The Goblin in the Green ©

the queerest thing ah've seen wis wan night in Glesga Green
An mind ah worked a decade there an' mair
It wisnae whit ye'd think, an ah wisnae onni drink
An' wis daen my shift wi no' a single care

Ah hud wan eye onni cloak an ma hauns wur in ma poakets
Inattentatively fondlin' ma dross
Ah wis Coontin' if a had sufficient in ma wad
Tae scran a bagga chips and curry sauce

When ah happened fur tae spy oot the corner ay ma eye
An still ah canny fathom why ah glimpsed
Bit ma eyes behel't a sight thit ye don't see every night
it seemed tae be a gaitherin' a pimps

Where we used tae graze the sheep an' noo wimmin hawk thur meat
They partook communion in a tonic wine
with their unofrm of trainees and filthy denim drainies
inni dark inni park an' goin' nine

ower aw ma years a hobblin' ah'v seen ma share ah goblins
an fairies tae, an gairden-pairty dawns
seen dignitaries come, and go back where they're from
bit this mob? they wur work fur idle hauns!

Right werr the Scottish race is run this cheesy clan a' scunners
stood aboot an' barggint fur thir wimmins pride
swearin' fealty fur handers in a drive tae push up standards
they a greed tae pit a fiver on a ride"?

these junkie bastard sages wur complainin' that thur wages
wur bein' blown oan the owerheads a whores
things like peyin' fines, an resupplyin' lines meant,
fae the night, tae get yer hole wid cost a score

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Sammy (an update) ©

Awe Sammy Bin Hidin', noo we're up a gummie
wi' a' yer crack we're stuck in Iraq 'cos Bush spat oot the dummie
it fell fae the pram an' skited SadSam, fur you a fortunate miss,
Up fae the flair came lapdug Blair, his masters arse tae kiss
They garner't aw thur airms up an' held thum oot in spite
bit you hud ran an' auld SadSam wis challenged tae a fight
like "roon in murphy's back at 4" the crowd aw gaithered in
some tae see the doin', some tae mask the sin
hauf the crowd wis terrified, hauf wur celebratin'
it's weel kent Sam's a fuckin' bam, bit it's left your kickin' waitin'
the teachers tried tae break it up, their efforts were in vain
tony said trick 'em, his master said sic 'em, so Iraq was attacked again
hunners a' thousands lyin' died, includin' a thousand gi's
whit wull ye say tae the prophets the day they look ye right in the eyes
how will ye try tae justify the bile yer ayways spurtin'
when the profits this war's aw aboot ur gaun tae haliburton
its drew yer crew, bit never you, tae make the sacrifice
tae gie thur lives an' thur weans and thur wives. If Allah exists, He cries.

Sammy, Sammy, Whururye noo
howurye hidin' fae dubayoo
ye maun feel safe till november 2
when Kerry's Gettin' the World tae You!
Kerry's Gettin' the World tae You!
Kerry's Gettin' the World tae You!

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Ambition ©

whinever ah get the internet ah'm loggin' oan tae chat
Ah've heard thurs hunnersa burds oot there, ah fancy a bit a' that
Ah don't care if she's wee 'n hairy or really big and plump
If she kin get by mah skeely eye, ah'll owerlook her hump

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good enough ©

( my first song - for Irene )

I always said I'd write your song, didn't mean to take so long
never found a single sound that's good enough for you
scribbled words sounded strong but always felt the rhythm was wrong
couldn't find an honest rhyme that's good enough for you

so hard to find a line not strangled by Sidney Devine
or a Royalty-free melody good enough for you
then it dawned on me today it doesn't matter what I say
its clear to see that you love me, and I'm good enough for you

chorus
So any song will do to celebrate a love that's true
And tell the world you're my girl and I'm good enough for you
Any tune is fine if you join in a single line
And tell the world you're my girl that's good enough for me

So here's the song I wrote for you, it might be cliché'd but its true
it tells the world that you're my girl and that's good enough for you
I really hope you like your song, enough to want to sing along
and tell the world that you're my girl and that's good enough for you

chorus
So any song will do if I can sing one line with you
And tell the world you're my girl and I'm good enough for you
Any old song is fine if you and me can harmonise
and tell the sun that we are one and I'm good enough for you

any song will do to celebrate a love that's true
And tell the world you're my girl and I'm good enough for you
Any tune is fine if you join in a single line
And tell the world you're my girl and I'm good enough for you

that's good enough for me...

