Dec 212012
 

How Sir Ian Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Suz (with apologies)

T’was the night before Christmas in old Aberdeen
Or should I say Whoodville, yes, that’s what I mean
Every Whoodie in Whood-ville
Liked Christmas a lot…
But Sir Ian Grinch
Did not like it one jot!

The town settled down for a long winter’s nap
Except for this one crinkly, creaky old chap
Sir Grinch hated Christmas! It might be because
He didn’t believe in a Sanity Clause

The children were nestled all snug in their beds
But Sir Ian Grinch was pacing instead.
Perhaps Ian’s head wasn’t screwed on quite right.
It could also be he was simply just tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
Was the Whoodies in Whoodville said no to his mall.

Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
When Grinch said the ancient great trees didn’t matter
“Let’s cut them down and let’s build some parking!”
But the Whoodies thought Grinch was really quite barking.
Now this Grinch wanted granite – a web of it really
With shopping and theatres and parking, ideally.
But the Whoodies said ‘No’ to his project ‘It’s crass!’
We want our trees and our wildlife and grass.

It was his way or no way, he’d not give an inch
So the web was abandoned; this angered the Grinch

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave Whoodville a vibrant and dynamic glow.
“If there’s no web for me then I’ll make very sure
“My money will go and help Africa’s poor”
“That will fill all the Whoodies with remorse
(“And I’ll avoid being taxed at the source”).

Ian was grouchy and grinchy, indeed
The size of his heart was no match for his greed
He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whoodies,
And envied their happiness and all their goodies

On Christmas day all of the Whoodies would gather
Down in their Gardens for coffee and blather

Whoodies, young and old, would sit down to a feast.
And they’d feast! And they’d feast!
And they’d FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!
They would start on Whood-pudding, and rare Whood-roast-beast
Which was something Sir Grinch couldn’t stand in the least!
And THEN
They’d do something he liked least of all!

Every Whoodie in Whoodville, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.
They’d stand hand-in-hand. And the Whoods would start singing!
They’d sing! And they’d sing!
AND they’d SING! SING! SING! SING!

The more that Sir Grinch thought of the Whood-Christmas-Sing
The more Ian thought, “I must stop this whole thing!
“Why, for seventy years I’ve put up with it now!
I MUST stop Christmas from coming!
…But HOW?”

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE GRINCH
GOT A WONDERFUL, ACSEF IDEA!

“I know just what to do!” Sir Grinch said with a sneer
“I’ll steal every trace of their Christmas this year.
“I’ll threaten to take my web money once more
“And threaten to give it to Africa’s poor.”

“And while I’m at it I’ll steal all their stuff”
(It seems being a billionaire wasn’t enough)
Sir Grinch owned most Whoodville it’s certainly true
His wealth would have satisfied both me and you
But when the old Grinch couldn’t get his own way
And get his Web built, then he vowed they would pay

He made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat.
And he chuckled, and clucked, “Why you handsome old goat!”
“With this coat and this hat, I’ll look just like Saint Nick!”
“All I need are some reindeer…”
The Grinch looked around.
But since reindeer were scarce, there was none to be found.

(The reason that no deer were found in the town
Is Grinch’s friend Aileen had had them shot down
Her cruelty and greed caused a Whoodville petition
The people agreed there will be no repetition)

Did that stop the old Grinch…?
No! Not one little bit
“I’ll just need to call on a couple old gits
“If I can’t find some reindeer, I’ll make some instead!”
(I think the poor man must be oot of his head)
So he called lackeys Tommy and Colin to come
Which they quickly did, those poor dears were quite dumb.
And he tied great big horns on top of their heads.
(It seems that these lapdogs were easily led).

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
The old Grinch couldn’t wait ta get oot and aboot.
THEN
He loaded some bags
And some old empty sacks
On a ramshackle sleigh
And he hitched up dogs Tommy and Colin, whey hey!

Then the Grinch said, “Giddyap!”
And the sleigh started down
Toward the homes where the Whoodies
Lay asleep in their town.

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.
All the Whoodies were dreaming sweet dreams without care
When he came to the first house near to Union Square.
“This is stop number one,” The old Grinchy was there.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, probably had too much sherry.
And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.
Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tight pinch.
But if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch.
He got stuck only once, for a moment or two.
Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue
Where wee Whoodie stockings all hung in a row.

He stole left, right and centre; he got on his knees
He swiped BrewDogs, Glenfiddich and Zeppelin CDs
And just to increase the Whoodies distress
He left unsold copies of Evening Express.
And he stuffed all their gifts in his sacks and then nimbly,
Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney!

