Poems In Scots & English From A Sharp Key Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Bairn Play Villanelle
Feetikins pammer an littlins skirl
Thons the wye the bairnies play
Haud yer lugs they're like tae dirl

Watch wee quinies daunce an birl
Skirts are fleein an hair's agley
Caa the ropies plain an purl

Here's the loon wi the cruikit curl
Plays his lane near ilkie day
Here is a tyke that likes tae gurl

Watters warm, the waves they furl
Dookins braw in the hett sun's ray
A paiddlin laddie pykes his scurl

Here's a cairt…d'ye wint a hurl
Intae the lan far aathin's fey?
Is thon a draigon? A skytie squirrel?
Thon's the wye the bairnies play


A Wee Camsteerie Spell
Ten skirps o collieshangies
Twa jilps o clishmaclavers
A haunfu o langamachies
A toosht o fearie blethers

A skoosh o futterat's piddles
A swatch o tattiepeelins
A ream o warlock's riddles
A skyte o pyson't beilins

The fuskers o a kittlin
Swyte frae a puggie's taes
A waucht o whigmaleeries
Banes frae a carlin's steys

Mell in a midnicht cauldron
As blaik's the earl o hell
Twa steers an the kirn is feenished
The wee camsteerie spell

Music
Music is a butterflee ye canna preen doon
Like the sea soun that sweels in the shell fin held tae the lug
It gars ye trimmle like a sea-anemone
It can wring tears frae a steen

It lowses the yetts o the cage o yer wirkin day
Birds frae the orchestra flee in tae sweeten yer life
It's a heich wire circus swinger, that gars ye haud yer braith
As it rises an faas, rises an faas
It's a wattergaw, a meerimatanzie, a michty linn o notes

Wolves frae their cranreuch airt hear its cauld lament
It floats frae cars an hoose windaes

It is the souns trimmlin on air
Echoes frae the past, the crescendo an staccato o the present


Mrs Jekyll-Hyde
I'm in two minds whether to leave him or not
I can never tell where I stand with him
Mr Punch or Mr Casanova

Will he be kind and loving?
Or wallop me over

Friends don't believe me when I tell them
‘Surely not' they say
‘He's a real star of a man'

But then, he's never hit them like a comet
Out of the blue
When his fists are itchy
It's muggins that carries the can


Grief is a Word
Leaves, husks, seeds, all moulder into mulch
Dusk enters the woodlice a trail of smoke
Drifting and darkening
Years hang like dew from a spider's web
The sediment of mourning sinks to the lees

Sometimes you were merry's a jockey at Ascot
Who'd guess you'd fall before the race was ended

The sky is mother of pearl the oysters empty
In the wood, life's leeched away

Shadows are crow pecked rags
Far off the recumbent hills
Are drained of niggardly sap
Winter has turned things to stone
God has turned off the tap

Under my feet in the impenetrable dark
The sweating worms toil in the blind earth
The periscopes of mushrooms do not rise

I remember your coming your womb wraps
Your feather breathe, my ears two shells
Attuned then to your needs your suckling gums
A seed falls at my feet. I see your face in the clouds
Bring on the undertaker, and the muffled drums


Engorged
The sight of Cousin Jean, suckling her baby boy
At six years old, my eyes ballooned on her swollen breast

Years later I learned the word engorged
Veins choked with milk like the waters of Babylon


The Mourner
Frae the kirkyaird mools tae the bar
Held up atween twa friens
Like Christ on the cross
The pish ran doon his breeks
Free as the tears frae his een
An fa's tae judge on sic a day as thon
Naethin bit drink fur a bereaved da tae lean on
The howl in his hairt like the howl frae a pack o wolves


The Crush
Guests at a Hollywood party rushed in to find a young starlet, fully dressed, writhing in pain on a bed.A day later she died from peritonitis, caused by a ruptured bladder. The star Fatty Arbuckle was charged with first-degree murder, eventually reduced to manslaughter. The star, thought to have weighed about 260lb (118kg) , was portrayed as a fat brute who had pinned down his prey, rupturing her bladder. Later doubt was thrown on the verdict.

