Eggplant.place

208d

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine…

—Edwin Morgan, “Strawberries”🍓
published in CENTENARY SELECTED POEMS (Carcanet, 2020)

https://www.carcanet.co.uk/cgi-bin/indexer?product=9781784109967

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #poem #poetry #LGBTQ #LGBTQplusHM #Valentine #lovepoem #lovepoetry #EdwinMorgan #20thcentury

Strawberries
Edwin Morgan

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates

laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

ALT

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208d

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us…

—Jackie Kay, “A Lang Promise”
published in BANTAM (Picador, 2017)

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jackie-kay/bantam/9781509887927

#Scottish #literature #ValentinesDay #Valentine #poem #poetry #LGBTQ #LGBTQplusHM #lovepoem #lovepoetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #womenwriters #JackieKay

A Lang Promise
Jackie Kay

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us:
blind in the present, eyes open to the furore,
unkempt or perjink, suddenly puir or poorly,
peely-wally or in fine fettle, beld or frosty,
calm as a ghoul or in a feery-farry,
in dork December or in springy spring weather,
doon by the Barrows, or on the Champs-Élysées,
at midnight, first licht, whether the mune
be roond or crescent, and yer o' soond mind
or absent, I'll tak your trusty haun
and lead you over the haw – hame, ma darlin.
I’ll carry ma lantern, and daur defend ye agin ony foe;
and whilst there is breath in me, I'll blaw it intae ye.
Fir ye are ma true luve, the bonnie face I see;
nichts I fall intae slumber, it’s ye swimming up
in all yer guidness and blitheness, yer passion.
You’ll be mine, noo, an’ till the end o’ time,
ma bonnie lassie, I’ll tak the full guid o’ ye
and gie it back, and gie it back tae ye:
a furst kiss, a lang promise, time’s gowden ring.

ALT

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141d

dear small daughter for a long time I did not write
what had already become past-tense was past-tense
and I am sorry I was not able to hold it as one might
in a dream hold a stream of water and sing it to sleep…

—Sheila Black, “Climate (7) (Past Tense)”
published in BREAK IN CASE OF SILENCE: New Writing Scotland 39 (ASL, 2021)

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws39/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #EarthDay #EarthDay2026 #climate #environment #environmentalism #climatechange

Sheila Black
Climate (7) (Past Tense)

dear small daughter for a long time I did not write
what had already become past-tense was past-tense
and I am sorry I was not able to hold it as one might
in a dream hold a stream of water and sing it to sleep
and I am sorry that I told you this image as if it were
in truth perdurable plangent and constant moon
over our seas when it is the shifting that matters.
dear small the birds the mockingbirds they sang
in the middle of the night and for this we cursed
them but then we came upon their nests in the black
of day noon when the sun is a diamond burning
through however much blue and the two of them
circled so tirelessly with their wings fanning the
turquoise eggs inside the nest of dead grass and we
understood we were not the only ones but even this
could not stop us from doing as we had done all
our lives long and the cars we pulled out of driveways
and the highways that took us into the buzzing
electric of buildings poured in dense concrete
and the cooling chemicals seeping and cycling
as though through calm artificial hearts and outside
unnoticed the ghost-blue of juniper needle and berry
and the ghost-rising of smoke from the fires we
claimed we had not set. dear daughter now that we
must use the past-tense for what we thought was ours
now as we move into the possible distance I open
my hand to give you this picture of two wings.

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1y

“Multitudes” is a #haiku from Library on Fire, my 3rd volume of #poetry available at https://www.nihtgengapress.com/product/library-on-fire

#books #indie #poem

Multitudes
I must remember
Within my darkness resides
Multitudes of stars

ALT

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1y

Thae laddies in the Celtic shirts,
a baker’s dozen
lumbering all the way to the summit cairn
the hot last Saturday of May
as larks trilled
and the loch-side braes released their midgies…

—Kathleen Jamie, “Ben Lomond”
published in THE BONNIEST COMPANIE (Picador, 2015)

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/kathleen-jamie/the-bonniest-companie/9781509801718

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry

Ben Lomond
Kathleen Jamie

Thae laddies in the Celtic shirts,
a baker’s dozen
lumbering all the way to the summit cairn
the hot last Saturday of May
as larks trilled
and the loch-side braes released their midgies …

Well, up at the raven-haunted trig-point
(as the sun shone bright o’er the whole lower Clyde)
they unfurled a banner,
and triumphant-sombre, ranked themselves behind it
for the photies,
‘R.I.P.’ it read, then the name of a wee boy

they’ll never meet again. Ach,
would the wean were playing fit-ba
on some bonny banks somewhere …

There’s no accounting for it, is there?
I mean the low road, and the high.

