Aug 222011
 

By Bob Smith.

Scottish fitba’s noo dire,
it’s stuck in the mire
It’ll hae a richt fecht ti survive
Cos o the cost,
mair fans they are lost
As T.V shows games fit are live

Faar’s aa the flair,
excitement’s nae mair
As coaches  use a rigid formation
Aa 4-5-1 noo,
or thon 4-4-2
An fans gie vent ti frustration

Faar’s aa the wingers,
faa o crosses war slingers
They’re nae langer seen in the game
Jist a lot o fly guys,
faa are gweed at a dive
Each wikk it’s jist mair o the same

There’s nae Graham Leggat,
faa hid fullbacks fair fleggit
As doon the touchline he wid glide
Wi his quick feet,
maist opponents he beat
An they landed up on their backside

Modern players micht be fit,
bit the fitba is shit
Gweed  goal poachers we nivver div see
Wi twa banks o fower,
it maks ye fair glower
Fan fae shackles wull fitba be free ?

Fae pundits we hear,
an aa iss I fear
Is ae reason oor fitba’s nae fine
“We’re in the results game”,
is fit they proclaim
Entertainment is far fae their myn

In Europe we fail,
the fans they aa wail
As heids they’re hung doon in shame
Jist hae  players attack,
an nae jist hing back
An bring alive “The Beautiful Game”

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”
Image credit:  © Shaun Mclean | Dreamstime.com

 

Aug 182011
 

By Bob Smith.

The AWPR can ging aheed
Maist fowk hiv gien a cheer
They micht aa yet be greetin
If it turns oot ower damn’t dear

Awa back a fyow eer ago
Fower hunner million wis the cost
Aa doot iss wull be far awa
Fae the final figure we’re tossed

A’ve nithing agin the roddie
Apairt fae far it gings
Ower bliddy near the toon
Destroyin ony benefit it brings

Dinna believe me?  please yersel
Jist dee a wee bit speirin
Ye’ll  fin aa ither by-passes
Hiv biggins near them appearin

Doon the line aboot ten eer on
Mair hooses and big sheddies aboot
Cars an larries gyaan ti an fro
Cumin on an aff iss route

Ti tak the HGV’s past the toon
Iss thocht we aa maun broach
AWPR shud be biggit farrer wast
So developers they canna encroach

Biggin the roddie far they wint
Is a folly fair complete
A fear ma freens we’ll fin oot
The AWPR micht become obsolete

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
Image credit: © Axel Drosta | Dreamstime.com

 

Aug 122011
 

By Bob Smith.

The Donald he is cryin oot
“They canna dee iss ti me
Biggin a muckle great windfairm
Oot in the grey north sea”

Hypocrisy teen ti new leevels
Is fit fowk micht jalouse
His gowf course connached an SSSI
Yet he compleens aboot spyled views

Noo maybe the Scottish Government
Wull be scratchin aa their pows
If Trumpie mounts a challenge
An iss leads ti affa rowes

“Scotland’s open fer business”
Wis their triumphant hoot
Refusin the windfairm application
Wid pit iss claim in doot

The spyled view fae the gowf course
“The greatest een in the world”
Micht result in him pullin oot
Afore a flagstick’s bin unfurled

Wi rage Donald wull be duncin
If iss win’ project they’ll nae cull
He’ll try some bluff an bluster
Cos o win’ he is richt full

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011

Image credit:  © Sebastian Czapnik | Dreamstime.com

Aug 042011
 

By Tom Shepherd. 

Idle banter, useless prattle
Blether, gossip, tittle-tattle
“Have you heard?”
“No, what’s the matter?”
 Scuttle-butt and empty chatter.

Vacant news and hollow lies
Scarring friendships, breaking ties
Neighbours gossip, rumour mills
Seeds of distrust sown, great ills
Harvested without a care
People once who trusted, stare.
Curtains twitch and heads are turned
Lovers part and colleagues spurned.

As threads through which we all relate
Are severed by fear, doubt and hate,
Where honeyed tongues drown honesty
In stagnant mire of false decree
When speculation, most uncouth,
With hateful slander strangles proof.
Let voices soar, cry from the roof;
“Whatever happened to the truth?”

Image credit: © Guy Shapira | Dreamstime.com

 

 

 

Aug 042011
 

By Bob Smith.

There’s ti be a public inquiry
Aboot a new brig ower the Don
Fit raised a puckle objections
Fae the residents o Tillydrone

Noo its thocht that maybe CPOs
Micht be used ti pinch fowk’s lans
A fair fyow bits o gairdens
Wid be teen oot o their hauns

As weel as kickin up a stink
Aboot the use o thae CPOs
Fowk in Tillydrone an Widdside
Are feart faar the traffic flows

Cars an larries fae aff the brig
Wull roar bye hoose front doors
Nae a thocht  fer folkies wellbein
As the car coont it fair soars

Eence they bigg mair hooses
Oot ower the Brig o Don wye
A fowerth brig crossin the river
Wull nae doot bi the cry

Noo here’s a thocht ma freens
An iss we jist maan speir
If aa iss happened  near Rubislaw Den
Wid plans git oot o first gear?

Support the fowk fae Tillydrone
Tell the planners ti back aff
Eence mair some in iss toon
Are threatened wi plans richt naff

.
.
.
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011

 

Jul 292011
 

By Bob Smith.