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Unfinished business ©

miles away in a world of rhyme
where fancy flies, and bugger time
and memory isn't worth the dime
it takes to make the call
furtively, with scarce a warning
peering out before the dawning
harbingers of springtime morning
came to set their stalls

first the crocci set the tone
morning glory chaperoned
Narcissus, standing proud and strong
disdaining dandylion
rowan buds conducted choral
hyacinth and humble sorrel
prim-rose too joined in the quarrel
tulips hung there sighing

bluebell rang the chimes of change
and everywhere across the range
the silent spectrum subtly changed
as insects came a calling
slowly first, in ones and twos
browsed a while, enjoyed the view
then, celebrating life anew,
they harvested the pollen

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Lewis & Corey ©

This is the story of Lewis, and Corey
and Mum, and Dad and God
how Gran and Gramps an' a right buncha tramps
aw gathered up in a squad
that went an' lurched up the brae tae the church
wur a parson wis stood't a fountain
bowt in thur pews, they admir't thur shoes
fingerin' beads, barely countin'
the mass soon done, the crowd one by one
made thur way tae the font as agreed
the priest took the weans and anointed their stains
splashin' water and oil oan thur heids
water tae wash away sins in a flash
an' scentit oil tae remind us
the smell ay lies, in any disguise
wull help the devil tae find us
a con'le wis lit tae signify thit
the light wis come doon among us
it passed right through us, tae Corey, and Lewis
an' we smile't at the bounty it brung us
as God in his glory blest Lewis an' Corey
wipin' thur sins fae the slate
original sin wis pit in the bin
an' the passkeeper passed roon the plate
the matter soon done, tae continue the fun
we repaired tae the reidvale hall
where hunners a' grub, and beer, - by the tub! -
turned the afternoon intae a ball
we grabbed and clung and twirled and swung
and sung as we danced to the muse
to the holy ghost we raised a toast
and another, To Corey, and Lewis!

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The Veil ©

we were no adventure
ere the void
when adam's wine
unchanneled
pixelated
found new orbits

the world diluted
in mono-chrome blur
tormented surges dashing
hopes dreams and sprinkled promises
flashing
gouged aground

exposed tears
bore precious treasures
escaped
leaving all but nothing
reshaped
folding hearts from the very fabric of fate-full circle

tides recede
and we across the dingle
high and dry
sharecrop love's fresh harvest
changed but no less wholesome
no less complete

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Seasons ©

Vacant beds, an empty planter
Leaves on furlough voiced by breeze
That heralds schnell approaching Winter
Lord of all its grip can seize
Whilst bulbs to light the springtime splinter
Kernelled deep beneath the freeze

Soon they'll come, the probing fingers
From the rooftops, tendril like
Creeping on, assimilating
Seeds of moisture onto spikes
Hanging long till quick as silver
Disappearing overnight

Whence the spring will flush the glimmer,
Wash and rinse, then inkle on
Enlivening, albeit trimmer,
Summers unsuspecting pawns
To, burgeoning, their eyes ashimmer
Distil their blessings for the dawn

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jist how stoned ©

Here youse! Aye! Youse! jist how stoned wur yeez
tae let jeremy and julian palm ye oaf
wi that drunken sailor's nightmare
an' a' they tadgers in it
wi' thur heids stuck up their arses
an' the moral-les ay a dinnae ken whit

ye've tae admire the brass a' the papers
girnin' aboot calley
ye'd a thocht they'd be keepin a keek
steida that thur splashin' cash
gie'in' oot awards
makin' polls
nae doot tae build fences wi'

cementin' relations
that'll be handy when the wa's gae up
d'ye 'hink mibbe its near time tae break up the party
state wur independents
gang wur ain wey an' chill fur a while
oanywey h'much worse wid it be
takin' turns daein' it wursells

aw' juries needs is a nice bit a salad fur lunch
an' petrol money or bus fares
mibbe a few quid fur babysitters noo an' again
'n naeb'dy gies a fuck if they huv tae go oot oan a back shift
before or efter they huv tae decide tae decide lives
oanni word ay sworn witnesses
'n 'ey're no even allow't tae be partial
'n'ey kin jile ye

so how dizza mp need hunners an' hunners a 'hings
'n iffits so hard tae get 'i support r'ey need
howcomes thit maistay thur wives ur qualified furri joabs
an'ni' pensions
how's thur no apprenticeships innit
'steeda gei'in' thum oafices
howur we no gei'in' thum joab descriptions
wizza aff 'at day?

