Wee Davy gave the info regarding this thread

I wrote this in late 1978 at the age of 19. I had a nightmare about being eaten by millions of insects in my bed and when I awoke in the morning I found I had pulled my bed away from the wall although I didn’t remember doing so. This made me remember nightmares I had most nights over a two/three month period when I was only four or five years old about little horrible men who came out of the toilet bowl at night who I called the lavvypan men. They carried swords and spears and were out to kill us. I always awoke at the point where their swords and spears were coming through our living room door where I along with my parents and sister and brother were struggling to keep the door closed. The lyrics are about re- occurring nightmares, Long lost horizons being the past before the disturbing frightening nightmares began and horizons that glow in the morning is hope that the nightmares might end in the not so far away future. In other words your life will be like it was before the nightmares started. I wrote this attempting to write using the style of lyric writing of the front man of Be bop Deluxe

Long lost horizons
You wake up at night whilst the cold winds are howling
Alone in the dark with the worst of your fears
What was that noise that you heard by the window?
Go back to sleep and dry up your tears
Dream nightmares that haunt you from their beginnings
Eating you’re brain till you’re mad in the head
Dream of the shadows that chase you forever
Dream of a life in the land of the dead

Long lost horizons that glow in the morning sun
With blue seas so deep yet so plain
Where strange empty cloudless skies
You see through you’re dreaming eyes
Show signs that tomorrow might rain [/i

Hold out your hands and you’ll catch the rain falling
Then drop to your knees and pray for the sun
And hope that tomorrow the nightmares have ended
Then think of tonight for they’ve only begun
Don’t try to hide as you know that they’ll find you
And don’t try to run for you’ll never get far
Sooner or later they’ll come without warning
Destroying your mind you won’t know who you are

Right Forum, jamcat - jist nae need for a new topic (there's wan already done fer Poems).
Enjoyed that - keep going!
Admin (Martin) might move this one for you, into the poems one.

davy

This was written in late 1979 when I went back up to work in a little village about 25 miles from Dundee. I had been in a relationship with a girl for about 4 months and decided to take a job I had done there 18 months previous. She told me that we would be finished but I took the job. But as I couldn’t get one here in Glasgow i took it but came back to Glasgow every weekend to be with her. After about 6 weeks I could tell that she was going to ditch me and I realised that I had taken her for granted and that I really wanted to keep her so I quit the job on the grounds that I would rather be unemployed than lose her. I returned to Glasgow and remember all the things I thought while up in that tiny lonely little hamlet and I wrote this along with some others as a reminder to myself that the job would be the end of a good relationship. This is basically about the things in life that get you trapped and the feeling that you can do nothing about them.

When we live with our backs to the wall
Take what you’ve got, get out while you can
Remember it’s not yet too late
You maybe feel down, but things could be worse
You might find that she will not wait
And when you’re alone with you’re thoughts to yourself
Thinking of things from your past
You will know that tomorrow will be like today
For you’ll find that your futures been cast

Life’s like a dream, sometimes good sometimes bad
And sometimes it’s nothing at all
Sometimes we’re happy but mostly we’re sad
When we live with our backs to the wall

There’s only yourself to blame for your faults
And nothing can change what’s been done
You might laugh and say that you lived life in jest
And everything was meant in fun
But who’s laughing now for I know it’s not you
Your laughter has long died away
You’re on your last chance so you better take care
Or you might feel much worse than today

Life goes too fast, we are gone before long
We go without knowing it all
Sometimes we’re right but mostly we’re wrong
When we live with our backs to the wall

When I worked at that sawmill in that tiny village I phoned my girlfriend as often as I could. There was no public phone or shop or anything (A mobile shop came 2 days a week) and I couldn’t phone her during the day as she was at her work. We did write to each other a couple of times a week and I would phone her when I was in Forfar in the occasional evening. The week before I quit the job I got a letter from her telling me that she loved me but was not prepared to carry on the way we were. I phoned her when I got her letter and told her that I had given a week’s notice and that I would be back for good the following week. And so saved our relationship for another 3 and a half years and wrote this the day I received that letter from her about October 1979. I sort of looked on my time in that place as one very long day and Tomorrow was meant not as the next day but the following week when I could go home for good.

When it comes tomorrow
You’re in my every dream and in my every thought
And I can’t live without you, you’re all that I’ve got
Now you say you’re leaving, don’t you know that you’ll break my heart?
When it comes tomorrow we’ll be far apart
I gave you all my love; I gave you all I had
Now you really hurt me, it makes me feel so sad
Don’t you know I love you much more than any words can say?
When it comes tomorrow you’ll be far away

You know how much I love you, but you just couldn’t care
How I’m going to feel when you’re no longer there
I feel like you’ve just killed me, it so sad it’s a crying shame
When it comes tomorrow things won’t be the same
I just can’t believe that you’d do this to me
But it is the truth and it’s so plain to see
I can’t bear to lose you, I need you much more than you could know
When it comes tomorrow I’ll hate to see you go

Sometimes.
by TeeHee of Hee.

