Eggplant.place

56d

"The Hollow Woman" - my sonnet about white supremacy in Oz. I pasted my poem onto a pic I made with the free AI at the Australian Nightcafe. Call it poetic license. #poetry #auspol #AIart

THE HOLLOW WOMAN

Primitive primate Pulini
Projects her white supremacy
Putridly, opportunistically
Repulsive in her raging greed
Dogwhistling to ignorant fools
Who lie and steal and hate
To avoid an inglorious fate
Longs to become a vaunted martyr
Hoisted above the ghoulish horde
So again I curse and turn away
Does it ever cross her twisted mind
To set a example for her mob
Practise what she screeches
And sail back across the seas
Take her meanness with her
Leave us here in peace

ALT

Edited 56d ago

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83d

Edwin Morgan died #OnThisDay, 19 August, 2010. “Riddle”, the final poem of Morgan’s final collection, 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 (Mariscat, 2010), is a translation of one of the 10th-century Anglo-Saxon Exeter Book riddles, itself a translation of a Latin original by the poet Aldhelm (c639–709 CE)

#Scottish #literature #EdwinMorgan #poem #poetry #translation #riddle #AngloSaxon #medieval

Riddle
by Edwin Morgan

Up beyond the universe and back
Down to the tiniest chigger in the finger –
I outstrip the moon in brightness,
I outrun midsummer suns.
I embrace the seas and other waters,
I am fresh and green as the fields I form.
I walk under hell, I flow over the heavens.
I am the land, I am the ocean.
I claim this honour, I claim its worth.
I am what I claim. What is my name?

ALT

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87d

heavy #poetry

Edited 87d ago

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80d

Tom Leonard
“Jist ti Let Yi No”
(from the American of Carlos Williams)

ahv drank
thi speshlz
that wurrin
thi frij

n thit
yiwurr probbli
hodn back
furthi pahrti

awright
they wur great
thaht stroang
thaht cawld

Audio on Penn Sound:

https://media.sas.upenn.edu/pennsound/authors/Leonard/Tom-Leonard_Jist-ti-Let-Yi-No.mp3

#Scottish #literature #language #Glasgow #Glaswegian #poem #poetry #TomLeonard #WilliamCarlosWilliams

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87d

I need to see the rewritten version of this poem 😂

@reading @bookstodon @books @humor @humor@lemmy.world @aiop @joinin

#ReadingMemes #Meme #Poetry #Humor #Humour #Funny #Geek
#Reading #Readers #ReadingCommunity #AmReading
#Novel #Books #Fiction #Bookstodon

A drawn picture of Edgar Allen Poe and his Raven.
Caption: The Passive Agressive Raven
Speech bubble from the Raven saying, 'Nevermind.'

ALT

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80d

efturryd geenuz iz speel
iboot whut wuz right
nwhut wuz rang
boot this nthat
nthi nix thing
a sayzti the bloke
nwhut izzit yi caw
yir joab jimmy…

—Tom Leonard, “liason coordinator”
from GHOSTIE MEN (Galloping Dog Press, 1980)

Tom Leonard (1944–2018) was born #OTD, 22 August

https://www.tomleonard.co.uk/online-poetry-and-prose/liasoncoordinator.html

#Scottish #literature #language #Glasgow #Glaswegian #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

efturryd geenuz iz speel
iboot whut wuz right
nwhut wuz rang
boot this nthat
nthi nix thing

a sayzti the bloke
nwhut izzit yi caw
yir joab jimmy

am a liason co-ordinator
hi sayz oh good ah sayz
a liason co-ordinator

jist whut this erria needs
whut way aw thi unimploymint
inaw thi bevvyin
nthi boayz runnin amock
nthi hoossyz fawnty bits
nthi wummin n tranquilisers
it last thiv sent uz
a liason co-ordinator

sumdy wia digree
in fuck knows whut
get peyd fur no known
whut thi fuck ti day way it

ALT

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80d

this is thi
six a clock
news thi
man said n
thi reason
a talk wia
BBC accent
iz coz yi
widny wahnt
mi ti talk
aboot thi
trooth wia
voice lik
wanna yoo
scruff. if
a toktaboot
thi trooth
lik wanna yoo
scruff yi
widny thingk
it wuz troo.
jist wanna yoo
scruff tokn…