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Whoods’ feast!
He took the Whood-pudding! He took the roast beast!
He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash.
Why, that Grinch even took their last can of Whood-hash!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And stole all the stockings, he was such a jerk!
Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee.
“And NOW!” grinned Sir Ian, “I will stuff up the tree!”
“I’ll have theatre seats carved from it, just wait and see
“Down with the trees, turn their wood into chip
“For my web and its theatre” (he was quite a dip)
Then he heard a small sound “This can’t be good!”
He turned around fast, and he saw a small Whood!

Twas Marie-Lou Whood, who was not more than two.
The Grinch had been caught by this little Whood daughter
Who’d got out of bed for a cup of cold water.
She stared at Sir Ian and said, “Santy, why,
“Why are you taking our Christmas tree? WHY?”

But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick
He thought up a Whood lie, and he thought it up quick!
In that he had practice, his cunning renown
A cunning which had torn Whood businesses down

“Why, my sweet little tot,” the fake Santy Claus lied,
“There’s a light on this tree that won’t light on one side.
“So I’m taking it home to my workshop, my dear.
“I’ll fix it up there. Then I’ll bring it back here.”

So he fobbed off the child with yet more of his lies
The master of false promises, spin, alibis
And he got her a drink and he sent her to bed.
And when Marie-Lou Whood went to bed with her cup,
He went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up!
Then the last thing he took was the fireplace wood.
His hatred of trees and his greed were no good.

He did the same thing
To the other Whoods’ houses
Leaving crumbs
Much too small
For the other Whoods’ mouses!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the hair of his head was as white as the snow.
When he packed up his sled he was most ecstatic,
(By this time the Grinch was extremely erratic)
He had all of their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!

“I’ll just head to the Gramps and on old Tullos Hill
“I’ll fly-tip these presents” (so much for good will)

“Pooh-pooh to the Whoodies!” the old Grinch was singing
“This year they’ll be no Christmas bells ringing.
“They’re finding out now that Christmas was snatched
“Oh what a brilliant idea I have hatched.
“They’re just waking up! I know just what they’ll do!
“Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
“The all the Whoods down in Whood-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!”
“They’ll say ‘Give us a web for we now need it more
“Then food, clothes and shelter would help Africa’s poor’.
“Give us more malls, and give us more shopping!
“They’ll beg for my web – oh those Whoods will be hopping!”

“That’s a noise,” grinned the Grinch,
“That I simply must hear!”
So Sir Ian Grinch put his hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow…
But the sound wasn’t sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn’t be so!
But it WAS merry! VERY!

He stared down at Whood-ville!
Ian could not believe
Despite all of his efforts to plunder and thieve
What met his eyes was a shocking surprise
Each Whoodie in Whood-ville, the rich and the poor
Was singing! He shook to the core.
He HADN’T stopped Christmas from coming!
IT CAME!

Somehow or other, Christmas survived!
In fact you could even say Christmas had thrived.
He stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so?”

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
“It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
It was as if shopping was not the reason
For people to celebrate during this season.
Even without lots of designer gear
Somehow Christmas had still made it here.

And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!
“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
“Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!”
And what happened then…?
Well…in Whood-ville some of them say
That the Grinch’s small heart
Grew three sizes that day!

And the minute his heart didn’t feel quite so tight,
He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light
He said “Look what I just found when passing through Torry
“Nicked presents, which fell off the back of a lorry”
And he brought back the toys! And the food for the feast!
And he…
…HE HIMSELF…!
Ian Grinch carved the roast beast!
Merry Christmas to All, and to All a good night!

Well if you are reading this dear Mr Wood
You still have a chance to make everything good
Why not help the poor both here and abroad?
Doing so would be the greatest reward.

We need our green space, clean water and air
Even the finest web could not compare.
We’ve things in this town nowhere else to be found
So lay off our gardens, our common good ground.

If you want gratitude you’d get it indeed
By helping the helpless, the people in need.
So many things you could do with your money
The difference you’d make – it’s not even funny.

Next time please ask us, don’t dictate your plan
People are asking what kind of a man
Would cause such division, pitting friend against friend
Ian your web plans have come to an end.

Give up the ghost, take up some other cause
That’s all I’m saying – goodnight –

– Santa Claus

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Dec 202012
 

By Bob Smith.

It’s bin alleged a cooncillor wifie
At a meeting hid a wee doze
Fin voting on a nicht club licence
The cooncil war in the throes

Did the craitur hae forty winks?
Did she hear the pros an cons?
Fit wye wis she alood tae vote, 
Fin they hid a show o hauns?

