A selection of poems


by Albamac

Ah’ve aye admired the busy ant
That aw day long toils, birls an’ bustles
Fur maist o’ us will puff an’ pant
Tho’ blessed wi’ brains an’ bigger muscles.
We strive fur cars an’ better hooses
But whit’s the spur? – no’ formic juices!
Well, here’s a daft, wee thote tae mull, sir.
Wid formic acid cause an ulcer?
An’, if it did, d’ye think the ant
Wid jist sit doon an say, “I can’t!”


The Auld Man’s Dug
by Albamac

Whit the hell d’ye think yer daein?
Ah cannae get peace fur yer barkin’ an’ bayin’!
Will ye haud yer wheesht an’ stoap aw that?
Whit’s wrang wi’ ye?
D’ye smell a cat?
Ah don’t know! Yer a stupit dug!
Away ower there an’ lie oan yer rug!
Sleep aw day, prowl aw night,
Scratch the door when ye want a shite!
Lookit ma troosers, covered in hair!
Ah jist don’t think ah c’n take any mer!
ookit ye yer a dam’t disgrace!
An’ take that expression aff yer face!
Ah’d gie ye away, but naeb’dy wid huv ye.
Ach, c’moan ower here, ye know ah love ye!


No Name
By Neil Campbell Taylor

one of england’s dogs
is snappin’ at my heels
sent here by its fell master
with a flea behind its ears.
when, the flea, it scratches,
the dog, it snarls and bites
as if by all its shouting
it could put the world to rights.
the bully knows this tactic,
the tyrant plays this game,
the demagogue and charlatan
are harlots to this shame;
they each would have you listen
and then to hold your tongue –
if words were deeds and actions
well! they’ve nothing left undone.
they lead us on like children
and tell us to behave;
we’re the author of a’ our problems
and must mend our wicked ways,
yet still the dog is snarlin’
and we are held at bay;
our men must move to action
or fall and fade away.
well, go on and dinna’ listen;
your sleepy eyes look glazed.
the collar fits you snuggly
as the muzzle forms your face.
there’s a shovel in the corner
for a grave that has No Name
but must we dig it quietly
to be buried in the same?


When Maggie ruled th’land
By Will Clem

In ma youth, ah hae tae tell, anger filled th’land
at unfair tax an misery, frae th’hated firebrand
as th’people’s wishes, held sae dear, were trampled in th’sand
thon’s th’way it wis, ye ken, when Maggie ruled th’land
when Maggie ruled th’land, O, when Maggie ruled th’land
nocht but pain an poverty, when Maggie ruled th’land
O, sh’dished oot tae the rich, as frae th’puir sh’d roab,
tak’d awa yir dignity, when sh’tak’d awa yir joab,
fae tho yir waens wir bawlin, an ye culdna spare a boab
in th’name ae progress, sh’wuldna heed thur soab
wuldna heed thur soab, O, sh’wuldna heed thur soab
tak awa thur milk, ye ken, but sh’wuldna heed thur soab
So we voted an we voted, we voted tae th’left
we voted an we voted, hae we voted fae th’red
but oor dreams ae sweet democracie, frae oor breasts wis cleft
when th’fuils doon tae th’sooth ae us, ne’er heard a word we said
ne’er heard a word we said, na, ne’er heard a word we said
tho we shouted doon th’gale, they ne’er heard a word we said
when at last th’wench haed gang awa, left’s wi a man o grey
He mubl’d an he stuttr’d, ne’er kenned jus whit tae say
th’harpie cackl’d loudly then, t’d worked oot as sh’d planned
sh’stuid ahin him aa the while, haudin his soft white haun

haudin his soft white haun, O, haudin his soft white haun
sh’pu’d the strings, he danced her tune, wi her haudin his soft white haun

blue wis fallin swiftly then, red wis oan th’rise
thocht they’d sweep th’country, o the wans we aa despise
fair fuil’d us wi thur smiling, an the twinkling in his eyes
hae wur we tae ken, then, twis aa jis a pack o’lies

twis aa a pack o’lies, aye, aa a pack o’lies
we want’d truith an justis, they gied us a pack o’lies
still we waited an we waited, we waited fae th’day
when aa they dreams an promises, wuld stairt tae come oor way
but fae aa thur mushie mumblins an th’redness o thur tie
soon enaf we seen thur kechs were bluer than th’skie
bluer than th’skie, O, wur bluer than th’skie
fr’aa yir fancy talkin boy, yir erse is bluer than th’skie

