The Dule Tree (21 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.Displacement

Granfaither bred milk kye, hard uddered, fu o cream
Shires fur the ploo. Reid wattled, bigsy cocks
He raised gweed oats frae roch an steeny knowes
His gift, tae tryst gowd corn frae the blaik yird.

It's in the bluid. Ma hairst's the prentit wird
Ma stots an stirks roar frae a paper pen
They gurr an flech, live anely on the page
Their rank pee fulls the ennui o ma days

Ma cousin, like masel o fermin stock
Keeps herds o porcelain kye inby a press
A bowfin collie bares a varnished woof
Her nowt staun still on ilkie cheena hoof
Her yowes are reeted teetle weel-fired graiss

Oor rural reets hae runkled, run agley
Her breets are pottery.Mine, makk poetry
Baith born tae be ferm-fodder. Feylike wark
breets fand in press an page, insteid o park


2.Buchan in Winter

Buchan. The lan is twa third sky,
Heich cloods o oceans waucht ootbye,
Far skurries sweem, forked swifties sail,
Galleons o haar breist gurly gale.

The parks lie laigh. Nae Bens raise prods
Tae teir the face o Heiven's brods.
The deein sun bleeds crammosie
Ower derkenin steadin, dwaumin lea.

Here, Winter cowps his creel o sna.
Here, hop-scotch leaves blaw clean awa
Far starnies shine like wolvine een,
Shards o Eternity, abeen.


3.Easter Lammie For Philip ct Vicki Watt, New Deer

Yowes bleat in the pitmirk park,
A new-born baa girns bi a crunchin jaa
Noisily chawin girse ben frosty oors.
A hoolet flichters fae a muckle elm.
Here rubbits, the grey watchers o the nicht,
Hunker doon in their fur, like nests o ghaists.

Cauld Heiven glimmers ower the sleepin ferm.
On bucklin queats the blearie new-born lamb
Hyters ben the dark in its bluid-reid sark,
Aa at saxes an seevens.
The mither powks wi her snoot
This chitterin maik o hersel, a testy dam.

Wives better thole the years
O weddit argy-bargy, tyauve an scutter,
Servin the faimly genes wi warmer platter,
Fin littlins roon the hairthside nyitter-nyatter.
This sheep- warld's oo an girse.
Each life merked oot bi birth, ram, mitherin, daith,

Sma milesteens fae hett pulse tae cairdit fleece.
Yowes maun be fertile, they maun multiplee,
This is their greatest function an their eese.
Sheep dinna quit the warld like rotten neeps.
Fae shakky, shudderin wames, bleat efter bleat,
On sturdy shanks, they leave their seed ahin,
On fower stinch feet aside the grey-steen dyke,
Drap Innocence an Purity, hauf-blin.
An this is foo, since Time an Tide began,
A Buchan fermer welcomes Easter in.


4. Keekin Glaiss

Unner the mill wheel birls the burn
Glaiss, is onything mirrored there?
The fey Green Man...dae his craiturs burn?
Glaiss, is the Warld's Future bare?

The Dark is sleekit, the Dark is slee ―
Glaiss, the days ower yer surface flee
Like threids unraivelled fae tapestry.
Keekin glaiss, is there room fur me?

Mystery sleeps in the muirlan bog
There, yer terrible face is black.
Hinna ye heard o Tir-nan-Og?
Glaiss, I wish that yer sides wad brakk.


5. The Changlin Burn

The Linn that niver sees the sun
Cams tummlin doon unaskit ―
Tho dreich an dowie is its warld
Its weird's tae be disjaskit.

Roon draps o dule its watter laps,
An skelps like blyther burns
Tho feint the sunbeam brichts its broo,
The dowie Linn that murns.

Widdershins roon Life's nerra neuks
Gyang baith thon burn an I.
Yet whyles, doon fae the gowden lift,
Licht pierces derkness. Shaddas shift
Like wauchtin glimmers o spendrift,
The fireflaucht sun sens by.


6.Burn Watter

Clear ice bree, bubbles abeen caul steens
Like champagne jibblin ower a crystal quaich.


