies
Ae shank ahin his heid
The Michty Finn, contortionist
The feline’s fiercest breed!


5.Kidnapped.

Young Peter Williamson wis sent
Fae Hirnlay intae Aiberdeen
Tae bide there wi his city aunt
Fa let him play nearby the Green

Doon on the quey stood Captain Ragg
Twa crewmen wi him strang an stoot
They cairried him tae Aedie’s Hoose
A piper drooned his skirlin oot

The voyage tae Americay
Wis hard, the waves an gales war great
The boat, The Planter, wis shipwracked
The crewmen left him tae his fate

Bit wi the daybrakk, rescue cam
A roup held in a nearby toon
Hugh Wilson bid…Peter wis bocht
The dealer brocht the haimmer doon.
Hugh deid, an left him aa his gear
His saiddle, shelt, his hinneybees
His luck hid changed…bit for the waur
The Indians catched him in the trees

Twa times a slave! Bit he escaped
Sailed hame, dressed as an Indian chief
An traivelled back tae Aiberdeen
Bit frae his trials fand nae relief

They banished him, bit Peter focht
For compensation for his past
An bocht a howf in Edinbro
An lived a happy chiel at last!


6.The Holy Guaird

The Green wis common lan for aa
Tae graze their goats, their yowes, their kye
And later, madder yairds war biggt
Far claith, new-made, wis dyed doonbye

Aince, William’s Royal Palace stood
Doon in the Sooth side o the Green
Fan saxty years had passed an gane
The White Friars cam tae Aberdeen
An far the Lion o the Scots
Had bedd, they biggt their friary
The Carmelites, fa cam tae teach
Tae gairden, heal, tae kneel an pray

Nigh on three hunner years, the Green
Wis hame tae caunle, bell an buik
An shady orchard o the friars
A haly an a peacefu neuk

But syne reformers cam tae wrakk
Tae loot an spulzie, kill each friar
Fin brither Francis stood alane
They stabbed, syne tossed him on the fire

An orra ploy. An yet, this day
Fin starnies flicker on the Green
The hooded Brither Francis guairds
His ghaistly home in Aiberdeen


7.The Sacrist

The Marischal College students hid
A gleg ee’d sacrist, legends say
Caad Downie. He’d clype on their fauts
An hae them fined near ilkie day

Medical students! His great hate!
He herried them..a nesty blicht
Till seeven met inbye the quad
Tae ponder foo tae set things richt

The plot wis hatched. Tae Downie cam
An invitation tae atten
A meetin at a nearby howf
At rooms, a pleisunt time tae spen

The sacrist rigged himsel wi care
An set aff tae be wined an dined
Bit at the howf, the students raise
Wi blinfauld, gag, an towes tae bind

‘We are baith judge an jury here
We’ve met tae try ye for yer life
An if a guilty verdict’s fand
An axeman’s here, wi shairpened knife

Guilty o discipline ower harsh! ’
The students held their fae in check
They gart him kneel, an smilin, ane
Skelped a weet flannel on his neck.

Wi a queer sigh the sacrist fell
‘It’s jist a jest. We’ve lowsed yer bans’
Bit Downie lay, baith stiff an cauld
He’d deid o terror at their hauns

An gin ye pass the Marischal gate
An hear an eildritch, gurly mane
It’s nae the students. They ran aff
It’s Downie, frae his ghaistly hame


8.Incomin

I’m saxty three years auld. It’s Februar
Snell wins an blin-drift’s forecast, roch an coorse,
Wi icy roads an peely-wally sun,
Somelike a slice o lemon, weety, wersh

The gairden’s crined, the flooers hae dwined awa
The haar rowes up the river frae the sea
Fin I wis wee, the fog-horn eased tae blaw
A maen as dreich’s the deid-thraa o a bull.

My laddie’s in the hoose, expectant faither
His wife is near her time, the bairn is kickin
She’s wabbit, deintie craitur, hyne awa
Frae scents an sichts o Saigon, silks an rice

Chinee New Year’s jist by, nae temple gongs
Or firecrackers brichten up her day
She trauchles back an fore, a faithfu wife
Chappin the veg I canna even name

She’ll nae forget the time her first-born cam
The howdie roarin English in her lug
Her bairn will haud twa cultures in each neive

I mynd ma ain first born’s sair doon drappin
Booin ma back inby the jizzen bed
Watter, swyte an bluid his first libation.

