A Scot’s Lament fur her American Fellows (Oan their election of a tangerine gabshite walloper).

America, aw whit ye dain?! How could ye choose a clueless wain Ti lead yir country? Who wid trust A man sae vile?! A racist, sexist eedjit Wi a shite hairstyle? Yet lo, ye votit (michty me!) Ti hawn’ this … Continue reading

An Ode Tae Tinder

Hiy you. Aye, you! Are you alone? Do you sit waitin’ by the phone? Huv aw yir dreams eh birds an’ bees Burnt tae a cinder? Well whit yi dain, ya styoopit boay, Yi heard eh Tinder? It’s lik sunshine … Continue reading

Nae Mare Afraid

A pale licht crept intae the sky, When ma wee hert broke, askin’ “Why?” Hud Scotland haundit back its yin An’ only shoat Tae break oot fae the servile chains Aroon’ its throat. Fightin’ back indignant tears, An’ the sting … Continue reading

The Artist

When little is within her frame But flatness, blankness, placid scape, No livid hue surrounds her name, So she, the sculptress, must give shape To hate and drama, crashing wide From slashing brushstrokes, mocking trust Of people; pawns she will … Continue reading

Fae A Feartie (Exasperation et the poet’s cow’rin wiys).

When ah sit doon an’ huv a think – Maist aften efter heavy drink – Ah dwell upoan wan hing that iyways Gees me doot; Am sitch a feartie when it comes Tae speakin’ oot. Noo, ah ken, this shouldnae … Continue reading

The Darkening of Roses

Kneeling in a rustling shade, Her fingers interlace around this clutch Of beauty; white and red, Dripping quiet life in beads which run Down blackened lengths. Their features gasp. She holds their devil hearts Beneath her face to taste a … Continue reading

Monaghan’s Corner

     It was a quiet winter afternoon in Monaghan’s Corner. It had been quiet most of the day in fact, however it was not by any means empty. The only pub this side of Glasgow to offer authentic Irish … Continue reading

The Siren

Once again she is barefoot On the sand. She hears them roar; sees them thrash Like men who believe their own truths And ride on white horses. They crash in cannon; swathes of strength That swept her to a greying … Continue reading

Dinnae Run Oor Wee Toon Doon (Appreciation of Bonnie Kilmarnock).

Ah’ve aftin bin disgruntilt by The wiy Kilmarnock meets the eye, An’ shown like it’s a richt auld reekin’ mankey dive, Wae shite flung et yer windaes when Ye go a drive. When cameras fae the BBC Thought Killie toon … Continue reading

The Heart and the Mirror

The woman returns to herself; Sitting to disarm with stroke and sweep. Her likeness is ghoulish in a glassy pool. Stained lips part in the half light: “This is all I am”. Terrible portal. She pours herself inside But her … Continue reading