May 022013
 

By Bob Smith.

We’ve aa hid a  leukie
At plans fer the “Civic Square”
Tae replace St Nicholas Hoose
Eence it’s aa laid bare
.
Bliddy stracht edged biggins
O the usual gless an steel
Nae flair fae the architects
The concocshuns o some feel
.
Iss is the wye tae go
We hear the planners bleat
Great innovative designs
As modernity we maun meet
.
Fit a load o bliddy crap
We hiv the chunce tae hae
A great open green space
Faar fowk can sit or play
Dinna bigg on the foons
O the concrete St Nic’s Hoose
Mak it intae a fine square
Lit yer imaginations loose
.
Open up the bonnie view
O the hoose o Provost Skene
Wi greenery jist aa aroon
Plunty space tae meet a freen
.
A place tae sit an see
The grandeur o Marischal College
An myn back tae it’s days
As a placie full o knowledge
.
Aiberdonians are fair fed up
O biggins nae bricht an jolly
Especially eens fit micht be ca’ed
The future St Nicholas Hoose folly

Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013

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Apr 292013
 

With thanks to Clare Rochford.

A new collection by city based poet Gerard Rochford was launched on Thursday 25th April.

Aberdeen Voice is delighted to have been granted permission to publish 3 extracts from Morning Crossword, which features images by local artist Esther Green.

Having got her hands on a copy ahead of the launch, 14 year old Jayde Naylor commented:

‘’These poems create strong emotions which draw you in. The images are mysterious and really cool.’’

.

Helga’s Hat

I knew it was you, seen even from behind,
entering the gallery. I was going to sketches
of nineteen-forties fashion,
you, in your hippy-indian-sixties bonnet,
to the Diane Arbus photographs upstairs.

This synchrony means nothing.
The forties, sixties, the now of you and me,
our guarded secrets. Only you would know
the meaning of the hat. Arbus could have snapped us,
called it: ‘Old Man , Old Hat.’

Yet there we were chatting about your friend,
my daughter, how we want her to study art,
thinking of the future, surrounded by the dust
artists have left to decorate our minds.
I said: Arbus killed herself.

Then I regretted exposing the negative
in this hall of echoes, where the fountain
gathers coins, and Epstein’s
‘Girl with Gardenias’ could be Eve,
inviting us to savour nakedness.
Helga climbed the staircase and I left.

.

Tod Death

My mother, after the fashion of her day,
wore a dead fox to decorate her neck.
Sometimes, when she was out, I tried it on.

It fastened with a button made from bone
and a loop of leather like a hangman’s noose,
those glass eyes pleading:

not quarried by the bloodied riders of winter,
but shot for its pelt to glamourize a coat.

Mother, who would cry at the death of a bird,
sported a fox around her elegant neck.

.

Climbing the Malverns

Reaching the top we would lean upon the wind,
my brother and I trusting its fathering power,
our coats spread out like wings.

And those invisible hands held us,
pushing on our backs and driving us forth,
or facing the past, the drowned-out voices
growing faint as osprey riding the thermals.

In the east we saw the sun
reflected from our father’s house,
to the west, the Black Mountains of Wales,
an unknown land.

The summit café was owned and served by a person
neither man nor woman – confusing for a child.
We took our pennies there for tea, stole glances.
I wonder what happened to them –
the man-woman and the boys we were.

Morning Crossword is published by Malfranteaux Concepts in association with Koo Press.
ISBN 978 1 8709 82 8.
Price: £10.

http://www.malfranteaux.co.uk/

Apr 262013
 

By Bob Smith.

A celebration o Earth Day
Wis jist held iss wikk
Tae try an save oor planet
Fit is a wee bit sick
.
Pollution an lan destruction
Is jist twa things we fear
Noo sum fowk are interested
Ithers think it aa sma beer
.
We’ve aa bin telt tae think
Progress ’tis man’s desire
Bit fit if progress isna gweed
An thingies git richt dire
.
The earth is far we aa live
The sustainer o aa life forms
Bit mair an mair we hear o
Massive floods an affa storms
.
Since the industrial revolution
Things hiv geen doonhill
The stairt o a great migration
Fae the country tae woollen mill
.
Toons sprung up aa ower the place
Industrialisation it wis the king
Spewin oot fae big lums
Pollution it wid bring
“Progress wis eence aaricht
It’s jist geen on ower lang”
Ogden Nash wrote the wirds
The mannie wisna wrang
.
Foo tae help oor planet
Fowk are aye askin iss
The answer is fair simple
The solution hard tae miss
.
First stop aa the pollution
Fae cars, planes an trucks
Nae usin up Earth’s resources
So’s fowk can mak faist bucks
.
Nae shite on the pavements
Nae litter near the roads
Nae buggerin up the habitats
O wild flooers an the toads
.
Pit a stop tae intensive fairmin
Usin neo-nicotinoids an pesticides
So the bees an ither insects
Still flee aboot oor countrysides
.
So tae celebrate beyond Earth Day
The human race his far tae ging
Tae save the flora an animals
An ither thingies fit nature brings

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”2013
Images by Richard Duthie

Apr 182013
 

By Bob Smith.