7. The Dule Tree, Leith Hall

The Dule Tree's reets rin deep an wide,
Its airms are theeked wi moss,
An dreich an dowie is its makk
Lang Shadowlan o Loss

The coorse, the ootlinned an the craa
War aywis gallows-meat;
The Past eenoo, wi its gap-mou,
Hings there wi swingin feet

The waesome wecht o centuries,
Foul pestilence an wars,
Fierce storms, hae gien its timmer sides
A rowth o battle scars.

The meen flees faist, fur fear that she
Micht fooner in the mirk.
Nae sanctuary in the Dule Tree,
Fyled wi its bluidy wirk.

In birdsang Mey the birks are braw,
Aa's grace an idleness
Twa coortin swans glide ower the puil
As smeeth's a keekin glaiss;

Bit sweetest Joy maun hae its Grief,
A flaw's in ilkie jewel,
Spring may be bride, bit by her side
There stauns the Tree o Dule.


8. Breets seen fae a Tour Bus windae

Camel

Fit's a camel?
A puckle lumps
0 grizzle an girse that fowk caa humps


The Delhi Coo

Ye've heard o the coo that lowpit the meen?
A Delhi bovine is skin an been,
She dines aff paper an peel an claes,
A traffic jam's far she spens her days ―
Ye may toot yer horn bit she'll anely moo
A thrawn like breet is a Delhi coo.

Dauncin Bear
Ane o seeven Sloth bears
Hauled ben the road
Set towrist cameras snappin.
Eater o termites an fruit
Forced tae hyter ben bywyes
Thrang wi honkin larries, sweyin bullock cairts

Jungle hermit tholin the powks o fowk.
Hummlit an tamed, spice fur the furreign palate
He daunces, a mou fu o rage
Bit teethless, teethless.

The noontime monkey spits at him,
The jackal lauchs at him,
The camel weirin a cap o scarlet tossles
Passes by wi a sneer.
Sax fit an twinty steen
0 Asian bear, led bi a chokin towe;
His muckle heid a mane o tummlit pouer.

Glowerin fae hurtin een,
Twa great teem ruins, hame tae ghaistie thochts ―
Anely the waas remainin,
Derk wi shaddas.


Hindu Coo

If I cud be a Hindu coo,
I'd haud up ilkie bus;
I'd mooch an pee wi attitude. I'd be promis-coo-us

I'd splatter pats in shoppie doors, the coorsest coo in Delhi,
An I'd be signed bi Bollywood, an moo upon the telly


Jaipur Pig

A hairy black pig in a sewer, hit bi elephant keech in the stoor
Said 'My, fit a surprise, denner's drapped fae the skies,
In Jaipur there's a shooer o manure'.


9. Hauns

There wis this far road that gaed up an doon
An aawye ye traivelled the hauns war broon;
Thin, they war, wi skaith oppressed,
Fur a twa, three coins, yer heid they blessed,

An the blin men dytered an dwaumed an tapped
At the door o yer conscience they chapped an chapped.
There wis hauns at yer elbuck, yer pooch, yer knee
And the mantra chanted wis Gie, gie, gie.

I bocht a skirt that I didna need
Cud hae fulled twelve mous wi a fortnicht's breid,
The siller I wastit on nocht ava
Could hae claithed a clachan an bigged a haa.

I bocht a buik that I wadna read
Could hae fulled a pyoke wi a hairst o seed,
An noo each day fin I steek my een
In ma fine safe toun, in ma fine stoot sheen,
I think on the hauns I didna shakk
Thin hauns that a coin could mar or makk.
Bit the wheel his spun, an the chaunce is gien,
An moosewabs growe ower the beggar's speen.


10. Harem in Fatehpur Sikri

Like leddies o Shallott, their snibbit lives.
They flash like parakeets across oor thocht;
We anely guess at Akbar's coontless wives,
Rich flooers, wi Akbar's pouers, easy bocht

And yet, unlike their sisters in the ferm
Each wad hae etten, slept safe in her bed,
Coonted the days fae couplin aff each month,
Kennin the Moghul's love-bairns wad be fed

Their anely task, tae braid their scented hair,
Tae spread their thighs fin ordered tae his lair
The harem keeps its secrets. Western een
Can anely guess at ghaisties ower and gaen.