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1y

There are
Ancient
Constellations
In your veins.
All wild things
Know the language
Of burning.

#poetry

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141d

Change, change – that’s what the terns scream
down at their seaward rocks;
ﬂeet clouds and salt kiss –
everything else is provisional,
us and all our works…

—Kathleen Jamie, “Fianuis”
published in SELECTED POEMS (Picador, 2018)

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/kathleen-jamie/selected-poems/9781509882953

#Scottish #literature #EarthDay #poem #poetry #EarthDay2026 #environment #environmentalism

Fianuis
by Kathleen Jamie

Well, friend, we’re here again —
sauntering the last half-mile to the land’s frayed end
to find what’s laid on for us, strewn across the turf —
gull feathers, bleached shells,
a whole bull seal, bone-dry,
knackered from the rut
(we knock on his leathern head, but no one’s home).

Change, change — that’s what the terns scream
down at their seaward rocks;
ﬂeet clouds and salt kiss —
everything else is provisional,
us and all our works.
I guess that’s why we like it here:
listen — a brief lull,
a rock pipit’s seed-small notes.

ALT

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1y

New 3”x 3” stickers available in the shop!The poem is “Become”, one of my favorites from Library on Fire. https://www.nihtgengapress.com/product/become-sticker. Free shipping in the US!

#poetry #books #sticker

WHAT
CHOICE DO I
HAVE IN THE
DEEPEST DARK,
BUT TO BECOME
THE STARS?

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193d

On seeing Iran in the news, I want to say

my grandmother was called Nasreen,
that she died two years ago in Tabriz
and I couldn’t go to say goodbye,
that she knew nothing of power,
nuclear or otherwise…

—Marjorie Lotfi, “On seeing Iran in the news, I want to say”
published in THE WRONG PERSON TO ASK (Bloodaxe, 2024).

D.A. Prince reviews THE WRONG PERSON TO ASK on The Friday Poem:

https://thefridaypoem.substack.com/p/the-friday-poem-on-16th-may-2025

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Iran

Marjorie Lotfi
On seeing Iran in the news, I want to say

my grandmother was called Nasreen,
that she died two years ago in Tabriz
and I couldn’t go to say goodbye,
that she knew nothing of power,
nuclear or otherwise. I want to say
that the bonfires for Chahar Shanbeh Suri
were built by our neighbour’s hands;
as children we were taught to jump over
and not be caught by the flames. I want to say
my cousin Elnaz, the one born after I left,
has a son and two degrees in Chemistry,
and had trouble getting a job. I want to say
that the night we swam towards
the moon hanging over the horizon
of the Caspian Sea, we found ourselves
kneeling on a sandbar we couldn’t see
like a last gift. I want to say
I’m the wrong person to ask.

ALT

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1y

SHIPS: Live Poetry & Music
10 July, An Tobar, Mull – tickets from £8

A live evening of poetry & music with five acclaimed poets: Sharon Black, Leonie Charlton, Julie Antill, Jon Miller, & Cait O’Neill McCullagh.

https://www.antobarandmulltheatre.co.uk/whats-on/ec276n5cy0uxkyu4xc55hrskyopw6r

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Highlands #HighlandsandIslands

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1y

We needed it—and he stood there,
feet on the dry porch, saying rain,
cloud and skyful, the sound of drumming…

—Niall Campbell, “The Rainmaker”
published in POETRY (July/August 2020)
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/153822/the-rainmaker

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #rain

The Rainmaker
by Niall Campbell

We needed it—and he stood there,
feet on the dry porch, saying rain,
cloud and skyful, the sound of drumming;

the bath trough in the garden listened,
white and bone dry, as he described
a bright wash across the dust fields,

the surest downpour, the flushed skin,
my soaked shirt, heavy as a bell.
Then off he went to the scorched fields,

humming, and weighing what we paid.
What did he say: prayer is moisture;
hope is a well—I didn’t care,

I wanted just the words from him—
what I couldn’t dare say—not there
beneath that sun, that blur of fire-sky.