Young Dod his ti get mairret
Ti a quine fae doon the howe
He hisna tell’t his mither yet
So there’ll be an affa rowe

Fan Dod’ll tell his mither
I’m nae jist affa sure
Bit ye’ll nae doot hear her rantin
Fae Alford up ti Drummuir

Dod’s quine’s jist a young deem
Fa’s pit on a bittie wecht
Throwe a bit o hunky punky
Efter a marquee dunce at Echt

His mither noo she’s affa prood
Dod’s the aipple o her ee
She’ll fair be less than happy
If  neebors gossip ower their tea

It’ll be a funcy waddin
Dod’s mither wid hae nae less
Fit I doot micht bither her
Is the young quines type o dress

Foo tae cover up the bump
The quine’s mither will wark oot
Fit she wid richt like ti dee
Is skelp Dod’s lug nae doot

The quine hersel is nae pit oot
As she gyangs aboot her wark
Nae doot thinkin o the nicht
Young Dod he made his mark


©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010.  Image Credit:   © Madja | Dreamstime.com

Jul 222011
 

By Bob Smith.

 

Yon Murdoch mannie’s nae happy
In fact he’s jist fair pit oot
The NOTW accused o hackin phones
An pyein oor bobbies aff wi loot

Papers fer some mony ears
Hiv hid ower muckle swye
Politicians aa feart ti act
In case they’re hung oot ti dry

The investigative journalist hack
We still o coorse div need
Bit nae the type faa brak the rules
Jist ti satisfy Murdoch’s greed

Noo fowk faa bocht his papers
Some class  a Murdoch Muppet
An aa helpit prop up his empire
Oot his brose bowl they hiv suppit

Lit’s nae forget oor local lot
Faa git up ti aa sorts o capers
As promoters o  yon Donald Trump
Losh he’s nivver oot their papers 

The P&J shud bi worried
If its practices are reviewed
Ower lang its hid a monopoly
Gweed fowk’s views are screwed

Fae Lowrenkirk ti Lerwick
An ower wast ti Stornoway
The daily fit rules the roost?
It’s the bliddy P&J

It’s nae eese noo girnin
Ti thon lot at thePCC
We need fowk fa are independent
An fae press barons wull bide free

Ye’ll nae fin me greetin
If Murdoch he gings bust
An aa his media empire
It finally bites the dust

The only Murdoch a div like
Is fae “Sunday Post’s” comic stuff
An aul farrant sort o bobby
He’d  hae Rupert in hauncuffs 

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
Image credit: © Christopher Hall | Dreamstime.com 

 

Jul 152011
 

By Bob Smith.

Abe Lincoln’s wirds we shud heed
They’re nae aat hard ti swalla
“Corporations hiv bin enthroned”
“Corruption in high places wull folla”

It’s noo weel ower a hunner ear
Sin  Mr Lincoln made iss quote
Bit in the modern warld o oors
His fine wirds are nae remote

Corporations hiv ruled the roost
Fer ower lang in oor bonnie city
Cooncils kowtowin ti their needs
They’ve nae backbeen -mair’s the pity

I’m nae sayin there’s corruption
Bit at times ye hiv ti winner
Some business plans in oor toon
Cooncillors dinna aye wint ti hinner

Bit iss is nae jist a local thingie
Seems rife aa throwe the nation
Fin fightin fer democracy
Fowk  suffer wi frustration

A question I’ve heard afen asked
An een fit’s nae aat funny
Are some o the toon cooncillors
In the hip pooch o them wi money?

The answer ti iss question is
As yet we’ve nae solid proof
Bit if there’s joukerie pawkery
We’ll  raise the bliddy roof

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011

 

Jul 012011
 

By Bob Smith.

Hiv ye heard o the fairy tale
Fit’s telt bi oor local press
Faa boast they report aa local news?
A richt fable ye maun confess

An award winnin film ‘You’ve Been Trumped’
Ti a full picter hoose it played
Nivver a wird in the P&J
Nae EE heidlines iss made

Noo it wis the Scottish premier
O the story aboot fowk at Menie
Ye wid hae thocht iss warranted
A scrawl fae a journalist’s penie

Can ye tell fact fae fiction
Fan oor local press div print?
Stories aboot gyaan’s on at Menie
Ah’m feart the truth gits tint

Noo Trump flees in on private jet
Aa ower their front page it’s splashed
Yet aboot harassment o the Menie fowk
They’re nae aat bliddy fashed

Maybe o coorse oor local press
Ti print some stories they’re nae able
Jist in case they fin theirsels
Banished fae Trump’s tap table.

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011

 

Jun 242011
 

 By Bob Smith.

A fence it his bin biggit
Aroon David Milne’s wee hoose
Trump the bully boy is back
Tryin hard ti tichen the noose

Haaf the cost o iss fencie
He wints pyed bi David Milne
Faa says “awa ye go min”
Yer bank balance we’ll nae fill

A garage wa he wints teen doon
It’s on ma lan Trump says
Bit David he his nae doots
The bliddy wa it stays

Noo Trumpie he disna like it
Fin fowk dinna dee his biddin
Michael Forbes stuck twa fingers up
An winna tidy his so ca’ed “midden”

At PR wark Trump’s nae eese
He kittles a fair fyow locals
Aye treatin fowk wi disdain
As tho’ they’re kintra yokels

O coorse Trump’s o aat breed
Faa see themsels as go getters
It’s time ti tell him ti —- aff
The missin wird his fower letters

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011

Note:  Voice’s ‘poetry mannie’ Bob Smith reviews ‘You’ve Been Trumped’ in Scottish Review – click here( See ‘The cafe 2’ column. )