11.It's a Sair Fecht:

It's a sair fecht keepin the wolf fae the door
Fin `Hello', -he sez,
Caimbin his touslie fur wi manucured clooks,
Tuckin his tail in his troosers nice as pie,
Wi yon wee smile on his face
Like butter widnae melt in his hairy moo.

Afore ye can say 'Boo' he's in!
An here wis you
Thinkin his name wis Lido,
Fin aa the time it really wis Hard Times.

Noo he's chawin the fat aneth the table,
Leavin the scraps fur ye.
Crunch Crunch Crunch
An the electric due, ye ken,
The final warnin.


12. Howdie

Yon chiel wi the parchment skin, mou like a thin bruise,
Fa'd hae thocht he'd worn a Maori Mask,
Mendit multi-storey lifts?
Daunced tae a Thai's queer pipe?

An her in the neuk, the littlin wi tubes in her wyme,
Shaved heid an feart-like een, airms like twa wee spurtles...
Gowden butterflees that's prentit on her tights
Flee roon her crib at nicht gin she jist wills them.
A winnerfu ferlie!

I ken because they tell me.
I am the howdie.
I am the listenin lug
Tae the blate, the slichtit, the fleggit,
Aa them fa keep their stories deep inbye
Like beeriet treisur happit ower wi stoor.

I am the story-howdie.
My darg's tae ease the birth o ithers' tales,
Haudin on praise, hett towels o wirds,
Helpin tae lift the new-born oot, tae skelp life intae't
By settin it doon on the page. By screivin it.
Oh winnerfu tae hear sic tales takk life,
Oh hummlin, tae be hauns-on at the birthin.


13. Incantation

Three times roon I wauk the puil
Tinklin watter.
Puddock sweel
Inno memory's fikey pyoke;
Stap the image, tie the knot.
Syne, fin hyne awa I gyang,
Inbye aa thon sichts are thrang.
Fa'd hae thocht that loch an knowe
Cud set the senses in a lowe?

Three times roon I wauk the puil,
Sun an meen an puddock sweel;
Lest thon ferlies I should tyne,
Cherm an chant shall mak them mine.

14. School Visit of a Scots Specialist

Good morning, I am Mrs X, Head Teacher
I believe.you have contacted the school wishing to visit?

What would you bring to our classes here?
What would you come to tell?
I'd bring ye a leid baith stoot an guid
Aince spak bi the king himsel.

Is there a need to sow such seed
Br stories, poems and words?

Fin Scots steps oot tae the nation's youth
It rins on sangs an girds.

Maybe a poem, once a year
Lip-service to the past?
T'will come like a loon in a scarlet goon,
Nae some sairmade ootcast.

But what of the cost should we welcome it
Through Education's door?

Fit ye gie, ye get. Fit price d'ye set
On a kintra's leid an lore?
The firmament ower the birlin warld
Hauds multiple constellations;
Like a wattergaw foo rare an braw
Are the leids o different nations!

15.Pillow-Pouer / Faain Asleep on the Job

A happenin rises ooto the Muckle Furth
It daunces roon awhile
Shakkin its shanks like Siva in a lowe
Cweels doon lang eneuch tae lowp ahin ma een.

Here, it slooshes aroon in the collective bree
0 five decades o'life in my cailleach - skin.
Syne aff it floats like a boatie, lackin a crew.

Ideas sclim aboord till it's like tae sink;
A fecht brakks oot-like futterats tied in a sack
The winners cobble aboot thegither
Skelpity - skelp.
They argy, warssle an skelloch,
Some's washed aff bi waves o whim...or logic.
Some sproot fite wings, flee aff tae perch in the Arctic
Wytin fur later boats tae thunner by.

Hauf-sinkin unner its mixter-maxter load,
The boatie sails atween heich-touerin cliffs
Inno the midnicht herbour men caa Dream.