—Tom Leonard, “The Six O’Clock News”

#Scottish #literature #language #Glasgow #Glaswegian #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

The Six O’Clock News
Tom Leonard

this is thi
six a clock
news thi
man said n
thi reason
a talk wia
BBC accent
iz coz yi
widny wahnt
mi ti talk
aboot thi
trooth wia
voice lik
wanna yoo
scruff. if
a toktaboot
thi trooth
lik wanna yoo
scruff yi
widny thingk
it wuz troo.
jist wanna yoo
scruff tokn.
thirza right
way ti spell
ana right way
to tok it. this
is me tokn yir
right way a
spellin. this
is ma trooth.
yooz doant no
thi trooth
yirsellz cawz
yi canny talk
right. this is
the six a clock
nyooz. belt up.

ALT

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80d

And their judges spoke with one dialect,
but the condemned spoke with many voices.

And the prisons were full of many voices,
but never the dialect of the judges.

And the judges said:
“No-one is above the Law.”

—Tom Leonard, “And the judges said”
from Situations Theoretical & Contemporary (1986)

#Scottish #literature #language #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

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80d

I like seeing nurse frieda knitting
as I like watching my wife knitting
as I liked watching my mother knitting
though she was more of a dabber
(plain and purl, plain and purl)…

—Tom Leonard, “in hospital”
published in access to the silence: poems and posters 1984–2000 (etruscan, 2004)

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/hospital/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

in hospital
Tom Leonard

I like seeing nurse frieda knitting
as I like watching my wife knitting
as I liked watching my mother knitting
though she was more of a dabber
(plain and purl, plain and purl)

it’s not
“women being in their place”
or knitting the chains that keep them down

just

the future, knitting the future
the present peaceful, quiet
as if

the same woman knitting
for a thousand years

ALT

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80d

yi mist yirsell so yi did
we aw skiptwirr ferz njumptaffit thi lights
YIZIR AW PINE THEY FERZ THIMORRA
o it wizza scream
thaht big shite wiz dayniz nut…

—Tom Leonard, “A Scream”
from Six Glasgow Poems (1967)

https://www.tomleonard.co.uk/online-poetry-and-prose.html

#Scottish #literature #language #Glasgow #Glaswegian #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

A Scream
Tom Leonard

yi mist yirsell so yi did
we aw skiptwirr ferz njumptaffit thi lights
YIZIR AW PINE THEY FERZ THIMORRA
o it wizza scream
thaht big shite wiz dayniz nut

tellnyi jean
we wirraw shoutn backit im
rrose shoutit shi widny puhllit furra penshin
o yi shooda seeniz face
hi didny no wherrty look

thing iz tay
thirz nay skool thimorra
thi daft kunt wullny even getiz bluddy ferz

ALT

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80d

right inuff
ma language is disgraceful
ma maw tellt mi
ma teacher tellt mi
thi doactir tellt mi
thi priest tellt mi…

—Tom Leonard, “right inuff”
published in GHOSTIE MEN (Galloping Dog Press, 1980)

#Scottish #literature #language #Glasgow #Glaswegian #poem #poetry #TomLeonard

“right enuff”
by Tom Leonard

right inuff
ma language is disgraceful
ma maw tellt mi
ma teacher tellt mi
thi doactir tellt mi
thi priest tellt mi

ma boss tellt mi
ma landlady in carrington street tellt mi
thi lassie ah tried tay get aff way in 1969 tellt mi
sum wee smout thit thoat ah hudny read chomsky tellt mi
a calvinist communist thit thoat ah wuz revisionist tellt mi
po-faced literati grimly kerryin thi burden a thi past tellt mi
po-faced literati grimly kerryin thi burden a thi future tellt mi
ma wife tellt mi jist-tay-get-inty-this-poem tellt mi
ma wainz came hame fray school an tellt mi
jist aboot ivry book ah oapnd tellt mi
even thi introduction tay thi Scottish National Dictionary tellt mi

ach well
all livin language is sacred
fuck the lohta thim.

ALT

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79d

I visit the places
It hurts,
But no longer feel
Obligated to stay.