I weel remember sunny days
Doon at aiberdeen beach
Fowk they were aa ower the place
As far as yer een cwid reach
.
There wis faithers in their bunnets
Wi’ troosers rolled up ti their knees
Mithers oot in their sunday best
Grunnies wrappit up agin the breeze
.
I myn the punch an judy shows
The sally army choir and band
Young fowk waakin airm in airm
As tho’ they war on the strand
.
Bairns lickin their ice cream
Or drinkin some lemonade
Bocht fae the inversnecky cafe
Or the washington on the esplanade
.
The inversnecky or the washington
War nae the only twa
faar you cwid buy ither things
Like candy floss or a rubber ba
.
If ye cwid fin a space
Ti sit doon on a rug
Oot wid come a picnic
Fae yer mither’s leather bug
.
Kites war flown up in the sky
Some wi bonnie paper tails
Sometimes een wid be let go
Fit brocht on affa wails
Then doon in past the carnival
Ti hae a shottie at hoop-la
Or maybe rollin the pennies
Wid win ye back een or twa
.
The dodgem cars i likit fine
The waltzers made ma queasy
At the various shootin galleries
My faither found winnin easy
.
I enjoyed the helter skelter
Faar ye slid doon on yer doup
Sometimes ye went aat faist
Yer hairt it gied a loup
.
There  wis boxin booths as weel
Faar young chiels hid a few goes
At  tacklin maybe a roon or twa
Wi lads fa were aul pros
.
Usually they nivver lasted lang
Bloody noses wis aa they got
But if they went the distance
A poond or so it wis their lot
.
At the end o a perfect day
Efter rinnin aboot on the sand
A  pokie o chips wis jist fine
Wi a mealie puddin in yer hand
.
.
.
©Bob Smith 9/3/2009
Image Credit: Pete Thomson
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Apr 122013
 

By Bob Smith.

A national survey o fitba fans
SFA authorities hiv cairry’t oot
Tae see fit fans are thinkin
Fit things fans wid gie the boot
.
Bigger leagues fans div wint
Iss een is tap o their list
Yet the money men in fitba
Say iss idea his nae grist
.
Ae bodie tae rin Scottish fitba
Iss thocht it fair his merit
Lit’s aa hope the heid yins
Aboot iss idea they aa git it
.
Kick aff times they gyang back
Tae 3pm on a Setterday
Nae spread ower the wikk
Jist so’s TV can hae their say
.
The season tae bide the wye it is
Fae August throwe tae May
In Simmer time fowk dee ither things
Than watch their favourites play
.
The cost tae watch a gemme
Shud noo cum doon in price
Iss een the powers aat be
Maun listen tae fans’ advice
.
Fowk dinna wint 12-12-18 leagues
Wi aa its different splits
A plan drawn up bi eejits
Wi a help fae ither gits
Fans they are the lifeblood
O the gemme it’s fer sure
Yet TV companies they dictate
Tae satisfy the fireside viewer
.
A’m auld aneuch tae myn
Fitba afore the ‘ear o ’75
Fin fans hid a bigger league
Gemme’s feenish’t at quarter tae five
.
Fit’s the eese o haen a survey
If fowk’s wishes they dinna heed
A’m feart it’s aa doon tae money
An nae fit puir fans need
.
Bit a wee warnin tae the SFA
An tae chairmen in SPL and SFL
Ignore fans wishes at yer peril
An be telt tae gyang tae hell
.
The fans hiv clearly shown
They think fitba’s in a state
If thingies dinna chynge a’m feart
They’ll nae langer cum throwe the gate
.
A fitba match withoot ony fans
Wid be like Wallace withoot Gromit
An verra seen the gemme wid dee
An T.V. companies wid then hop it
.
So fowks in chairge o oor game
Afore Scottish fitba it git’s lost
Bring in a bigger league noo
An reduce the bliddy cost

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013

Apr 052013
 

By Bob Smith.

A problem in rural Scotia
The scourge o modern day
Fan fowk faa hiv the money
Buy second hooses faar tae stay
.
Noo some young eens in the kwintraside
Leave skweel an wint tae bide
An gyaang tae wark near tae hame
Be it Skite or Deveronside
.
Bonnie hooses in rural villages
Snappit up bi fowk fae toons
Tae spend a wikk eyn or holidays
Oot-buyin local quines an loons
.
Holiday hames they are ca’ed
Faar ainers dinna bide at aa
Bit rint them oot tae tourists
Is iss nae bliddy eese ava
The young eens are the future
O the wee villages an toons
They’re haein tae leave the area
Cos o “second hame” bliddy goons
.
A hoose can be left empty
Fer wikks upon a time
Only bidden in noo an agin
Jist unused steen an lime
.
Holiday hames help oot tourism
Some fowk they div decree
Bit withoot a local population
The villages wull seen dee
.
.
.
.
© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013
Mar 282013
 

By Bob Smith.