My thoughts all thoughts of water, I
spun my head round—to hear the spill
of the word rain across the boards,

and nothing grew dark, nothing fell—
but something fell, and the ground took,
and something wild as garlic grew.

ALT

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1y

Love rules. Love laughs. Love marches. Love is the wolf that guards the gate.
Love is the food of music, art, poetry. It fills us and fuels us and fires us to create.
Love is terror. Love is sweat. Love is bashed pillow, crumpled sheet, unenviable fate…

—Edwin Morgan, “Love”
A poem for Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️
published in A BOOK OF LIVES (Carcanet, 2011)

https://www.carcanet.co.uk/9781857549188/a-book-of-lives/

#Scottish #literature #EdwinMorgan #poem #poetry #love #lovepoem #loveislove #Pride #PrideMonth #PrideMonth2025

Love
by Edwin Morgan

Love rules. Love laughs. Love marches. Love is the wolf that guards the gate.
Love is the food of music, art, poetry. It fills us and fuels us and fires us to create.
Love is terror. Love is sweat. Love is bashed pillow, crumpled sheet, unenviable fate.
Love is the honour that kills and saves and nothing will ever let that high ambiguity abate.
Love is the crushed ice that tingles and shivers and clinks fidgin-fain for the sugar-drenched absinthe to fall on it and alter its state.
With love you send a probe
So far from the globe
No one can name the shoals the voids the belts the zones the drags the flares it signals all to leave all and to navigate.

ALT

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1y

Tenderness is mandatory.
Careless lurches may draw blood,
enthusiasms leave abrasions,
excessive ardour has been known
to snap off spinal plates…

—“The Mating of Dinosaurs”, by William Oliphant (1920–2004)
published in The Mating of Dinosaurs (Taranis Books, 1992)

Today, 1 June, is Dinosaur Day 🦖

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #dinosaurs #DinosaurDay

The Mating of Dinosaurs
William Oliphant

Tenderness is mandatory.
Careless lurches may draw blood,
enthusiasms leave abrasions,
excessive ardour has been known
to snap off spinal plates.

There is the constant burden of
the force of gravity that pulls
against the need for viable eggs.

The wear and tear on genitalia,
like spoil of grind of glacier, is
lost in some future fossil count.

The adaptationists suggest
that gentleness emerges here,
and some will come to call it love.

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1y

The poems of Arthur Conan Doyle
16 September, online – pay what you can

Although best known for his Sherlock Holmes stories, Arthur Conan Doyle also published several volumes of verse. While his poetry never achieved the same level of acclaim as his fiction, it remains an important part of his literary legacy, & The Live Canon ensemble will perform a selection of his poems

@litstudies

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/the-poems-of-arthur-conan-doyle-tickets-1284197211429

#Scottish #literature #poetry #19thCentury #ConanDoyle

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1y

How Losing a Poetry Competition Launched Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Career

By Nava Atlas

https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/classic-women-authors-poetry/losing-poetry-competition-millay/

Edna St. Vincent Millay at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/70

#books #literature #poetry

Edna St. Vincent Millay portrait (c. 1920)

In the photograph, Edna appears poised and introspective, exuding a quiet confidence. Her hair is cropped short in a stylish bob, reflecting the flapper fashion of the era and her alignment with the progressive spirit of the 1920s.

She wears simple, elegant attire—a dark blouse—with minimal adornment, allowing her expressive eyes and finely sculpted features to command attention.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edna_St._Vincent_Millay#/media/File:Edna_St._Vincent_Millay_Portrait_(c._1920).jpg

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1y

"Remnants", a volume of Haiku and Senryu, available for paperback and e-reader, through:
Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/2dyxuks6
Rakuten Kobo: https://tinyurl.com/3vu3yr86

Amazon Author Home: https://tinyurl.com/fc3njxup

DM me to enquire about signed copies (prices will vary according to location).

#IndieAuthor #SJAshcroftsPoems #poems #poetry #PoetryCommunity #MyWordsMyWork

Paperback cover of "Remnants". Black border top and bottom. Image of a ruined stone wall in sunlight, enclosed by railings in a field. Trees in background. "Remnants" in white letters down the stonework. "Simon J Ashcroft" in black across a blue sky.

