Fatty Arbuckles And Tessie O’Sheas

 Articles, Creative Writing, Opinion  No Responses »
Jan 282011
 

potnoodle
By Bob Smith.

We’ve aa pit on a bittie wecht
Caused  by eatin convenience food
Nae mair time it seems we tak
Ti cook fit’s healthy an good

We stuff oorsels wi ready made meals
Shoved in the oven or microwave
Iss food is maistly tasteless shite
Tho’ time it wid seem we save

Fowk are classed as cooch tatties
TV channels they hiv on tap
I canna get ma heid roon iss
As the T.V noo is crap

“I hivna time ti cook a meal”
Tis the modern hoosewife’s wail
Jist aet fit a pit afore ye
Tho ye micht get like a whale

Mair choice! mair choice! we gie ye
Is the supermarkets prood boast
Nivver myn that fit wer eatin
His traivelled fae the sooth coast

Maybe we should listen ti the pleas
An cook like  aal Auntie Jessie
Unless we aa wint ti turn intae
A Fatty Arbuckle or Twa Ton Tessie

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

The Lost Village

 Aberdeen City, Articles, Creative Writing, Opinion  No Responses »
Jan 212011
 

boatpic
By Bob Smith.

Tak a trip oot bye Cove
 It’s aneuch ti mak ye greet
 Nae langer a quiet wee hamlet
 Wi sma hoosies alang Main Street

Fit hiv they deen ti the village
 Hooses thrown up here an there
 The auld pairt still his tranquility
 The rest is hard ti bear

Hae a waak up past the skweel
 An ye’ll see fit I div mean
 Aa the paths aroon Whitehills
 Are nae langer ti be seen

The lang street fit’s Loirston Road
 Wi it’s affshoot the “Hennie Raw”

creelspic
His still a lot o hoosies
 Fit are bonnie bricht an braw

Gyang wakkin doon the Main Street
 Past the weel kent Cove Bay Hotel
 The closer ye cam ti the shore
 The air his aat tangy smell

Kids used ti be able ti sledge
 Doon the brae an ower the brig
 If they wir ti try iss nooadays
 Some graves they wid hae ti dig

A bonnie freenly place wis Cove
 Far ye eence stoppit for a blether
 Wi muckle hoosin developments and sic
 Fowk noo  at the eyn o their tether

Thoosans o hooses aa roon aboot

boatspic
For fowk fa wark in Aiberdeen
 Nae thocht for life’s quality
 Fit aul “Covers” wid hae seen

Div the kids still play at the shore?
 Div they waak on the parapets?
 Div they swing on pulley ropes still?
 Faar the fisher fowk hung their nets

Harry Gordon  he sang iss song
 “Tak me back ti Cove”
 If Harry wis here nooadays
 He’d say na na by jove

Developers an planners are let loose
 On villages fae Don ti the Tay
 Can we stop iss mass invasion
 O ither villages like Cove Bay

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

Disk Space Is Tint

 Articles, Creative Writing, Satire and Humour  No Responses »
Jan 072011
 

puterpiccietallerpic
By Bob Smith.

I switched on my computer
 Ae cauld December day
 Fit I found on ma screen
 Fair filled me wi dismay

“Yer affa low on disk space”
 The bubble it me did tell
 I sat an scratched ma heid
 An some obscenities did yell

I tried ma best ti recover space
 By deletin’ some o ma files
 It didna mak muckle odds
 I wis losin space in style

Gweed fowk gied me suggestions
 An them I aa then used
 By the time I wis feenished
 I wis gettin’ mair confused

Doon an doon the GB’s wint
 Till I wis near despair
 I punched in iss, I punched in aat
 An tuggit oot tufts o hair

The laptop it his nearly been
 Fair chukkit in the bin
 Bit fegs I’m an Aiberdonian
 Throwin’ siller awa is a sin

So ma freens I’m noo affline
 Cos I canna doonload at speed
 The computer’s in for an MOT
 So disk space can be freed

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

Bad King Donald

 Aberdeenshire, Articles, Creative Writing, Satire and Humour  No Responses »
Dec 312010
 

BAD KING DONALD By Bob Smith.

