Writing

Radio

Bow Tie: a comedy radio play written with Darren Rapier. Inspired by our experience working in what we used to call
T.I.E or Theatre In Education but is now called Applied Theatre.

Poems

My poems are written in Scots, the language I grew up speaking as a child. I write in Scots to keep it alive for myself but also to contribute to the growing movement of writers embracing and sharing our beautiful language. I will stick more poems up as I go along.

The Queen is Deid

Did yese no hear?

Yon Queen is deid

Happent in the past year

Thare wis a great muckle pairty

Wi balloons and laids o cake

Aw and a massie wauk

Fowk queued for oors

Tae see a widden box kivert in flouers

Auld puddin fingers Chairlie stappit up

He’s no a prince ony mair, nou the king

Thay’re giein him a new bunnet

The wan wi stowen jewels upon it

And we get tae pey fir the hale splore

Fae the fleurs, caition and mebbe a dance fluir

Whair Chairlie will brank wi his side bit Camilla

Hersel is richtous nou

It gaes tae shaw

If ye pit in the time ye win it aw

Rollercoaster

A rollercoaster is a terrible thing

Thrawin you aboot like a giant swing

A hell ride frae the maument it leaves the grund

Pikin ye up and spinnin you roond and roond

Why did ye dae it I hear yese cry

Why shuit yersel intae the sky?

A did it for ma son

It wis his wunnerfu idea o fun

And a wuid dae it aw again

Juist tae see the smile oan his face

Whan a skreicht cause

A felt a wis bein lencht intae space

Panda - monium*
My first poem in Scots.
I generally like to inject a bit of humour into my poems.

*credit to Denise (my wife)

Yon Panda!

Whit's gaun oan thare?

It’s like thay daedna e’en care

I rackon thay huild a preevat meetin’

Whaur it wis declare’t

“that’s it we’re nae for breedin’

and were tire’t of human interferin’

Wi’ rideeculous efforts tae get us tae bonk

Saft jazz, muid lichting and bamboo flavoured plonk

Dae we try wan mair time?

Mebbe introduce a different kin o beir

Mix a Grizzly wi’ a Panda

Caw it a Granda

Shoots a Panda fae within his lair

Stap actin’ as if yae care

I didna ken Pandas coud spak

We canna

it’s yer imaigination

Whit shoud a dae? I aks

Leave us alane he says

Which a did

Unco fowk (Unkind Folk)
I wrote this as part of Scotstober on Twitter where you were encouraged to write a poem a day based on one word, this one was Unco

Unco fowk

Unco fowk are anely unco till ye git tae knaw thaim

An unco ye get tae knaw coud becam a pal

Sae dinnae reject the unco

Inveet thaim in

Dinnae lea’ fremmit fowk oot in the cauld

Remember it coud be yersel

It juist takes wan wrang stap

And afore ye knaw it yer bein cawed unco fowk

Howkin (digging)
Another poem from Scotstober on Twitter

Howkin

As a wis howkin in the grund

Guess whit a fund

A portal tae yon underwirld

A steppit inside

An aw hell unfurled

Auld Sim staundin thair

In aw his graith

Says

“Wit ya daen doun here?”

“I’ve neigh idea”

“Wall, dinnae wirry I’ll see ye soon”

Afare a cauld ask

“Hou lang will a last?”

And gat the repone I feart

A wis back staundin in ma yaird

Astronaut

A met a fella dresst as an astronaut

Doun the pub the ither nicht

He sits neist tae me

We hae this conversation

Wid youse come as?

Am an astronaut

Sure ye are

Wid ye gae intae space?

Hou no?

I canna be bathert

Canna be bathert!?

Aye, lea’ me alane!

Its ooter space!

Calm doon I dinnae want tae gae to the moon!

Hou no?

A’v got things tae dae

Like wit?

Shappin, watchin tv, drinkin, peyin bills

Yer a boring man, leadin a life wi’ nae thrills

So whit if A am?

A’m aff

Whaur ye gaun?

Up tae space

Aye, shuir ye are

Follae me

He taks me ootby

Richt thare inside the car park

Staunds

A great muckle racket

Ye gettin’ in?

A thocht for a seicont

Na, A’v got tae get ma messages

He sheuk his heid and sclimmed inside

And teuk aff

I presume tae the moon

Keepin Halthy

Yon doctor telt me A’m tae mind ma halth

He says a hiv tae luik aftair mysel

So, a stertit on that granola

A hiv it in a big bowl…a

A ken at’s an awfu rhyme

But a tak it as a sign

That awthings gaun tae be fine

As lang as a hiv ma sense o dafferie

A daena believe in heiven or heckleburnie

But if a did

Am shuir Auld Bobbie hissel

Wad tell me

Gae back up ye great gabberloun

Dae some stuff ye ayeways meant tae

And on that imaiginary advisement

A’m haein chocolate and coffee for brakfast