#poetry

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54d

17 September is National Fox Day! 🦊

Ian Hamilton Finlay
FOX

see me
wan time
ah wis a fox
an wis ah sleekit! ah
gaed slinkin
heh
an snappin
yeh
the blokes
aa sayed ah wis a GREAT fox
aw nae kiddin
ah wis pretty good
had a whole damn wood
in them days
hen

Published in GLASGOW BEASTS, AN A BURD, HAW, AN INSEKS, AN, AW, A FUSH, with papercuts by John Picking & Pete McGinn (Wild Flounder Press, 1961)

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #fox #foxes #NationalFoxDay #Scots #Scotslanguage

A page from a book, printed in a reddish-brown ink. The top left contains a stylised papercut picture of a slightly scrawny, scraggly-looking fox. Beneath it is the text of the poem, “Fox’, by Ian Hamilton Finlay, published in GLASGOW BEASTS, AN A BURD, HAW, AN INSEKS, AN, AW, A FUSH, with papercuts by John Picking & Pete McGinn (The Wild Flounder Press, 1961):

see me
wan time
ah wis a fox
an wis ah sleekit! ah
gaed slinkin
heh
an snappin
yeh
the blokes
aa sayed ah wis a GREAT fox
aw nae kiddin
ah wis pretty good
had a whole damn wood
in them days
hen

ALT

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78d

From the calm and stillness of a Scottish morning,
as life becomes uncertain and strange
we send you a waking breath…

—“Our Waking Breath: A Poem-letter from Scotland to Ukraine”, curated by Kathleen Jamie in 2022

Today, 24 August, is the Independence Day of Ukraine
🇺🇦🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StrAumuwZj8

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Ukraine #IndependenceDayofUkraine

watch?v=StrAumuwZj8

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78d

Rated Tongues Untied 10/10

Edited 78d ago

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54d

“every living language evolves… Gaelic deserves the same freedom. If we want young people to choose Gaelic rather than simply inherit it, they must be allowed to leave their fingerprints upon it”

—Ceitidh Campbell discusses what makes a language truly alive

https://www.scotsman.com/arts-and-culture/books/ceitidh-campbell-on-the-future-of-gaelic-poetry-languages-are-not-rescued-by-nostalgia-9011118

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #poetry #language #minoritylanguages

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77d

Grief is
The most
Honest love
Letter we could
Ever write.

#poetry

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77d

Oidhche nam Bàrd – Poetry in Art & Sound
10 September, Tramway, Glasgow – £20/£12

A landmark celebration of over 1000 years of Gaelic poetry, weaving together Gaelic voices of the past & the words of our greatest living poets, presented through live performance, music, & visual projection. Welcoming Gaelic speakers & non-Gaelic speakers alike, all poems read will be accompanied by on-screen English translations.

https://www.glasgowlife.org.uk/event/1/oidhche-nam-brd-poetry-in-art-and-sound

#Scottish #literature #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #poetry #Glasgow

oidhche-nam-brd-poetry-in-art-and-sound

Edited 77d ago

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51d

A soup so thick you could shake its hand
And stroll with it before dinner.

The face rising to its surface,
A rayfish waiting to be stroked,

Is the pustular, eat-me face of a crofter,
Turnipocephalic, white-haired…

—Robert Crawford, “Scotch Broth”
published in MASCULINITY (Cape, 1996)

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/361990/masculinity-by-robert-crawford/9781446476512

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #soup #ScotchBroth

Robert Crawford
Scotch Broth

A soup so thick you could shake its hand
And stroll with it before dinner.

The face rising to its surface,
A rayfish waiting to be stroked,

Is the pustular, eat-me face of a crofter,
Turnipocephalic, white-haired.

Accepting all comers, it’s still our nation’s
Flagsoup, sip-soup; sip, sip, sip

At this other scotch made with mutton
That intoxicates only

With peas and potatoes, chewy uists of meat.
All races breathe over our bowl,

Inhaling Inverness and Rutherglen,
Waiting for a big, teuchtery face

To compose itself from carrots and barley
Rising up towards the spoon.