(Ti be sung ti the tune o Good King Wenceslas)

trumpslimmer
Bad King Donald lookit oot
trumpslimmer

Ower his course at Menie
Fog an haar wis aa aboot
Fowk widna spend a penny
Tho’ brichtly shone the harbour lichts
Ye couldna see them twinkle
Syne a puir chiel hove in sicht
On dunes wis haein a tinkle

Hither Dod an stan by me
Disobey me at yer peril
Ging an see fit he  micht wint
He maybe could be feral
Sire he bides jist doon the wye
Thon fishermannie fae Menie
Faa widna sell his hoose ti ye
An refused’ti tak a penny

Ging an see fit he dis wint
I dinna like trespassin
Fit a peety the cooncil says
The stocks are oot o fashion
Donald an Dod they strode oot
Haun an haun tigither
Peerin throwe the fog an haar
Causin them great bither

Dod he says noo tak yer time
An note faar ye are gyaan
Watch faar ye div pit yer feet
In case ye micht be faain
Dod ye are a fearty gowk
I ken fit I am deein
Tho’ it micht be foggy kine
An afen we’re nae seein’

Dod in maister’s steps he trod
Tho’ he thocht it crazy
Nivver a wird he did spik
Aathin’it wis hazy
Syne they saw an ootline shape
Near the salty brine so
Fin they got a bittie close
It was jist  a wind turbine  tho’

Sire,the mannie we hiv missed
In the haar he’s hidden
He’ll be back in his hame
The een ye ca a midden
Dammit Dod I’m fair pit oot
In fact I’m bliddy hissin
The mannie his nae richt ye see
On my dunes ti be pissin

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

Div Ye Myn

 Aberdeen City, Articles, Creative Writing  No Responses »
Dec 172010
 

By Bob Smith.

unionsttallpic
Div ye myn o’ Andrew Collies
Wi’ its waft o’ tea an’ coffee
Div ye myn o’ Thomson’s sweetie shop
Faar ye bocht aa kinds o’ toffee

Div ye myn o’ Cocky Hunter
Faar ye got maist onything
Div ye myn o’ Reid and Pearson
Weemin’s fashions they did bring

Div ye myn o’ Ledingham the bakers
Wi’ their restaurant up abeen
Div ye myn o’ the Princess Cafe
Faar ye looked oot ower the Green

Div ye myn o’ Aberdeen Motors
Faar ye bocht an Austin “Devon”
Div ye myn o’ Isaac Benzie
Faar yer mither wis in heaven

Div ye myn  o’ Pat McGee the tailors
Faa kept ye weel turned oot
Div ye myn o’ Milne an’ Munro
Faar ye bocht a leather shoe or boot

Div ye myn o’ Matheson the butcher
Wi’ his shops aa ower the city
Div ye myn o’ the Aberdeen Savings Bank
If ye hid money in the kitty

Div ye myn  o’ Paterson Sons & Marr Wood
Faar ye got a piano or an organ
Div ye myn o’ Gordon & Smith, the grocers
Faa selt spirits named Sandeman  or Morgan

Div ye myn  o’ yon Alexanders
Faar ye bocht bikes or radio sets
Div ye myn o’ Browns in Belmont Street
Faar  ye got fishin’ rods an’  nets

Div ye myn o’ the weekly Bon-Accord
Wi’ its pages printed in green
Div ye myn o’ The Rubber Shop
Faa selt fitba’ beets an bowlers’ sheen

Div ye myn’ o’ aa the ither shops
We’ve lost – mair is the pity
Div ye myn o’ aa the pleasure
Fit wis in the centre o’ the city

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”

SNAW

 Creative Writing, Satire and Humour  No Responses »
Dec 032010
 

By Bob Smith.

snaw1pic
Here comes the affa bleedin snaw
Dingin doon – its flakes div fa
Aa aroon ye hear sic cas
Its cauld aneuch tae freeze yer bas

Its time tae weer yer winter woollies
If ye dinna wint tae lose yer goolies
An if its aneuch tae mak ye sweir
Mak sure the minister Disna hear

Ice maks ye skite aa ower the place
Ye nearly fa doon on yer face
Car drivers wi  brains a bittie saft
Flee aroon at speeds gey daft

Kids – snawbas they like tae chuck
An mony a bodie his tae duck
Jist myn ye were eence young yersel
So fling some back then rin like hell.

Arise An Be Revoltin

 Aberdeen City, Aberdeenshire, Creative Writing, Environment, Opinion  No Responses »
Nov 192010
 

By Bob Smith.

arise2
Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 It’s time ti be revoltin
 Agin the destruction o oor city
 Yer brains they need a-joltin

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 Show yer nae Widdie’s flunkies
 This mannie treats us wi disdain
 As tho’ we’re bliddy donkeys

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 An ask Sir Ian faar wis he
 Fin the ship building an the fishin
 They war jist allowed ti dee

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 We’re bein selt doon the river
 Eence an SPV gets oor gairdens
 They’ll aa be lost firivver

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 It’s time ti show yer mettle
 Oppose the biggin ower UTG
 Bring it back inti fine fettle

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 Afore it’s ower damn’t late
 An aa oor sheepish cooncillors
 Hand it awa upon a plate