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1y

Robert Tannahill (1774–1810), “the weaver poet”, was born #OTD, 3 June – “second only to Robert Burns as a poet writing chiefly in the language of the working class of Scotland”

1/3

https://www.thenational.scot/culture/24360177.celebrating-scotlands-second-greatest-poet-robert-tannahill/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #18thcentury #19thCentury #romanticism #pastoral #workingclass

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1y

it is dawn and my wife is coming to bed
and she has been watching a film about the life of charlie parker

and the air in the bedroom is silent while she undresses
and the light is there at the side of the curtain beyond her head…

—Tom Leonard, “June the Second”, from outside the narrative: poems 1965–2009 (Etruscan Books/Word Power Books 2009)

https://lighthousebookshop.com/book/9780956628336

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

June the Second
Tom Leonard

it is dawn and my wife is coming to bed
and she has been watching a film about the life of charlie parker

and the air in the bedroom is silent while she undresses
and the light is there at the side of the curtain beyond her head

and she tells me his body gave up of drink and drugs when he was 34
and I decide I am awake and go to the kitchen for a drink of water

and the sky in the north is translucent like a lake
translucent like a lake though it is only 3 am

and when I go back we lightly hold hands as we sometimes do
until the first to be falling asleep begins to twitch and tonight it’s Sonya

and I withdraw my hand and lie back looking at the ceiling
I am aged 51 years and nine months and nine to ten days

ALT

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1y

Whether the weather be dreich or fair, my luve,
if guid times greet us, or we hae tae face the worst,
ahint and afore whit will happen tae us:
blind in the present, eyes open to the furore…

—Jackie Kay, “A Lang Promise”
published in BANTAM (Picador, 2017)

A poem for Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jackie-kay/bantam/9781509887927

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #love #lovepoem #Pride #PrideMonth #JackieKay

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1y

In a little rainy mist of white and grey
we sat under an old tree,
drank tea toasts to the powdery mountain…

—Edwin Morgan, “The Picnic”
published in COLLECTED POEMS (Carcanet, 1990)

Today, 21 May, is International Tea Day
https://www.carcanet.co.uk/9781847779656/collected-poems/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #tea #InternationalTeaDay

The Picnic
by Edwin Morgan

In a little rainy mist of white and grey
we sat under an old tree,
drank tea toasts to the powdery mountain,
undrunk got merry, played catch
with the empty flask, on the pine needles
came down to where it rolled stealthily away –
you lay
with one arm in the rain, laughing
shaking only your wet hair
loose against the grass, in that enchanted place
of tea, with curtains of a summer rain
dropped round us, for a rainy day.

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1y

#OTD in 1816.

At the Villa Diodati, Lord Byron reads Fantasmagoriana to Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, Claire Clairmont, and John Polidori, then challenges each to write a ghost story, culminating in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, John Polidori’s story “The Vampyre,” and Byron’s poem “Darkness.”

Fantasmagoriana:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fantasmagoriana

The Vampyre:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6087

Frankenstein:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/84

Darkness:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20158

#books #literature #poetry

(Left to Right):
Mary Shelley: She wears a dark gown with a bare neckline, consistent with early 19th-century fashion.

Her image likely comes from Richard Rothwell’s 1840 posthumous portrait.

John Polidori: The author of The Vampyre (1819), often considered the first modern vampire story. He appears youthful, with curly dark hair and a romantic expression.

Claire Clairmont: The stepsister of Mary Shelley and mother of Lord Byron’s daughter, Allegra. She is depicted with reddish-brown curls and wearing a modest white dress.

Percy Bysshe Shelley: The radical Romantic poet known for Prometheus Unbound and Ode to the West Wind. He is shown with intense eyes and a loosely worn open shirt and dark coat.

Lord Byron: He is shown in a contemplative pose with his hand to his face, wearing a deep red coat—this mirrors Thomas Phillips’s famous portrait of Byron.

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1y

Get a head start by having a first name
that doesn’t really go with your second name.
Your parents were just trying to keep everyone happy…

—Palma McKeown, “How To Be Scots-Italian”
published in TALKING ABOUT LOBSTERS: New Writing Scotland 34 (ASL, 2016)
A poem for Festa della Repubblica 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🇮🇹

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #ScotsItalian #Italy #FestaDellaRepubblica