ALT

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20d

There they are, widows of the professoriate
Tied to their frail routines, but not unfree
Wheeling their shopping zimmers on Market Street;
And octogenarian still-cycling emeriti
Cautious of cobbles and slow-moving cars
Hunting for elusive parking spaces –
Physicists, medics, classicists, astronomers…

—Douglas Dunn, “Progress”
published in SECOND WIND (Saltire Society, 2015)

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/progress/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry

Progress
Douglas Dunn

There they are, widows of the professoriate
Tied to their frail routines, but not unfree
Wheeling their shopping zimmers on Market Street;
And octogenarian still-cycling emeriti
Cautious of cobbles and slow-moving cars
Hunting for elusive parking spaces –
Physicists, medics, classicists, astronomers.
Gladly I yield to their seniority,
Their ancient tweeds, their wrinkled faces.
I would like to be a venerable sage,
And might be yet, if I can reach that age,
Nodding off over a Loeb in the Library
Half-way through a forgotten declension,
Defeated, yet again, by Livy’s prose.
But I gave up my bike ten years ago,
Terrified of traffic on the A91 –
And that was on the pavement. I suppose
That so-called ‘progress’ overtakes us all –
Superfast fibre, electronic bravado.
Where will it end? That’s what I want to know.
It’s years since I saw an icicle.

ALT

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51d

“I found more than 30 anonymous poems. So many of them immediately struck me as being by women, about female themes, & written in a female voice. And I certainly wasn’t expecting to find lesbian love poetry”

—Ashley Douglas explores Marie Matland’s 16th-century Scottish sapphic verse

https://thecoldmagazine.co.uk/theatre-literature/meet-the-scottish-lesbian-poet/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #loevepoetry #manuscript #16thcentury #renaissance #earlymodern #queerliterature #queerpoetry #sapphic #lesbian #LGBTQ

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53d

The bell that tolls my syllables can tell
An underwater tale, clang how there fell
Suddenly out of a surface shouting world
Into dumb calm doomed children…

—George Sutherland Fraser (1915–1980), “S.S. City of Benares”

On 18 September, 1940, at one minute past midnight, the SS CITY OF BENARES was torpedoed in the Atlantic. Of 134 passengers, 90 were child refugees bound for Canada. Only 13 children survived.

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #WarPoetry #WW2 #refugees

George Sutherland Fraser
S.S. City of Benares
(Drowned refugee children, 1940)

The bell that tolls my syllables can tell
An underwater tale, clang how there fell
Suddenly out of a surface shouting world
Into dumb calm doomed children, and there curled
(Currents’ sick fingers whispering at their hair)
Round them a coiling clutch, was our despair.
Sea’s soft sad pressure, like the sprawl of love,
Darkly spreadeagled, so they could not move,
The wide wet mouth was heavy, they would choke,
Till in that cold confusion pity spoke:
“This is a nightmare and one is asleep.
This is a dream, my brave one, do not weep,
Often may drown in dreams and not be dead:
Such weight is mother leaning on your bed.”

But having thought of this to cheat my pain,
That woe and wonder harrows me again,
Fat clouds seem bulked like whales, while through the green
Grave tons of twilight, in a submarine
Solidity of air like sea I move,
Pressure of horror how our hate hurts love.
Deeper than grief can plummet, mercy lies,
But not so deep as trust in children’s eyes,
Justice is high in heaven, but more high
Blood of the innocent shall smear the sky—
Or think that red the flame of seraph wings,
See stained-glass heaven, where each darling sings
In God’s dark luminous world of green and gold
As lovely as death’s waters, but less cold:
Think what you will, but like the crisping leaf
In whipped October, crack your thoughts to grief.
In the drenched valley, whimpering and cold,
The small ghosts flicker, whisper, unconsoled.

ALT

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52d

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;..."
Opening lines

#OTD in 1819.

After walking along the River Itchen in Hampshire, England, the 24-year-old poet John Keats composed what would become one of the most beloved fall poems in the English language: the aptly titled “To Autumn.” via @lithub

To Autumn is available at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/23684/pg23684-images.html#Page_137

#books #literature #poetry

Posthumous portrait by William Hilton, c. 1822.

Keats rests his chin on his hand, gazing thoughtfully into the distance, with an open book before him.

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75d

Call for Applications: Crossing Tongues Poetry Residency

Edinburgh UNESCO City of Literature invites a Scottish poet writing in English, Scots &/or Scottish Gaelic to undertake a 7-day residency in Nigeria, alongside the Hausa International Book & Arts Festival, December 2026

Applications open until 30 September

https://cityofliterature.com/opportunities/call-for-applications-crossing-tongues-poetry-residency/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Nigeria #Scots #Scotslanguage #Gaidhlig #Gaelic #residency