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 Are ye lions or a wee moose
 Stan up for aa oor heritage
 Afore the diggers are let loose

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 Man the wa’s an the city gate
 Afore ye ken faar we are
 We‘ll hae become Trumpton State

Arise gweed fowk o Aiberdeen
 Tak heid o aa these verses
 An gie a skelp ti cooncillors lugs
 Or kick them up their erses

© Bob Smith”The Poetry Mannie” 2010

Tae A Lassie (Wi’oot A Coat)

 Articles, Creative Writing, Satire and Humour  No Responses »
Nov 122010
 

By Tom Shepherd.

athootacoat
Wee drookit, soaking, rained on lassie
 Fit wye d’yae nae tak yer coat wi ye?
 Yer soakit tae yer skin an’cauld
 An’ affae sniffly.
 Yer dolled up fine fer clubbin’, aye
 But worse off now.

Doun Union Street an’ Windmill Brae
 Ye totter wi’ a partial sway.
 Aw glammed up fae a grand night oot
 Wi’ pals an’ fellers.
 But wind an’ rain or hail an’ snow
 Aren’t strangers tae us.

Ah’d feel sae sorry for you freezin’
 But you can’t feel it ‘cos yer bleezin’.
 The morn you’ll nae doubt wake up sneezin’
 Wi’ a hangover.
 Oh, to be young an’ hack the weather
 With nae jersey!

A Fairy Story Or Horror Story?

 Articles, Creative Writing, Featured, Satire and Humour  No Responses »
Nov 122010
 

monoperdeen-pic
A Fairy Story Or Horror Story? ….. By Bob Smith.

Warner Bros. brocht us “Looney Tunes”xx.i sx.xi.x Congestion chargin’ in the centre o toon
Cooncil offices produce some goony loonsxs .x.xi.x Noo  wid iss be seen as a boon?
Aa  iss blether aboot cuts an savinsxxxxxxxxxsxix Will it get fowk oot their cars?
Is the product o some madhoose ravinsxxxxxxxxx Mair chunce o aliens bein on Mars

They micht hae ti close oor parksxxxxxssxxxsxxxx Postponin  buildin’ o the toon’s bypass
Nae mair gairdeners in sweaty sarksxxxxsxxxxixxx Iss micht be seen as a touch o class
The Winter Gairdens will be nae mairxxxxxxxfxixxx Bit spare a thocht for staff at Foresterhill
It’s aneuch ti mak ye pull yer hairxxxxxxfxxxsxxxx Iss idea wid mak a lot o fowk ill

Johnston Gairdens, a maist peacefu’ havenxxxisfxx Mergin’ the offices o City an Shire
Jist ti be seen by dyeuks an odd ravenxxxxxxiixfxx Wid raise some cooncil billies ire
Maybe aa the parks  wid  be infilledxxxxxxxxxixfxxsIt wid o coorse save rinnin’ costs
Will Stewartie Milne then start ti build?xxxixxxxfxxxBit a pucklie fowk wid lose their posts

Aul’ bodies will be  in a tizzyxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxiixx Ae benefit o merger we micht  see
In fact they’ll aa be bliddy dizzyxxxxxxxxxiiixxiixxx Fae some looney cooncillors we wid be free
At the thocht o gettin’ less carexxxxxxxxxxxxxixx Bit if jist daft ideas is aa wi’ve got
Faa  ivver thocht iss wid be fairxxxx xxxxxxixxxxx Then the haill damn’t lot hiv lost the plot

Marischal College  nae doot protectedxxxxxxxxxxx ©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010
A bit o “sellie first” is  bein’ detectedxxxxxxx
Aa aat money for new office gearxxxxxxx
Jist wait till I hae a wee bit sweirxxxxxxx

Hoosin Sprawl

 Articles, Creative Writing, Satire and Humour  No Responses »
Nov 052010
 

By Bob Smith.

granite-tall
We’re biggin ower muckle hooses
In oor wee villages an toons
Nae for the local fowk ti bide
Bit fer incomer quines an loons

Ye see mair an mair developments
In Westhill they’ve fair gin mad
In placies like bonnie Cove Bay
It’s jist ivvery bit as bad

Fair saturated wi bricks an mortar
An cars aa aroon are fleein
It maks ye stop an wunner
At iss madness we are seein

We’re telt we need these hoosies
For fowk fa wint ti move up here
Nae word o aa the impact it’ll hae
We’ll be in sic an affa steer

We’re aa affected by iss disease
It’s  name is hoosin sprawl malaise
It slowly creeps aa ower oor land
An we wait for it’s next phase

It canna be cured by a doctor
It can only be stopped by us
Fin ye hear o a hoosin application
Jist kick up a bliddy fuss

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

 Older Entries  Newer Entries