Who'd want to sleep with a human blob?
A starlet might to win a two bit part

A real crush. Fatty Arbuckle squashed her flat
Liver, belly and ribs. Lungs, kidneys and heart


Showgirl and Wishbone
In the margin of memory
Hangs a wishbone. Delicate, neat
A twiglet of hens branching ribs
Ravening teeth laid it bare
As a bed stripped of a sheet
It was never honed for a flight path
It is part of the cage the hen has left behind
Like a corset a show girl steps from
One of the feathered kind


Snow White's Credentials
‘You don't come from here, ' they rasped
‘I do' she replied. ‘I can't help being pretty'

‘Your clothes are different' they gasped
She replied, ‘I was born in your city.'

Their prejudice was very tightly clasped
As unlike them, she was both wise and witty


The Winnie Poem
Winnie the Witch and Winnie the Pooh
Were bored and bothered with nothing to do

They climbed a rainbow and stepped on a cloud
‘Get off! ' cried an Angel ‘No Winnies allowed! '

But a high-flying dragon who needed a friend
Cried ‘Hop on my back to the world's end
We'll have such adventures.'And off they flew
The witch, the dragon and Winnie the pooh


The Deckchair's Advert
Sprauchle
Sun-sook
Oot-raxx
I'm a couch fur yer dowp
Skelp on the sun scream
Enjoy

Noah Turns Picky
Absolutely no sharks
I'm closing the doors to
Rottweilers, skunks, and otherundesirables
Can remain at sea, in perpetuity
Or send in references
And a copperplate CV


Toulouse-Lautrec
His family roots ran back to Charlemagne
Were Count-crusaders, wealthy hunting men
Who intermarried to keep money safe
His parent-cousins inbred him disabled

He chose Monmartre, hideaway of cripples
Misfits, whores, bohemians and painters
Meeting like-minded souls in bars and brothels

Absinthe drinkers at the Moulin Rouge
All night parties, artists, patrons, dancers
He was the poster maker of the age
Life was a cabaret, a sleazy stage

The Glutton, Electric Ray, and High Explosive
Nana the Grasshopper, and Chocolat,
He painted un-matched couples ‘Reine de Joie'
And‘A la Mie', drink fuelled, drawn close by need

You couldn't miss him at the Folies Bergère
Full black shovel beard, limbs of a six year old
Malicious wit…then syphilis…Paralysis, a stroke at 35

Then death opened its trap door…just a little
Just above five feet, and he was gone


FiveOwersetts o Cattie Poems

The Cats o Kilkenny (Anon)
There aince wir twa cats o Kilkenny
Each thocht thon wis ae cat ower mony
Sae they focht an they hit
An they scrattit a bit
Till apairt frae their nails
An the taps o their tails
Insteid o twa cats there's nae ony

Cattie; owersett o a poem by Zbigniew Herbert (1924-2000)
He's aa blaik, bit his an electric tail
Fin he sleeps in the sun
He's the blaikest ferlie ye'd think o
Even sleepin, he catches a frichtened moose
Ye can see thon in his wee cleuks
Growin frae his paas
He's unca nice an nesty
He pykes birds aff the trees
Afore they're ripe


Wid; owersett o a poem by Zbigniew Herbert (1924-2000)
A path rins barfit tae the wid
Inside are mony trees, a gowk bird
Hansel an Gretel
An ither wee breets.
Bit there's nae dwarfs
Fur they're aa gaen
Fin it growes derk
A hoolet steeks the wid
Wi a muckle key
Fur gin a cattie creepit in
It wid raelly cause an unca rowth o herm


Pittin Doon the Cattie: Owersett o a poem bi Billy Collins
The assistant hauds her on the brod
The fur hingin lowse frae her wee skeleton
An the vet heists the needle o fluid
That'll draw a line throwe her ninth life

‘Painless, ' he tells me
‘Like coontin back frae a hunner'

Bit I wint tae tell him
That oor puir cattie canna coont ava
Far less tae a hunner
Far less backwirds


Owersett oa Cattie poem frae Cauld Ben Poems, Han Shan (750-800?)
In ither days I wis puir eneuch tae suit
Bit noo I'm jeeled in utmaist puirtith
I makk a bargain- things dinna wirk oot
I takk the road- it eyns in wae an skaith
I wauk in dubs- ma feet skyte oot frae unner
I dowp doon in the shrine- I thole the belly-rive
Sinsyne I tint the mony-coloured cattie
Aroon the rice jar, hungered rattens wyte