Neist month, neist mornin, neist millennium,
Oot she steers, a full-rigged poem,
Sails, trimmed bi subconscious Thocht.
Whiles, she's a rhymin galleon, a haiku coracle,
Whiles she's a clarty tug.

She micht rhyme, or she michtna
I live my life this wey-transform the fey tae wirds:
Poem, tale, novella;
Imagination's the starnie I steer by.


16.July in Arlington

A bluid-reid maple skails a puil o cweel,
The sodjer's polished buits pace twinty-ane.
Green acres haud their beeriet treisur snod,
Gravesteens, fite as cotton, full the parks.

The sodjer's polished buits pace twinty-ane.
Starnies an stripes waucht like an erne's wing.
Gravesteens, fite as cotton full the parks,
A lowpin flame rekinnles Saxties lowe.

Starnies an stripes waucht like an erne's wing.
Fower wheep-tailed shelties pu a glory kist.
A lowpin flame rekinnles Saxties' lowe,
Tour buses veesit the necropolis
.
Fower wheep-tailed shelties pu a glory kist.
A bluid-reid maple skails a puil o cweel.
Tour buses veesit the necropolis,
Green acres haud their beeriet treisur safe.


17. Granmither

She claimed the ingle-neuk in bauchled sheen;
She'd straik, until I sattled like a kittlin,
My bairn-heid in her lap, a wechty steen.

Her westbans cheenged wi sizzens,
Lean tae creash. Her hooded een
Blinked sherp's a hoolet hudderin in a howe
Fite-faced she'd full the cheer aside the lowe.

She wis the tattie-parer o the hoose,
Cleaner o braisse,
Keeper o Faimly Lear.
I niver kent her young, or seen tae weir
Ither than widda-weeds, an auncient loom.

Her lang skirts reeshled, sweyed like staunin hey;
She wis baith hairth an lintel in thon room.
Her wirds hid traivelled wi her throwe the years
Fae crib tae schule, frae merriege, tattie- park ―
Wirds fur lauchter, greetin wirds fur tears,
Smeddum an smachrie, wirds o play an wark.

The anely pairt o her she grippit in,
Hairpreens clappit grey braids tae her heid.
Doverin, she'd dwaum inbye her cailleich's skin.
Her eident fingers held the threids o love ―
They niver dauchlet till the hinmaist yark.


18. Schemie Bairns

Doon oor bit there's mair graffiti
Than the tomb o Nefertiti;
Multistoreys are oor streets,
Windaes fu o dryin sheets,
Socks that wins'll wheep an wheech,
Cassies splattered wi dug-keech.

Ice cream mannie plays a tune, brings wee bairns an mithers roon;
Chippie on the corner stauns, plunkin pyokes in hungeret hauns.

Oor dug Tiger's got a moo that cud gnash the QE2;
Guairds the littlins in the hoose, fin there's muggers on the loose.

Oor da Terry's got tattoos. He's quick tae fecht an quick tae roose
A TV king, the anely een can cheenge the channels on the screen.

Doon oor bit we dinna tell, we keep oor business tae oorsel;
If yer a frien, then gies yer haun ―
Twa bairns agin the warld we staun.


19.Victorian Bairns

Rockin horse, rockin horse, hopscotch an girds,
Governess teachin gweed mainners, fine wirds,
Velveteen breekies, a pair o fine sheen,
A sheltie, a maid an a fine siller speen.

Lum-sweeper, lum-sweeper, barely turned ten,
Cleanin the lums for the fine gentlemen,
Barfit an shilpit, a doon-trodden moose,
He maun wirk fur his maet in the pairish puir-hoose.

Rockin horse, rockin horse, kink hoast, TB,
They're nae respecter o class or degree.
Vauntie young gentlemen, lum- sweeper loon,
Fin the Derk Angel cams baith sleep as soun.


20. Twa Queens

Lace an pomander, pearls an ruffs,
Spanish galleons, dauncin bears,
Streets wi a thoosan different guffs,
Lark for denner, or potted hares.

