SUSAN MORRISONColeridge provided inspiration for the comedian, presenter and compere at The Stand club
WITH PROFOUND APOLOGIES TO THE ANCIENT MARINER
It was an ancient jakey
Who rose up in front of me.
'With that des
perate air and matted hair
You're not invited to this wedding I see.'
'Stand aside, O stinky stranger
Your breath could strip off paint
The cake's been cut; the vows been said
The bride's not pregnant – how quaint.'
He grasped my arm in fury.
'My tale is short, my need immense,'
He gasped into my face.
My makeup melted quickly – so much for Color Intense.
'I had the world at one time, my taffeta'd little pal
But Dame Fortune threw me about!
I cast myself on your pity!
O – You shop at TK Maxx, I see, by that price tag sticking out.'
'That's enough of that,' I huffed
My secret blown, the money I save!
My frock cut-price, you know
I reached inside my reticule – Is it money for buckie you crave?
'Buckie?' Shrieked the living dead
'Is that what you think of me?
I want your vote. I need your vote
My rosette is red for Labour – and everyone's voting SNP!'
BOB SERVANT (courtesy of Neil Forsyth)Fictional former window cleaner and scourge of internet spammers Bob Servant – whose antics have been published thanks to journalist and author Neil Forsyth – has delivered his own unique take on The Charge of The Light Brigade
Half a league half a league
Half an SPL onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
They don't like it up them' he said:
'Into the valley of oh Christ there's loads of them how do you turn a horse round?
Frank you numptie I told you we should have gone to Magaluf,'
Rode the six hundred
www.bobservant.comMARK THOMSONThe Dundee-based poet, author of Bard Fae Thi Buildin Site took his inspiration from Jenny Joseph's Warning("When I am an old woman I shall wear purple…")
WARNING: WHEN I AM AN AULD MAN I SHALL WEAR MY KILT BACK TO FRONT
When I am an auld man I will wear my kilt back to front,
And tell ah the tourists that this is how a true Scotsman wears it
And I shall spend my giro on the horses, nips
and fags and say we've no money for the factor.
I shall sit in a midden o a hoose, and go shoplifting on Sundays
And call the fire-ies oot and then clype on my neebour and say it was them
And mak up fir ah the stuff I didnae dae.
I shall go oot in meh tackety baets when the sun is splittin the pavement
And pick my nose in public
And learn to flick it.
You kin wear mingin troosers and grow tatties oot yir ears
And eat a muckle load o deep fried mars bars at a go
Or only a bowl o porridge an watter fir a week
And pose stanes an midgies an matchaeds an ahthin wee in boxes.
But fir now I must hae claes that are bone dry
And pay the factor and no curse in the closie
And set a bra example fir the bairns.
We must meet oor freens doon the clubbie and keep a clean hoose.
But mabey I had better practice a wee but noo?
So I dinnae create a puckle stooshie or stramash
When suddenly I am auld and I start to wear my kilt back to front.
www.markthomsonpoet.co.ukWILD CARD KITTYBurlesque performer and artist Wild Card Kitty had her imagination fired by Edward Lear's The Owl and the Pussycat and Scotland's misty weather
THE HAGGIS AND THE DUG
The Haggis and Wee Dug went to roam in a beautiful Ford Escort,
They took some baccy that might have been wacky,
All stuck in a Harris Tweed Coat.
The Haggis looked up as the Scotch Mist descended and sang to a small Clarsach,
"Oh, Wee Dug, oh Wee Scabby Dug,
What a Scabby Wee Dug you are,
you are,
you are,
What a Scabby Wee Dug you are."
Haggis said to Wee Dug, "You daft, glaikit radge,
What nonsense and shite you sing!
So goan huad yer wheest, ah ken that we're lost
And cannae damn well see a thing!"
They drove through the pea-souper haar, across highlands far,
To Brigadoon while having a pagger.
And there in a Loch a Sea Monster lay lashed,
With a can of Tennents Lager,
lager,
lager,
A can of Tennents Lager.
Said Haggis "You wantin' gas lighters – they're three for a pound…
… or sports socks?" – Said Nessie, "Yer Ma!"
So they stole all his fags and headed back home
To the Market just right at the Barras.
They drank Irn Bru and ate Tunnocks teacakes,
Whilst selling some Tam O'Shanters,
And side by side, walked down by the Clyde,
They leave for the craic but come home for the banter,
the banter,
the banter,
They leave for the craic but come home for the banter.
www.wildcardkitty.comRON BUTLINEdinburgh's Makar turned to Shakespeare for inspiration
SONNET (after W Shakespeare)
Shall I compare you to a Scottish day?
You are more sunny and less midgey-ridden!
Black clouds may glower until you've had your way,
but then let fall the kisses always hidden
in your smile. Don't laugh – it's true! The mist
that keeps the mountains, glens and lochs from sight
can last for weeks – no promised joys exist
in Scottish rain, no after-storm delight!
Your loving warmth and passion shall not fade
as autumn afternoons though scarce begun
turn into winter's chill, for a time has made
your touch more intimate and sure – and fun!
Evening shadows lengthen, leave no mark,
but our love deepens the nearer comes the dark.
ELSPETH MURRAYThe Edinburgh-based performance poet used Robert Frost's well-known poem The Road Not Taken as a base for her verses about the city's "tram-related roadworks with which our lives are currently blessed".
The Bus Not Taken
"Road Closed, Diversion" says the yellow sign;
No "Sorry" from Edinburgh City.
I, one driver, in a long long line,
I shake my head – what strange design
Has gripped the transport subcommittee?
And the bus? They've went and raised the fare,
Though having perhaps the better claim,
Because it is greener and, sitting there,
You can stare out at what people wear
And time-wise, it takes about the same.
But both today are equally jammed
In lanes orange cones have created.
Och, I'd bin the plans for getting trammed!
Aye, transport guys are constantly damned,
But I'm lost and late and frustrated.
I may be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
The roads dug up for our good, and I –
I took the car more travelled by …
But will a tram make that much difference?
www.elspethmurray.com
IRN-BRU'S IF (after Rudyard Kipling)If you can bounce in six inch heels all night
And still walk home in your bare feet
If you can keep two passions burning bright
And see there's still some romance in defeat
If you can hit the foreign beach without a tan
Or brave the howling sleet in just a shirt
If you know you're easily the better man
When side by side with suits in just a skirt
If you can party in the summer rain
With Kamikaze midges in the mud
Or grit your teeth and put up with the pain
Of seeing in the New Year in the scud
If you can wait and wait for 1p change
Then proudly give the lot to charity
And know for certain it's not strange
To call your lunch dinner and your dinner tea
If you can handle folk who call you Jock
Then you'll have really earned your Irn-Bru
You'll thank your mum for keeping you in stock
And what is more you'll feel phenomenal too.