Get a head start by having a first name
that doesn’t really go with your second name.
Your parents were just trying to keep everyone happy.
Keep a bottle of Lacryma Christi for when
your Auntie Anna calls in unexpectedly.
Hide the jar of instant coffee in case
she comes into the kitchen & dust off
the old metal coffee pot that unscrews in the middle.
Put out that panettone you got at Christmas
then watch as she scoffs all the Tunnock’s Teacakes.
Learn to sidle down side streets or
melt into shop doorways when you see
old Mr D’Ambrosio coming because, despite
the fact he’s lived here for over sixty years,
you still can’t make out a word he’s saying.
Be prepared to serve sausage rolls & salami di Milano
at Hogmanay parties & give equal play time
to Jimmy Shand & Dean Martin.
You’re just trying to keep everyone happy.
Listen politely to your Auntie Carmen from Coatbridge
when she phones at three in the morning to ask
if everything’s okay because she’s had a dream
about you & the number 62
which signifies death & pestilence.
Try unsuccessfully to get back to sleep.
Feel torn when Italy is playing Scotland at football
until the crowd starts to sing ‘Flower of Scotland’
and a wee tear runs down your cheek.
Try not to get bitter that you never knew
your Italian granddad because during the war
he was taken away by two Scottish policemen
in the middle of the night, herded onto a ship
and was lost at sea when it was torpedoed.
Churchill was just trying to keep everyone happy.

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1y

Aonghas Dubh – Ceòl às na Briathran
The poet & writer Aonghas MacNeacail (1942–2022) was born #OTD, 7 June. This programme, originally aired on the BBC, is drawn from “Skerries, Trawlings, Tides” – a literary event celebrating Aonghas’s 80th birthday

1/2

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAb0LdDuaSk

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Gaelic #Gaidhlig

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1y

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize…

“The twa Cats & the Cheese”, by Allan Ramsay (1686–1758)
😾😾🧀🐵

Today, 4 June, is National Cheese Day!

https://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/archive/105690319

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #poem #poetry #18thCentury #cats #cheese #NationalCheeseDay

The Twa Cats and the Cheese
Fable IX
by Allan Ramsay

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize;
Fair Play said ane, Ye bite o’er thick
Thae Teeth of yours gang wonder quick:
Let’s part it, else lang or the Moon
Be chang’d, the Kebuck will be done.

ALT

But wha’s to do’t,—They’re Parties baith,
And ane may do the other Skaith,
Sae with Consent away they trudge,
And laid the Cheese before a Judge,
A Monkey with a campsho Face,
Clerk to a Justice of the Peace,
A Judge he seem’d in Justice skill’d,
When he his Master’s Chair fill’d;
Now Umpire chosen for Division,
Baith sware to stand by his Decision.
Demure he looks.—The Cheese he pales,—
He prives it good,—Ca’s for the Scales,
His Knife whops throw’t,—In twa it fell,
He puts ilk Haff in either Shell;
Said he, We’ll truly weigh the Case,
And strickest Justice shall have Place,
Then lifting up the Scales, he fand
The tane bang up, the ither stand;
Syne out he took the heaviest Haff,
And ate a Knoost o’t quickly aff,
And try’d it syne,—It now prov’d light,
Friend Cats, said he, We’ll do ye right.
Then to the ither Haff he fell,
And laid till’t teughly Tooth and Nail,
Till weigh’d again it lightest prov’d:
The Judge wha this sweet Process lov’d,
Still weigh’d the Case, and still ate on,
Till Clients baith were weary grown,

ALT

And tenting how the Matter went,
Cry’d, Come, come Sir, We’re baith content.
Ye Fools, quoth he, and Justice too
Maun be content as well as you.
Thus grumbled they, thus he went on,
Till baith the Haves were near hand done;
Poor Pousies now the Daffine saw
Of gawn for Nignyes to the Law:
And bill’d the Judge that he wad please
To give them the remaining Cheese:
To which his Worship grave reply’d,
The Dues of Court maun first be paid.
Now Justice pleas’d,—What’s to the Fore
Will but right scrimply clear your Score;
That’s our Decreet,—Gae Hame and Sleep,
And thank us ye’re win aff sae cheap.

ALT

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1y

Hamish Henderson, Burns & Music
21 June, Dundee Central Library – free

Prof Fred Freeman of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland talks about two great songsters & poets, Hamish Henderson & Robert Burns – both of whom redefined Scottish culture & provided a national & international vision of the country

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/hamish-henderson-burns-and-music-tickets-1374121928679

#Scottish #literature #poetry #song #HamishHenderson #RobertBurns #Scots #Scotslanguage #culture #identity #Dundee

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