Sae short a whylie back, this lassie’s merriege
Rose petals skittered fur her passin feet
Noo she’s bin pued an wheeched ootower the ocean
Intae the trauchle o the wifely darg
Her een are calm an smilin like Auld Asia
Born tae thole fitiver weird she’ll dree.


9.Meen-time

The meen abeen the ferm hings hauf skweejee
Hunkerin doon hoch-heich in dyewy girse
That swyes alang the ley, a reeshlin sea

The byre an barn are twa blaik beeny breets
The stoor o day has sattled deep in corn
The teenie violet steeks its purple ee

Fowk lie abed, the sheets pued roon their nebs
Lattin the oors o wark sype aff like swyte.
In wids, wee moosies steer far hoolets flee

Tod’s hungered littlins in the den maun wyte
For patterin paws tae bring them bluidy gifts
The meen’s the time fur lovers, an the gyte.

A shooer o rain pit-pitters aff the reef
In cars parked far up laybys, couples birze
For houghmagandie’s sweetest mangst the trees
The scentit aipple an the rosit firs


10.The Hues o Flooers

The yalla daffs an pee-the-beds are skyrie
Drappit suns, lichtenin the girssy sheugh
Bricht stammygasters in Spring’s hurly-burly

Heather is purple, kingly, its hairt beat
Its empire takkin in hale Bens an glens
Merchin alang the corries, laired in peat

A rose is crammosie’s a corbie’s beak
Powkin amang some deid bawd’s raw intimmers
Wi thorns as jobby as a kittlin’s teeth

Blue’s the forget-me-not aneth the whin
Ryped frae a lift wi feint the cloud in sicht
Like the new veins aneth a newborn’s skin

Snawdrops are pearlins on the lug o cauld
Booed ower like some auld carlin-wife, twa-fauld.


11.The Singin Sycamore, Fadlydyke

John Constable wad hae lued this ferm
Wi its neuks o leaf an sky
Far a singin sycamore fills wi sang
Bi the side o a sheugh ootbye

The ferm cat’s fat as a butter baa
A pyoke o pieces an purrs
Streeked oot on her side, wi limbs ootraxxed
Like a Hollywid star, on furs

A rabbit sits wi its lugs straicht up
Een fu o the myxi blicht
A mavis cheeps on the bar o a fence
A warble o tune an licht

The rose hips fatten in sheugh an brae
A wasp crawls ben a booer
A buzzard hings like a gibbet’s airm
Tensed up for the killin clooer

A moch the size o a finger nail
Gaes flichterin ower the brummils
Syne faulds its wings an dauchles a while
An catches its pech, an trimmles

Blink-bonnie day wi a lift o blue
Sae warm, ye cud tirr yer sark
Clouds drap doon frae the heivens abune
Tae reest on a Buchan park

Tractor wheels wi their coats o glaur
Dwaum near-haun cattle trochs
An a bawd gaes breengin amangst the corn
Wi the sun on its hairy hochs

The rooks like seety washin pegs
Are stung on the telegraph wires
An the moosewabs threidin the skirps o strae
Climm wannerin willes’ spires

The singin sycamore’s hidden birds
Cheep up tae the sun abeen
Bit the fite-faced hoolet’s oorie hoot
Is a sang tae the derk an meen


12.Noddies
According to the tinkers 'Burkers' were doctors who were helped by medical students called 'Noddies.’

Fa could forget Auld Donald, his neb like a beet
Sweyin hard, the wirthless sot, bi the medical college
Shakkin his beggin bowl?

He didna believe the killin tales
O fowk snatched aff the road bi student sawbeens,
Donald, fa sang like an angel
Through a moo o brukken teeth,
Donald wi his lucky siller saxpence in his buit,
Aywis a rumour hingin aff his lip
Naebody else wad wirk the college stance.