we suffr’d wi th’liar, an th’turncoat aneath
illegal war, liberty lost, in waes beyond belief
th’wans we pinn’d oor hopes tae, fae oppression’s relief
ignor’d oor caas jis th’same, rain’d doon economic grief

economic grief, aye, economic grief
they lined thur silken pockets, left’s wi economic grief

aye they gien us oor wee parliamidge, oor pricey talkin shap
but twis oor dreams ae freedom, they wur oot tae stap
ne’er a thocht fae th’people, jis protect th’union brand
an noo t’s aa gin back th’way it wis, when Maggie ruled th’land
when Maggie ruled th’land, aye, when Maggie ruled th’land
ah mind fine the wae it wis, when Maggie ruled th’land
Apen up yir een noo, read whit’s writ upon th’waa
blue is risin fast agin, th’red’s taen a michtie faa
thurs slashin, burnin aa around, but will ye heed yir nation’s caa?
will ye face the githran starm noo, ston th’gither paw in paw?

ston th’gither paw in paw, bairns, ston th’gither paw in paw
we’ll anely mak a diffrence,if’n we ston th’gither paw in paw

Sae when ye takit ap yir ballot slip, an step intae th’buith
grasp thon pen firmly noo an dare tae spak th’truith
tho they wuldnae listen then, boy, culdna hear us in th’sooth
we’ll mak a racket noo, ken, louder e’en than in ma yooth
looder than in ma yooth, aye, looder than in ma yooth
they’ll hae tae listen noo, boy, when we shak westminister’s roof

cos we’ll nae gie back tae th’way it wis                                   
                                                an Scotland shall be free


Birds Cannae Fly where Pigs Fill the Sky (May, 2003)
By Albamac

Ah belanged tae Glesga,
Dear auld Glesga toon,
‘Fore the men it the tap,
wi’ their heids full o’ crap,
tore aw the hooses doon.

They oaf’rt us dreams,
When they pit us in ‘schemes’
An’ telt us that we’d be free
O’ the dirt an’ disease,
the rats, lice an’ fleas
that wur killin’ the likes o’ me.

Aye, they freed us awright
Fae oor common plight
An’ the ties that held us thegither
Fur they scattered us wide,
Weakint oor pride
An’ left us tae watch oor toon wither.

Noo it’s junkies an’ drunks,
An’ ignorant punks
An’ we huv tae pass laws tae curb bigots.
Gie’s a blaw it yer skunk
An’ a pavement tae bunk
An’ chib men ur poorin’ oot spigots.

They gave us Youth Ops
An’ the Enterprise Shops
Tae paint us a future that’s sunny
But, time efter time,
The managin’ slime
Were busily stealin’ oor money.

Their latest illusion
is social inclusion
While honest folk hunger an’ sicken
An’ the mighty an’ high
Take their slice o’ the pie
Fill’t wi’ fresh fruit that’s ripe fur the pickin’.

Noo, the pride o’ oor youth
Is nothin’ but mooth
They’re no’ buildin’ locos or liners.
They’re turned oot lik clones
tae answer the phones
or shovel oot burgers in diners.

Politicians take pride
when their heids they should hide
in shame it the waste an’ the plunder.
Pigs that cin fly
Held aloft oan a lie
While their betters ur trodden under.

Aye, Glesga’s jist rerr
Fur the folk who get mer
Than the wans it the fit o’ the ladder.
Hauf a century’s passed
Still the people come last
An’ their tale jist gets sicker an’ sadder.

There’s still poverty here
An’ the experts ur clear
That weans ur gaun hungry among us.
Noo, fifty years oan,
Ur we ‘titelt tae moan
Ower the buckets o’ bull that they slung us?

Noo they still think they’re right
Wi’ their brains made o’ shite,
They’ll sell us the myth in a mall
But whit good ur shoaps
Tae folk wi’ scant hopes
Who’ve already been sent tae the wall.

It’s money they need,
tae buy daily breid,
No’ Gucci or Harrods, aw naw,
But they’ll no’ beat the greed
That deepens their need
An’ leaves them wi’ sweet hee-haw.

Aw these leaders o’ oors
Ur the basest o’ hoors,
Fur yer vote they will promise an’ pander
But when aw’s said an’ done,
When elections ur won,
They’ll sell ye oot fur a backhander.

So, who pide the price?
No’ the fleas or the lice
Or the parasites in the city.
The rats dressed in suits
still gnaw it the roots
O’ a tree that they’ve stripped withoot pity.

There’s a rank, fishy smell
An’ the still silent bell
Cannae ring oot an audible warnin’.
So we jist staun an’ gape
While the chancers gang-rape
the city that we were born in.