I can't believe that other poetry corner has disappeared, it was in this board wasn't it? Onyhoo - lets start again... Tae a Fert Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie lurks in yer belly efter the feastie just as ye sit doon among yer kin there sterts to stir an enormous wind The neeps and tatties and mushy peas stert workin like a gentle breeze but soon the puddin wi the sauncie face will have ye blawin all ower the place Nae matter whit the hell ye dae a'bodys gonnae hae tae pay even if ye try to stifle it's like a bullet oot a rifle Hawd yer bum tight tae the chair tae try and stop the leakin air shify yersel fae cheek tae cheek prae tae God it doesnae reek But aw yer efforts go assunder oot it comes like a clap a thunder ricochets aroon the room michty me a sonic boom Good God almighty it fairly reeks hope I huvnae s**t ma breeks tae the bog I better scurry aw whit the hell, it's no ma worry A'body roon aboot me chokin wan or two are clearly bokin I'll feel better for a while ah cannae help but raise a smile Wis him ! I shout with accusin glower alas too late, he's just keeled ower ye dirty bugger they shout and stare a dinnae feel welcome any mair Where e're ye go let yer wind gan' free sounds like just the job fur me whit a fuss at rabbie's perty ower the sake o' wan wee ferty
Ode to a toilet Oh toilet How white you are How cold you are The cold feels good against my skin When I am hugging you And talking into the big white telephone I wrote that in one of the bogs in what used to be The Liquor Shack along with CaSS luvs Jules - not realising that Jules would find out and put two and two together and realise it was me who wrote it... //slaps forehead
Not sure who wrote this one... TAE A PUDDEN Fair fa your paper wrapped delights As oot the boozer every night We stagger singin' fu' as kites, wi' progress slippy Tae purchase pokes o' puddens white Intae the chippy Its tae the coonter then we sally, bevvied up and feelin' pally And then unto the local tally we slur and stutter Wi' elbies on the coonter wally Three pudden suppers He wheechs the puddens oot the grease, coups in the chips and boiled peas Wi' wonder shinin' in our eens, and spirits singin And nippy sauce oor taste tae please And pickled ingins It's then we all undo the wrappers, a sudden hush upon oor patter The aroma maks oor mooths a' watter and of a sudden it's there A' clad in golden batter A mealie pudden Wi'burnin' haunds and lips a' chappit It's tae the cauld in coats we're happit We wallop in until we're stappit, and shout wi' glee For mine was Daily Record wrappit and I got page three Nae English whelks nor pints o' Bass, Nor Indian curries frae Madras Nor Chinese cookin' I can pass wi' features wooden But if you want to please yer lass Gie her a Pudden
Excellent stuff And welcome to the Forums Angie I travel to Aberdeen a fair bit myself (for my significant sins )
Thanks for the welcome. I have one mad-keen-on-SW friend in Aberdeen, and we do like to meet up with other nutters... *ahem*... fans on occasion. Oh, a quick pome... There was a young farmboy called Luke His dull, boring life he forsook Joined up with the Rebels Blew Death Star to pebbles (Though some said the shot was a fluke). Didn't say it was a very good pome...
