Sheena Blackhall

Silver Star - 3,814 Points (18/8/1947 / Aberdeen)

Sheena Blackhall Poems

1. Gloves -new- 3/29/2017
2. Shoes(3) -new- 3/29/2017
3. A Case For Cigarettes -new- 3/29/2017
4. Deja Vu (2) -new- 3/29/2017
5. Springtime Girls At Uni -new- 3/29/2017
6. Comings & Goings -new- 3/29/2017
7. Shades Of Grief -new- 3/29/2017
8. Pink -new- 3/29/2017
9. 8 English Poems (Comings & Goings) -new- 3/29/2017
10. 8 Limericks In Scots -new- 3/29/2017
11. Welcome In Scots To A New Born Child -new- 3/29/2017
12. 11 Poems In Scots (Comings & Goings) -new- 3/29/2017
13. The Maggie Centre Aberdeen 2/15/2017
14. One Day Soon 2/15/2017
15. Siskins 2/15/2017
16. Broughtyferry Youth Assaulted Barman With A Gannet 2/15/2017
17. 4 English Poems From Thursdays 2/15/2017
18. The Ravens In The Tower 2/19/2017
19. Fordlandia 3/5/2017
20. Three Famous Guests En Plein Air 3/8/2017
21. Recycling 3/8/2017
22. The Wandering Womb 2/5/2017
23. Scots Poems From Thursdays 2/15/2017
24. Leave-Taking 8/31/2016
25. The Wake 8/10/2016
26. Are You Planning A Funeral? 8/10/2016
27. Death Certificate 8/12/2016
28. Crossing The Bridge (English Poems) 8/12/2016
29. Salvador Dali 8/14/2016
30. Napoleon 8/14/2016
31. Let's Pretend 8/16/2016
32. Walking The Mat 9/11/2016
33. Union Street Reflections 9/26/2016
34. About Death 9/26/2016
35. Out Of The Fire 9/26/2016
36. The Seely Howe (English Poems) 9/26/2016
37. The Seely Howe (Scots Poems) 9/26/2016
38. For My First-Born, Dead 10/30/2016
39. The Seer 10/30/2016
40. Abbotsford (Scots Poem) 10/30/2016
Best Poem of Sheena Blackhall

Immigrant

I can't imagine dying in this land.
The neighbours here have doors graffiti-red
‘Why are you brown? ' another pupil asked
‘I think because my folks are brown, ' I said

Out on our landing, someone's dumped a bed
I dream in Hindi. I don't understand
The baby words in English in my school book
At games, or dancing, no one takes my hand

I miss the smells of curry, frangipani,
The steaming chai at Delhi's teeming stalls
The cooking fires. I even miss the sewers
The thieving monkeys with their chattering calls

I miss the temple incense, the bright ...

Read the full of Immigrant

Wolf Prints

I write in a cold climate.
There may be a moon,
There may not. There may be snow,
There may not.
I write from need, from no-need.
I write from joy from no-joy.
My words are stones,
Skimming ancient water.
Finned poems,

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