She claims she’d teen medication
Iss made her a wee bit fuzzy
A’m sure there’s ither cooncillors
Faa’s brains are afen muzzy

They tak decisions aboot oor toon
Iss maks ye fair hae a think
Foo mony micht feel drowsy
Cos they’ve hid a denner time drink?

Nithing wrang wi haen an aperitif
As lang’s ye dinna bicum a bam
Jist mak sure fin ye hae a tipple
Glenfiddich is yer faavrit dram

“Glenfiddich!!” A hear The Donald roar
“A plague on aa sic drinkers
Fusky fae Wm Grant’s distilleries
Is only fit fer bliddy minkers”

A’m nae suggestin the puir wumman
Wis jist a bittie warse fer weer
The story aboot her maybe dozin
Hisna made things affa clear

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

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Dec 142012
 

By Bob Smith.

Amazon, Google an Starbucks
Hiv avoided pyein some tax
Throwe a loophole in the law
Fit’s bin mair than a bittie lax

Multinationals they div employ
Accoontants tae fin sic wyes
Thae chiels are up tae scratch
An in tax laws are richt wise

You an me we pye oor dues
We micht hae a girn an sweir
An fit the tax mannie tells us
Is nae aye sae bliddy clear

It seems its nae agin the law
Fer firms tae use sic ploys
Bit morally it’s jist nae richt
If the law faavour’s “ big boys”

Time fowk pit a stop tae iss
Mak the slippery buggers think
Jist boycott the likes o Starbucks
Fin ye buy yer next coffee drink

Pye yer dues shud be the cry
Yer bunk balance micht tak a hit
Fit wye shud the rest o us suffer
Cos ye employ a tax swerving git

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

Dec 102012
 

With thanks to Peter Thomson

The River Don is celebrated in a new book from the Woodside Writers Group. With support from the SURF (Sustainable Urban Fringes) Aberdeen project, The Don: from Source to Sea is now available.
An anthology of poems and prose in English and Doric, Aberdeen Voice brings you the first in a short series of extracts.

Gates Shut

Gates shut, canna go in
Nae job
It floated doon i Donny
Sic a shock
Employed the day, nae the morn
Fit wye?
Dinna ken mate, letter on the way, explain it aa
Union ill sort it oot
Nae made redundant, jist unemployed.
Sorry chaps, mill’s gid bust
Bit niver mind, the best o luck.
Beater hoose empty
nae manly chat, joke or jibes
cups o coffee or fags or moanin aboot the wife
spenin a yer sillar.
Idle musty levers, dusty buttons
Empty hollow reels, nae birling or
whirling wi reams o paper.
Pied ma dues, now beggin bowl in haun,
state benefits
Apply for jobs ye say?
Hid een the ither day, nae the attitude sorry mate
nae yer fault
bit sad an doon in i dumps
Thirty five years makin paper
seems unfair, nae just
niver mind, I’ll get on wi life…
as fit I must.

May Ritchie

The Don: from Source to Sea is available from WH Smith and Books ‘n’ Beans for £5.00, and also from Mark Lovie at the Woodside Fountain Centre: tel: 01224 524926, email: mark@fersands.org

Twenty per cent of any profits from the book will go towards a Don educational project; the rest will help to fund future Woodside Writers Group projects.

The idea of a book came up when the Woodside Writers Group realised the river appeared in much of their writing, and further material was gathered from as far afield as Alford.

The Don corridor has a great history and the SURF Aberdeen project aims to bring communities, organisations and ideas together to initiate a renewed focus and collaborative management to this area at a time of significant change.

 

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Dec 062012
 

By Bob Smith.

Michael Forbes his bin voted
Glenfiddich’s “Tap Scot” o the year
Iss’ll hae Trumpie fair bilin
Gyaan reid in the face a fear
.
Michael wis geen iss award
Fer his steely determination
The puir chiel wis left speechless
Fin he received a standin ovation
.
Imaagine fit Trump’ll be thinking
As oor Michael he won iss award
Donald says he bides in a slum
An thinks him an affa cyaard
.
Noo Michael refused tae buckle
He unfurled the democracy flag
Stuck twa fingers up tae The Donald
As Trumpie cairry’t on wi his brag
.
Donald am sure wull pint oot
He’s bin created a GlobalScot
By some fowk in big business
Fa spoutit some mair tommyrot
Fit his Trump ivver deen fer Scotia
His he biggit his course bi default ?
Is money teen in fae the gowfers
In an American bank’s secure vault?
.
The award leaves Trump in a pickle
He canna say the hail thing’s a farce
Glenfiddich Distillery’s weel respected
An micht hae a kick at Trump’s arse
.
Raise a gless tae Michael Forbes
Fa stood an held the stage
Agin an American billionaire
Fa’s noo duncin aroon wi rage
.
Let’s jist hae anither award
Like Top Director o the year
Iss maan ging tae Anthony Baxter
Fa didna show Trump ony fear..
.
.