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The Dream of Gerr'inty'rum ©

I dreamed of a place
where every person is principal
where nobody's perfect
and all could gather as equals

in confidence and in safety
share values
exchange thoughts
consider new ideas

and then,in conscience
accepting help from wherever it comes
do whatever needs doing
for good

my dream turned 'mareish
I beheld a knocking shop for ex shop stewards
and underworked la'yers,
pronounce that however ye like

they traded in our temple
and made wars
till the people were sore
and laboured with a sigh

then my eyes fell on a cross
manifest lines on parchment
independently marked
the end of the party line in sight

what came next I know not
for I wakened
and can tell you no more
the end is yours to decide

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dedicated to Anthony Charles Lynton Blair,
(for that is surely the name that will be on his charge sheet)

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The Virus ©

A virus wantit tae immigrate so efter a cup of tea
It syne't its cup an' tidied up nen hitched a lift oan a flea
The soon tae be late invertibrate wis livin'oan a dug
that wis sniffin in a midden as the insect caught the bug

Quoth Flea, "I think I'll journey, for I'm instant ill at ease",
In a voice you wouldnae normally associate wi' fleas
Jist like a man, he hud a plan that simply couldnae fail
So he boxed up his appliances tae huv them sent by rail

He loup't in the air and landed square on the back ay a startled rat
Thit wis runnin' away fae a cat thit hud strayed an' that wis the end ay that
The cat caught the rat, bit the dug hud the cat bey the back ay the neck in a trice.
In a frenzied blur a' hair an' fur they kil't each other twice

A' that wis fun' wis scraped aff the grun' bey a concientious scavvy
Who, lucky for us, saved a helluva fuss bey washin' his hands in the lavvy
The virus flushed back tae his Shack by The Lac in this sudden surge of rain
Saying "Globetrotting's rott'ing. I think that I ought'ing't be going to travel again"

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Cheek by Jowell ©
(previously titled -The Party of the Third Part )

W'ur steyin' oot the Euro, an' we wont go in (until
our institutions finish laund'rin' aw thur dollar bills)

Westminster's a Casino's noo! Naw! Ah umnay jokin'
Gamblin' and booze ur fine, but ye'd better no be smokin'!

Oh the Labour'd moans when the Ecclestone didnae peys its round
but, anither spin, who's getting' thum in? They watch the hands, spellbound!

Who geez a damn aboot Saddam or his human rights abuses?
No' oor politicians, they're playin' hoosey-hoosey!

Stetin’ wars tae back-up baur’s and castin’ lots for options
Gorging the dessert buffet for its many strange concoctions

or meeting stars a' stage and screen, in arms with past-dictators
shooting craps and redrawin’ maps tae split the Prophets later

they freely play wi' the CSA, an' the right tae trial by jury
Thu'v sat there pat fur years an' Noo, Oor Peers, wid vent thur fury

the world's alight but they spend thur nights in ministerial boxes
Utter'lie assurin' US , and frettin' furri' foxes

Wan eye oan the texas hold-em, wan eye oan the polls
they sit and coont their winnin's while they're filling up foxholes.

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For Katie with kisses ©

Words? Wasted? Hardly!
Me? Neither. Yet!
Ideas? Described quite badly
storing sawdust somewhere wet.

Dragging dialogic knuckles
in a conversation bent
on furnishing relations
or to ratify intent.

As oft as not we falter
at some misused synonym
or a grave misplac'ed accent
when we're quoting her or hymn

To avoid such complication
I'll simply state my thought.
Beware our destination
is no more less what we've got.

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Taxi fur Arafat! ©

wan fur the road wee man
whit's yer poison
cheers, then
ah wunner who'll
git pelters noo
's shite gittin' blame't
fur haudin' up the map
wrang
wi' every fucker's tryin'
tae read it ower yer shooder
near rippin' it an' the caur aye shooglin'
cos that mad evangelist's at the wheel

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The New Contract ©

Hark back to the seventies if you will, when the unions ruled the roost
and snatcher's mental meanyins set tae crush
Endin' demarcation wud gie thur polls a boost
'sides they'd stand tae mak a fortune in the rush

so they gie'd' awa' the cooncil hooses maistly fur a song
an' open't lines a' credit, cash galore
tae buy shares in the companies we'd own't aw alang
usin' debt tae make the workforce stike no more

fur a man that's book't a holiday an' hisn'y goat the dosh
while 'ees polishin' 'ees german 4 X 4
hus a mortgage that wad choke a horse, but at least 'ees wife feel posh
while she's busy varnishin' thur brand new door

husnay been tae the branch fur years, an' neither huv 'ees pals
thur shares lang- sel't, thur joabs huv went abroad
competitively tendered oot tae multi-nationals
an' oan fifteen grand a years a gaffer's god

the managers who couldnae manage fin'lly huv a we'y
tae manage if a workforce tak's the huff
the threat a' losin' minimum wage wi' a' thon bills tae pey
's enough tae let thum ca' a union's bluff

the government writes millions aff tae underwrite the gains
a' dodgy deals and secret pfi's
and frenchmen and americans own schools and roads and drains
and old folk's homes, oor watter, and the skies

they claim thit demarcation's done, the country's in the pink
the hospitals ur clean, an' nae joabs blacked
naeb'dy says its no mah joab, an' naeb'dy needs tae think
cos ther'es fuck a' done that's no in the new contract

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