Trumpie a see, wints tae hae a marquee
Plunkit richt in the middle o Menie
Haudin waddins an sic, fer ony rich prick
Fit am sure wull cost a fair penny

A marquee’s jist a name, fer a big tint on a frame
Far monied fowk can spik tae their pallies
Wull Trump be mine host, as pigs they div roast
An doon champers in a couple o swallies

Fae tap o marquee, flags ye micht see
Blawin stracht oot in the win
As sum drunken plunkers, faa intae the bunkers
Iss thocht it fair maks me grin

Nae doot Trump wull say, in his loodest bray
It’s the “Greatest Marquee in the Warld”
Fer the openin evint, invites wull be sint
As the Trump flags are infurled

Nae invite ye’ll see, tae the likes o me
Onywye a wid hae tae refuse
Local press wull be keen, tae mak sure they’re seen
So’s they hae the odd gin as they newse

As fowk dee a jig, fin samplin the pig
An lood music ower the dunes it is blarin
Wull oor boys in blue, stop the hullaballoo
Or micht they Trump badges be wearin

Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013

Mar 212013
 

By Bob Smith.

Lord McCluskey his recommendit
We shud regulate Scottish press
Iss his caused a richt ballyhoo
Fae Stranraer up tae Stromness

The press maun hae freedom
Tae tell us aa fit’s fit
Bit ower mony o oor tabloids
Jist print a load o shit

The SNP is noo thinkin
O publishin it’s ain paper
Mony fowk are nae in favour
O iss  propaganda caper

The opeenion column o the P&J
His been caain fer democracy
Thoosans o fowk wull be laachin
Aboot their bliddy hypocrisy

Aa iss fae oor local paper
Faa’s bias tae Trump’s weel kent
Yet views fae Tripping up Trump
They widna pit intae print

“Traitors” bawled the “Evenin Express”
At the cooncillors faa voted no
Fin Trump’s application wis thrown oot
“EE” condemnation wisna slow

A paper’s voice maan be heard
As lang’s they play bi the rules
An nae be thocht o nation wide
As “The Laird o Menie’s Fules”

Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013

Mar 142013
 

By Bob Smith.

Jist hae a leuk, at the bliddy great plook
On the face o Aiberdeen toon
St Nicholas Hoose, nae langer in use
Thunk hivvens it’ll seen be knocked doon
.
It’s nae the only een, fit’s tae be seen
Aroon oor gweed city o granite
Union Square a confess, is jist concrete an gless
Mair suited tae an alien planet
.
We hiv shoppin malls, fer young guys an gals
Their shops ye can fin ony place
We hid the Co-opie arcade, wi units ready made
It disappeared withoot ony trace
.
Tak the New Market, wi wa’s fit are barkit
A biggin fit’s lost it’s soul
Knock the place doon, richt tae the foon
It’s nae langer fit fer it’s role
Iss toon o oors, destroyed bi sum boors
Faa’s ideas hiv stepped oot o line
Silver City by the sea, twixt Don an the Dee
His fair lost some o it’s shine
.
Architects wi nae vision, attractin derision
Shud be pit in Castlegate stocks
It shud be their plight, tae be peltit wi shite
Syne throw awa the keys o the locks
.
Planners tae hiv gin mad, iss is affa sad
It’s time tae tak them tae task
Tak back oor cities, fae thae Walter Mittys
Iss surely is nae much tae ask.
.
Reclaimin the toon, iss wid be a boon
Nae langer run bi Acsef an freens
Ordinary fowk hiv mair say, tae ensure fair play
Fin it cums tae spendin “the beans”

Bob Smith”The Poetry Mannie” 2013

 

Mar 072013
 

By Bob Smith.


Div ye lang fer peace an quiet
In iss modern warld o oors
Fin noise is aa aroon us
The silence it fair soors
.
Ye gyang intae a shoppie
Winrin jist fit tae buy
Yer lugs are seen bombardit
Bi Rihanna or yon McFly
.
Ye meet a freen fer a chat
In some funcy coffee hoose
Ye fin yersel suroondit
Bi mobile users on the loose
.
Waak doon the main street
In ony o oor gweed toons
Music blarin oot the windaes
O cars driven bi bliddy goons
Pubs turn up the music din
So fowk canna hae a newse
The purpose is a think
Tae mak fowk buy mair booze
.
Peace an quiet ye can fin
If in the hills ye waak
Ye marvel at the silence
An nae hae yakkity yak
.
A wis brocht up on a fairm
Twa mile fae the main road
Peace and quiet wis aa aroon
As aboot the parks a strode
.
So maybe a wis lucky
Tae ken fit quairtness wis
Unlike fowk in toon cinters
Faa can only fume an fizz

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013

Image – River in the Evening.
©Angela Davis | Dreamstime Stock Photos