.
.
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Dec 032012
 

By Bob Smith.

A  kid’s comic ca’ed  The Dandy
Wis born  in nineteen thirty siven
A weel myn  first readin it
An thocht awis in hivven

Fer ‘ears front page nivver chynged
‘Twis aye yon Korky the Cat
Fa acted like a human bein
An laached as weel as grat

Desperate Dan wisma favourite
A big cowboy fae Cactusville
Lookit efter bi his Aunt Uggie
He scoffed cow pies wi great will

The adventures o Black Bob
Wis a story in prose back then
Iss collie helpit oot his maister
A shepherd ca’ed Andrew Glenn

Div ye myn o Keyhole Kate
A richt nosey quine fer sure
Peerin throwe fowk’s keyholes
Her lugwis geen a clour

Anither een fit cums tae myn
Is Freddy the Fearless Flee
Fa wisna feart o onything
Tho’ times he wid nearly dee

Hungry Horace , a greedy loon
Wis ayewis lookin fer a feed
Be it cake or funcy pieces
Ony kine o grub wis gweed

Some o the comic characters
Wis drawn by a cartoonist chiel
Bi the name o Dudley Watkins
Oor Wullie an The Broons as weel

Bit am feart iss institution
Is weel past its sell by date
The kid’s nae langer  myn o
Korky the Cat or Keyhole Kate

The Dandy’s noo gaen digital
Bit nithing is as braw
As curlin up wi a comic
Fin ootside is win an snaw

So here’s tae a braw comic
Fit laisted ower siventy ears
Tae The Dandy an its characters
We shud raise three bliddy cheers
.

 

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

Nov 302012
 

By Bob Smith.


A committee made up o MSPs
Hiv said winfairms hinna indeed
Geen an connacht the tourism
Aawye north o the River Tweed
.
Thon “World Expert in Tourism”
A mannie bi the name o Trump
Is said tae be spittin mad
Nae doot he’ll tak the hump
.
His he noo lost the battle?
Ower the turbines tae be built
Lit’s hope he ups an waaks awa
Wi a claymore stuck “up his kilt”
.
Nae been a gweed time fer Donald
Things  hinna lately geen his wye
Barack Obama still is the President
So at near aabody Trump lit fly
.
He tweeted fowk he thocht wid listen
“Mairch on Washington”wis his yammer
Some fowk thocht iss wis fair revoltin
Wintin Donald thrown in the “slammer”

An American chiel named Carusone
His petitioned yon American store
Tae dump aa Trump’s brand goods
Askin Macy’s  tae show him the door
.
Ower half a million hiv already signed
Some are boycottin Macy’s stores
Wull the COE hae tae buckle
If fowk picket ootside the doors
.
The Donald nae lang syne
Thocht Chinese goods war crap
Orders tae mak his “signature “brand
Hiv noo landit in China’s lap
.
Nae doot he’ll mak a muckle profit
If lower wages are pyed in China
An sells his “Trump” suits an ties
Fae New York tae Sooth Carolina
.
Faar dis iss leave The Donald
Fin here an America fur dis fly
Wull the chiel jist pack his bags
An tae Trump we can say bye bye 

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

 

Nov 232012
 

By Bob Smith.

O fit a stramash wis on twitter
Cooncillors made theirsels look feel
Tryin tae be affa clivver
Wi tweets fae chiel tae chiel

Awa an growe up is ma cry
Yer supposed tae be worthy o votes
An nae behaving like numpties
As tho ye war ill-trickit goats

Bit then again they’re cooncillors
Fit mair div we really expect
Aye sneerin an snarlin at each ither
An nae showin ony bliddy respect

Ye buggers – fowk did elect ye
Tae dee fit’s best fer us aa
Nae struttin aroon like bubblyjocks
Or cocks fa like tae craw

Aa  yer postins on twitter
Wis aneuch tae mak fowk greet
A wis remindit aboot a freen
Fa thinks only twits div “tweet”

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

 

 

 

 

Nov 202012
 

Following the latest, ongoing outbreak of Israeli violence against the people of Gaza, citizens of Aberdeen demonstrate their solidarity and support for those under attack.  With thanks to Dave Black.