Sydney at the Cinema
A little girl called Jessica
Whose pet was Syd the snail
Was taken to the cinema
A treat that would not fail

An when the lights were dimming
From her pocket she fished out
A seashell, and then Sydney
From this cockle he peered out

No worms, no grass, no daisies
Just a noise to wake the dead
Of kiddies' picture trailers
That were far above his head

Popcorn huge as boulders popped
Into pink mouths like cement mixers
While children all around jumped up
As if they'd drunk elixirs

That night with his horns pounding
Returned to his garden den
Sydney slid away, escaped
And sadly was not seen again

The Pangolin
Did ye hear aboot the pangolin
That tried tae play the mandolin
He spoke in Thai an Mandarin
Bit couldnae get a date

Because nae lady pangolin
Could whip up the adrenalin
Tae wyle him as a bidie-in
Rigged oot in armoured plate


Night River
I prick my ears to the lullaby of water
Under the vast configuration of galaxies
The river soothes and cleanses the muggy heat of day
Rhythmic, by fox paths and spray struck water weeds
Rhythmic, by the warm quilt of fields on the far side
Rhythmic, by the out-sprawled suburbs of sleeping families
Dark shapes of salmon, glide like drowning leaves
The river is my kinswoman, my back story
She rattles the time-smoothed stones
Like a shaman, telling the bones


Ode to a Mobile Phone
You're a dead ringer…no fun
When you break up a concert, rudely
No manners- making me
Public enemy number one

You're a disaster
Trickier than a troupe of Gibraltar monkeys
With apps an functions galore
That I'm never going to master

I'm a stop/go, on/off person,
No technocrat
But forget instructions
I'm told they're so old hat

‘Madam, you play around with it
Get to know your phone.'
Really? Why would I want to do that?
‘Hello phone. This is me, your owner
Act up and I'll smash you…splat


The Brock
Brock wis snocherin aneth the grun
Fite an blaik wi a shovel heid
Abune, the win in the trees wis strang
Mony's the fairmer wished him deid
Aathin he did on the ferm wis wrang
Broch wis snocherin aneth the grun

Meen wis sheenine ootower the lea
Brock steppt oot wi a gangin fit
Aff tae the hen hoose, feathery prey
His een wi murder an starlicht lit
Thrapples brukken an heids agley
Meen wis sheenin ootower the lea

Auncient, pouerfu, widlan breet
Jaws as strang as a poacher's trap
A myth, a legend, a waukin gods
Up frae the unnerwarld, tae snap
At wirms in the newly howit sod
Auncient, pouerfu, widlan breet

Primeval laird o a sunken sett
Hyne afore cheils plooed up the yird
Yer forefowk paddit atween the trees
An the anely spikk wis o breet an bird
Far hoolet hoots an the midgies heeze
Primeval laird o a sunken sett
Lang may ye rule the widlan yet

Wasp Stings
The bike resembled a paper ball
Seemingly in a tenantless state
My brother kicked it, unthinking
Wasps in their stings hold hate
He cleaved the day with his screams
Wariness came too late

Buttons the Campus Cat
In the international ranks of cats
Of campus felines, Buttons is best
An Aberdeen tom, with fur like snow
Who stood for rector, with cheek and zest

A political tom, with crowds of fans
Arnold Schwarzeneggar would be jealous
‘Cats not beaurocrats' Buttons cried
The purrfect candidate. Proud and zealous!


Endings
Hemingway could hunt, fish, box and sail
Died by his own hand, American macho man

Attila József, Hungarian,
Threw himself under a freight train
Death derailed him

Kafka, Czech, a German speaking Jew,
Escaped the Nazi death camps
That turned his younger sisters into smoke
T.B. waved him off

Wen-I-To, spoke against Chiang Kai-Check
A terror squad of murderers erased him

Virginia Woolfe stepped into the River Ouse
The tongues of water over her head for once
Her pockets weighted by stones

Jacques Vaché committed suicide as a joke
(Life had the last laugh there)

Proust was a hypochondriac.
To ensure he did not catch cold
His tailor make him several bulky overcoats,
Worn in increasing layers,
like a Russian doll, like a human ball
Despite all this, the great man died of pneumonia