Walter Raleigh an Francis Drake
Braved the tide fur the English Queen;
The croon sat ill on her royal heid
Till her cousin Mary's sheen war teem.

Mary played in the Dauphin's coort,
Bonnie an jimp, an blythe an braw,
An thocht that life should be luv an sport,
Till the heidsman sneckit her life awa.


21. Auld Man o the Sea

Auld Man o the Sea, Auld Man o the Sea,
Fae yer fish-green watter, fit's this ye gie?

Here lies a tyre a king's coach cairriet,
Here is a ring that a young bride merriet,
Here lies the glove o a lang-gooned quine, `

Mangst bottles, an boxes, braid an twine.
The ocean chaws wi its muckle mawe,
Fit the land-fowk lose or haive awa.
Auld man o the sea, through the weety haar,
These baubles ye bring...hae they come far?

The quine that sleeps at the ocean's foun,
Rowed in an emerald sea-weed goun,
Wi fishies flashin ahin her een,
Auld man o the sea, dis she lie her leen?


22.Cock Craw

The cock craws twice an ilkie ghaist tae its derk chaumer creeps ―
Even fae a new-cauld bairnie's crib, far grievin mither greets.

The craiturs o the cauldrife nicht, thon things o mirk an dwaum,
Maun hap their heid, fur naethin deid maun show its face at dawn.

Craw, cock an heist yer flame-reid croon!
Pipe in the warmth o day!
Fur ae short oor we tread the stoor.
The morn, we're nocht bit clay.


23. Salute tae the Smithsonian. Tune: Rothsay-oh

Three years intae the century
A wheen o Scots flew ower the sea
Bard an cook an seannachie,
Brocht here bi the Smithsonian.

Wi ither fowk the airt wis thrang,
Wi lute an drum an Mali sang
Near Bluegrass Appalachian,
Wi ceilidh bands in Washington.

Chorus:
Far fiddlers bow an banjos play,
The sun gets hetter ilkie day,
A doonpoor wadnae gyang astray
Abeen the stoor o Washington.

The merket place wis quickly fillt
Wi sporran, tape, an patchwirk quilt;
Wi cowrie necklace, tartan kilt
Brocht ower for the Smithsonian.

Try a Kentucky barbecue,
Or Okra stew fae Timbuktu,
Or takk a dram o Scotia's brew
Fae whisky stills in Washington.

There's tales o Gael an Cherokee
Fae Shetlan roon the cauld North Sea
There's knittin, tweed an heraldry
Aa filmed bi the Smithsonian.

The Niger drummers gar ye swing,
The green grass cloggers near takk wing,
There's Reel, Strathspey an Heilan fling
Tae cheer the fowk o Washington.

There's Iwo Jima's flag o fame,
Far heroes fell in thon campaign ―
An Arlington's eternal flame
Burns brichtly ower Washington.

The Potomac rowes brawly roon
The founs o this majestic toon,
Far Martin Luther King laid doon
His life fur aa in Washington.

Three kitchies o the warld hae met;
The meal an ale I'll nae forget―
We hope the sun'll niver set
On frienships made in Washington.

Aroon the warld it's gweed tae myne
Yer culture's fit ye sudna tyne;
The Future's bigged on Auld Lang Syne
Oor thanks tae the Smithsonian.


24. Eird Hoose

Inno the yird's intimmers,
A neukit roadie wynin doon an roon
Like Orpheus micht hae wanneret
Efter tint Eurydice.
A road as blaik as cinners.
Licht dwines till a preen-prick heid;
The tunnel bores farrer inno the pitmirk
Crack that's the wame o the yird
Centuries crummle awa like shaks o seed.

I like tae coorie doon in this tint airt
Oot o the blatterin win, hid frae the cauld souch oYule
Wi'ts cranreuch claas.
The auld eird-hoose is theekit wi girse an breem,
Its gulfs are fooshtie, mochie wauchts o mould,
A blaik chaumer. A derk thocht,
I coorie doon in the derk, in its velvet faulds,
Like a tod, oot o the eird's mineer,
My twa een shinin...
Auncient shaddas steer.