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Bathsheba Nov 2010
Out today

To buy some plates

Nought to my liking

I’m in a terrible state!

Stuck behind

a

Renault Espace

‘Yummy Mummy’ (sticker)

In pride of place!

It piqued my interest

So …. I had a peek

‘Yummy Mummy’

What a cheek!

A face that looked like a sicked up bun

Could only

ever

be

loved

By this

Wobbler’s Mum

Oh my God

It made me laugh

“Cover up those warts,

hey, borrow my scarf”


What would posses this creature from hell?

To create the illusion

That she was a swell

Does she not realise

That we all have eyes?

A priest would think twice

Before he baptised

You would cross the road

To avoid this face

Yet …. She’s out in the public

What a ******* disgrace!

Next to her sat a fat baby pig

Dressed up to the nines

Methinks …

“It’s time for a cig …”

As I inhale

I look up to the sky

Apply too much gas

“Oh **** … I might die!”

I slam on the brakes

But alas

It’s too late

No time for reactions

No time for debates

Crash

Bang

Wallop


Straight into the rear

The car is a write off

There is trouble

I fear

As I gather my thoughts

This creature appears

Bedraggled and angry

Piglet’s in tears!

I try my best to calm her down

Soothe her wobbly bits

But she is all a bother

Piggy’s got the *****!


So … I look up and down the road

See … I know the drill



Just one simple gentle push

‘Yummy Mummys’

Over the hill!

Now …. Don’t you go a worrying?

Piglet

is

Safe and secure


I toss old squeaker in the boot

Start on my new detour

Soon I’m home and fired up

It’s time to raise the heat

Piggy will be spit roast

Sweet juices will secrete

Apples are gently cooking

Tatties are crisp and just done

I invite the neighbours over

For some summer bbq fun

Old Man Rodgers sits on his chair

Tucking

into

Porkpie’s arm

Lucy Lee the ******

Gobbles with old aged charm

We had a laugh that breezy day

Love was in the air

We danced naked round the spit roast

With abandonment

No care


Soon the feast was over

There was nothing left but bones

We tossed them in the wishing well

With the rest of the unknowns

**So next time you get an inkling

That you’re a ‘yummy’ or a ‘babe’

Be careful where you drive my friend

For your life’s about to fade

Fade into the darkness

Along with all the rest

Please pay attention to these words

For this is my last bequest
Karen Alexander Oct 2009
The turkey was a-roasting
The tatties were a-toasting
Have a glass of wine!
                …
The brussel’s were a-boiling
The pudding was a-baking
Brandy first, then dine!

The crackers we’re a-pulling
The jokes we are a-telling
A tot of port is fine!

The carols we are singin’
The presents we are givin’
A wishky? If there’s time!

Now on the shofa cuddlin’
Kishin’ and a-shnugglin’
A sherry’sh not a crime!

Then we shleep a-dreamin’
In shlumber both a-beamin’
‘til tequila shunrise time!

Alan McClure Sep 2016
Historical fiction -
that's where it's at.
Quite fancy writing
about Roman Britain.

A native kid, say,
growing up
in the shadow
of the legions.

I describe
an imagined feast
to my pal,
who pulls me up short.

"They didny hae tatties
in Roman times.
They're fae America,
ken?"

And I'm grateful,
but I'll struggle to base
a bestselling trilogy
on an absence of potatoes.
Ryan May 2020
From the East Coast of Ireland to the Lowlands of Scotland,
a well-trodden path,
Grandma going to Whiteinch Baths,
to do the family laundry,
And to take my Auntie for a swim,
the black and white photos look a bit grim.

She mispronounces certain words.
When you put your dinner in between some bread,
she'd look at you, dead, and say,
"If yis waanted sangwhiches, I'd have made yis sangwhiches!"

And, "you're very pass-remarkable,"
I think it means you're quick to comment on others,
my Mother's also from Glasgow,
and doesn't know why Grandma speaks like that,
so this isn't just me being a Sassenach,
or a daft English ****.

25th of January is Burns Night,
serve the neeps, tatties, a glass of fizz,
and of course, some Haggis.
Some say offal's awful,
but I just can't get enough of the stuff.

A firm favourite of our clan is a creamy dessert named Cranachan.
Topped with berries and a splash of whiskey,
you can guarantee a thumbs up from me.

The ancient family tartan is red and blue,
then there's the family crest too,
a knight with a shield under a tree,
I think it represents gallantry.

I sometimes wish I had a proper Scottish name,
like Hamilton, Douglas, or McCain,
don't suppose it matters,
at least I can understand the patter,
(that means joke or language.)

A saying about saving your coins,
"Mony a mickle macks a muckle,"
always makes me chuckle.

"Does it, aye?"
is a very dry reply,
used to take the **** and can be easy to miss.

When my Mum was younger, the family liked to roam,
but when she visits Glasgow,
she says it feels like home,
her voice even changes when she's on the phone.

Sounds English most of the day,
then my Auntie calls, and she's on her way,
"Haud ye weesht!" when she picks up the phone,
that means be quiet,
but you wouldn't have known,
that isn't her normal speaking tone.

Scottish family,
some are distant to me,
but through my parentage,
it's nice to have the heritage.
A beginner who is looking for some constructive feedback.
Chicken in boxes and burgers in bars,on the streets and in cars,everyone eats as if it's their last ever meal.
Did you ever feel that the whole world's a mouth and we're all going South or just me?
I see take aways being taken and salt being shaken on chips and on cod and I do think it odd that no one is satisfied with stone baked,grilled or deep fat fried and I've tried to resist the nice crisp of a pizza as sold in the hut but I'm just a man.
I can no more remain stoic, and I'm not that heroic that I would starve before eating,the fact is food's beating me down.

I could go into town and come back weighted down with bags full of haddock and tatties,sporadically I get these mad urges to merge into mutton become a glutton for punishment.
A lamb's not what I am
I am a man and can resist,deep crispy pancakes and sweet toasted lakes of fresh maple syrup,
but the indent is there and it's food that I care for,I swear I would die for and it's there,why should I wait for a blessing from you.
Come on and join in,come and give it a spin let's pig out together,whether you like it or not,it's food that is hot and it's fashion today,
so what do you say to a pie?
R Dickson Jan 2024
Here’s a wee yin for his birthday
The hale world’s hae’in his supper
Time for a poem or a song
And a wee whisky chaser

Enjoy Rabbie’s supper
Wi that big sonsie face
And neeps and tatties
Wi nae stomach space

Every toon in Scotland
Every pub that he’s been in
Telt some odd stories
About his kith an’ kin

Telt them in auld Scots
It’s the language that he kens
If he’s got a beer in haun
He’ll pit doon the pen

Socialising wi’ pals
Whisky, beer and song
All the things to be enjoyed
An’ that cannae be wrong

They call him the bard
But he’s just a man
Wi some great stories to tell
And as many as he can.

— The End —