On Saturday 17 November, some 50 people gathered at short notice to show their support and solidarity for the people of Gaza, who are facing daily massacres at the hands of the Israeli Defence Force.
Meeting in Aberdeen’s St Nicholas Square, many carried flags or banners stating “Stand With Gaza” and “End Israeli War Crimes,” while shouts of “Free Palestine” rang in the air.

Powerful speeches were delivered by Brian Carroll (Aberdeen TUC President) and Tommy Campbell (Unite Regional Officer).

Veteran pro-Palestinian activist and member of Scottish Jews for a Just Peace Hilda Meers gave the crowd a moving rendition of her poem Erasure – Death-Dance for a Palestinian Child.

Many passers-by stopped and took the time to sign a petition demanding Alec Salmond immediately halts any political and economic relationships with Israel until the oppression of Gaza has ended and the human rights of Palestinians are recognised.

Plans for taking forward solidarity with the people of Gaza will be progressed at a public meeting upstairs at the Belmont Cinema this Thursday 22 November at 7.30pm.

The agenda will include building towards an Aberdeen-Gaza Skype link-up at 2pm on 08 December at the University of Aberdeen’s MacRobert Building (room 613). This event is aimed at hearing directly the experiences of people in Gaza, forging links between activists and interested groups/individuals in Aberdeen and Gaza and looking at how these can be taken forward in the future.

<<<<    >>>>

  ERASURE – Death-Dance For A Palestinian Child, As Seen On A Video From Gaza

(During the Israeli Cast Lead attack on Gaza, Israeli soldiers fired on Palestinian ambulances to prevent them carrying wounded civilians to hospital. Sixteen medics were killed, resulting in casualties being ferried in donkey carts).

See the donkey-cart driver
race along the road, fast, fast –
pulling up with a jerk, not a word,
now his journey’s done.
.
See a mother leap out of the cart.
As she runs, runs, runs,
see her feet pound the ground,
the child in her arms so still, silent and still.
.
A man comes at a run, running quick, quick,
he runs towards the woman,
his arms reach for the child who lies silent,
unmoving and silent in sheltering arms.
.
Then turning, he runs, runs fast, quickly nears,
nearing the open door he surrenders the child
to other arms reaching, to bring help
for the child lying silent and still.
See the doctors bend over the hospital bed,
as they work for response from the child on the bed –
despairing at last, they must cover the head
of a child whose life has been stilled.
.
Whose life has been stilled,
has been stolen away,
the mother’s heart broken –
what more can I say?
.
What more can I say
What more can I do
As I try to convince you
This is our heartbreak too.
.
.
.
.
© Hilda Meers
Nov 122012
 

By Bob Smith.

Lit’s nae foget the sacrifice
O oor brave loons an quines
Fa perished in war’s carnage
An a puckle lost their myns
.
Lit’s nae forget the sacrifice
At the Somme or Passchendaele
Lit’s nae forget the bravery
O the chiels fae toon or vale
.
Lit’s nae forget the sacrifice
O the billies fae learn’t tae flee
In Spitfires an in bombers
A hullock o them wid dee
.
Lit’s nae forget the sacrifice
O D-Day an El Alamein
Or at Cassino ower in Italy
Oot o bodies life wid drain
.
Lit’s nae forget the sacrifice
In Burma or Singapore
An biggin railways in the jungle
Fit’s gin doon in war folklore
.
Lits nae forget the sacrifice
By some sailors on the ocean waves
Fin convoys they ran the gauntlet
An U-boats sint them tae their graves
Lits nae forget the sacrifice
In Kenya, Malaya an Korea
Or in the island o Cyprus
Aroon the toon o Nicosia
.
Lits nae forget the sacrifice
In Aden Arabs made their pitch
Far squaddies tried tae keep the peace
Some led by yon “Mad Mitch”
.
Lits nae forget the sacrifice
On Falkland’s lan an sea
An ower in Northern Ireland
Fowk fae conflict warna free
.
Lits nae forget the sacrifice
In Iraq an in Afghanistan
Far loons and quines hiv perished
In attacks fae the Taliban
.
Lits nae forget the sacrifice
O firefighters an ambulance crews
An the nurses in the front line
Durin wars like World War 2
.
So remember aa these gallant fowk
Fa deet so we’d bide free
Fa pyed the ultimate sacrifice
As their lives they did gie

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012