Vanished, he did, in the deid o winter
Wheeched awa bi anatomy men
His siller saxpence spent in a student howf

The doctors’ coach gaed saftly roon thon neuk
The soun o the cuddies’ hooves smored wi paddin
Efter they passed, nae hide nor hair o Donald
Anely a wee trail dreepin reid on the snaa

John Stewart swore it stank like a butcher’s shop,
Thon fiendish coach, its fleer aa punched wi holes
Tae let the bluid escape, an keep things tidy-like

Hare-lip Mary fa cleaned the fires at the howf
Said that the wheels dug wechty in the snaa
Though the driver chiel vowed sair the coach wis teem

It saved the toun the cost o a pauper’s kistin
The fowk agreed. Forbye,
A sawbeen’s got to learn his trade on somebody.


13. The Cailleach’s Sang

I had twa brithers, noo I hae nane
I sit in the greenwid aa alane
Heedrum hodrum the mist furls roon
Makkin the threids o an auld wife’s goun

I had twa lips that war vrocht tae kiss
Little eneuch they kent o bliss
Heedrum hodrum the mist furls roon
Makkin the threids o an auld wife’s goun

The flax is green, the flax is weet
That growes tae wyve my wyndin sheet
Heedrum hodrum the mist furls roon
Makkin the threids o an auld wife’s goun


14.Kittlin

oo-raivellin clook raxxin moose-keppin bird-knellin
milk-suppin cassie-breengin waa-lowpin tree-scrattin
claith-clookin sun-dwaumin hoch-flechin tail-yarkin
spurgie-eein threid-jummlin luv-lowsin plate-peengin
wauk-queenin wids-reengin nicht-skreichin fusker-trimmlin
lino-pykin dug-blooterin wyme-stappin KITTLIN


15.Oor Willie’s Report Card

Work habits are improving: Your Wullie is a lazy vratch
Eager to share in classroom discussions: Blethers aa the time
Spirited at the cost of accuracy: Gypes aboot. Screives like a hen scrattin
Does well when he focuses on task: Needs a minder tae haud him doon
With encouragement, socialises well: Spens playtime in the heidie’s office
Has difficulty transitioning from outdoor activities: Like a flech on speed
Finds classroom routines problematic: A back-spikkin wee scunner
Could benefit from greater home support: A hett dowp wadnae gyang amiss
William has yet to reach his full potential: Glekit an din-raisin footer


16.The Speckled Cauldron (Corryvreckan)

The hag o Winter, Cailleach Bheur
Steered up the waves tae wash her plaid
The speckled cauldron o the sea
A whirlpuil feared bi man an maid

The Norse Prince Breakan socht tae woo
A Princess o the Western Isles
Her faither socht tae keep her hame
Bi stratagem an cunning wyles
Tae win the lassie for his bride
The Prince maun brave the whirlpuil’s rage
Three days an nichts tae anchor, in
The fiercest maelstrom o the age

Back hame tae Norroway he sailed
An vrocht three cables strang an ticht
O hemp, an oo, an vergins’ hair
Frae lassies pure as Heiven’s licht

On the first day the hemp towe snapped
The oo upon the secunt, brakk
On the third day, the maidens’ hair
Sindered. The boat cowped on its back.
An roon an roon aneth the waves
The prince, his faithful dug an crew
Furled roon. Ae sailor an a dug
Survived the hellish cauldron’s brew

On Jura syne the grey dug searched
On Scarba tae, his maister socht
He tried tae cross the watery strait
Tae Lunga…bit aa cam tae nocht

Lowpin tae reach a hauf-wye isle
He slippit in the ragin tide
Faithfu as iver tae the eyn
In daith, he won the Prince’s side

In Norroway the ladies grat
Ae stran o thon fair-cuttit pleat
Cam frae a quine impure in wyes
A limmer, free wi favours sweet

The Princess o the Western Isles
Fand her true luve upon the stran
An in the king’s cave beeriet him
A stranger in thon savage lan

An there he lies. On stormy nichts
Fin Cailleach Bheur wheeps up a storm
Ye’ll see a grey dug in the lift
An hear Prince Breakan’s huntin horn


17.Girl with Dead Canary: Jean-Baptiste Greuze

Luik at the quine wi the deid canary!
Fit is the bird’s obituary?
Stuffed tae daith wi sweeties an treats
An smored in the depths o lassie’s breists