Sometimes we feel, as we wander through life,
That we're dealt some incredible blows
Sometimes the wounds go as deep as a knife
And bring tears; like a butt on the nose
Sometimes we feel we could chuck it, like trash
Put an end to it; short, sharp and sweet
Sometimes it changes as quick as a flash
When some lass sweeps us right off our feet

Sometimes we think that we've waited for this
All our lives, this moment of dreams
Sometimes when we're sure that it's all now pure bliss
Till it rips once again at the seams
Sometimes we ask ourselves when will it finish?
When will it come to an end?
Sometimes we wonder if the search will diminish
And one day we'll find that true friend

Sometimes we sit down and consider at length
All the troubles, the heartache and pain
Sometimes we hope that we just have the strength
to go through the same thing once again
Sometimes we feel that it's all way too absurd
Too crazy, all that hurtin'; and feelin' blue
Sometimes, just like that, we meet a new burd
Then it's, See y' guys. Toodle-oo

This was another example I wrote in the little cottage that I shared with 3 other guys (We all had a small room each) in that dead little village. I wrote this a couple of days before I went home with the intention of asking my girlfriend if she would marry me and doing whatever she asked of me no matter what. I wrote this to the tune of the Beatles song yesterday.

My loves like a dream
I love you, can’t you understand the words I say
If we try again we’ll find a way
We’ll find a way that can’t go wrong
How can I, tell you what you really mean to me
If you are so blind that you can’t see
I hope you see before too long

Will you ever know what I mean?
I hope you do
My loves like a dream
Every day I dream of you

Can’t you see, that these words I say to you are true
If you don’t there’s nothing I can do
To show you just how much I care
Don’t you know, love is more than just a simple game
And if I lose you things won’t be the same
Won’t be the same as what they were

This was about my attitude towards my life in the spring of 1978 when I was out of work for almost 4 months and no matter how many jobs I applied for I couldn’t get one. The Springburn jobcentre was a joke I called it the jobby centre because all the jobs there were Turkish Delight. Fu** they even had a vacancy for a yodeller in a hotel in the far north of Scotland. I hadn’t yodelled for a while so I didn’t apply but thankfully I got a job with the parks dept. that kept me in work for 6 months. This thing is just about how I saw my ambitions from primary school when I had high ones like I wanted to be a pilot or train driver or something. When I was halfway through secondary school I was prepared to take any kind of job and when I left school it took me 3 months to get a job as a van boy. My ambitions by this time were almost non-existent.

My life’s ambition
Dreams, I had when I was young
That someday I’d be someone
More than I am today
Lies, I filled my head with lies
Of a life up in the skies
Where things would be okay

Maybe one day if not tomorrow
I’ll be happy and shed my sorrow
I’d be happy in my position
If I had captured my life’s ambition

Dreams that slowly linger on
One day they will be gone
And things won’t be the same
Why, do I persist that I
Should live my life so high
And reach stardom and fame

Maybe one day when I am older
I’ll look back, over my shoulder
And live my life in true tradition
No longer chasing my life’s ambition

Dreams, of what I planned to do
That never quite came true
I watched them fade and die
Now, my dreams are going nowhere
And I don’t really care
Without them I’ll get by

Maybe one day I’ll have forgotten
The dreams I had that never caught on
And I’ll be free from the condition
Of trying to live my life’s ambition

Thinkin' about Burdz
by Sir Tee of HeeHee

She came in to my life; stage right?
(Or was it left?)
And while I pondered
She went ...
Just packed her tent.

In pensive mood considered her theft
(She had purloined my heart)
I thought it over
once again ...
soaked under rain.

I'll give it more consideration
(I never did before)
Weigh things up
hedge my bet ...
instead of gettin' wet.

The moral of my story
(A moral must exist)
Is this ; I think
See burdz ...
Action not wurdz.

I wrote this back in 1978. I remember an old mate of mine’s brother dying (At 17 or 18) and he was devastated. It was clear to see how upset he was and it made me think of how many people, (if any) would feel that way about my demise. The thing is that when most people die they are mourned for sometimes weeks or even months but except for a few cases the mourning won’t last for years. In reality after the first year most of us are almost a thing of the past, but that’s life (No pun intended). This is a morbid thing I know but that is its intension


In loving memory
Today we live for, but tomorrow we may die
We live our lives as best we can but it must end we can’t deny
We are not immortal; we are just flesh and blood and bone
And the time will one day come for us when we are on our own
Beneath the flowers and the grass that grows so free
Entombed in total darkness to remain for eternity
In darkness decomposing we never see the light
Tightly wrapped inside our shroud we’re buried out of sight
From our relatives and friends to whom our love we gave
And we don’t see them standing above our fresh dug grave

In loving memory of our dear departed son
Are the words upon your headstone that are read by everyone
Who place their flowers beside your sanctuary
They shed their tears for you; they’re your friends and family

One day we are the living, the next day we’re the dead
Then they bury us inside our grave and a prayer or two is said
But we don’t hear the sermon; we don’t see or hear a sound
We’re safely locked in our dark world deep beneath the ground
And in the coming future will we still be in their mind
Or will they have forgotten us and left us far behind
Just like we never did exist, as if we where never there
No more than a statistic in a world that couldn’t care
No one lives forever, of that we can’t deny
No, no one lives forever for we are all born to die

To Dee or Not to Dee
Graf TeeHee von Hee

My death came unexpected
As with most of us I'm sure
I'd stooped to pick a shilling from the ground
As I was resurected
I saw my body in the stoor
The falling chimney hadn't made a sound

The Wreckers Ball had hit the wall
Of the old house I was in
Lookin for something of value I might find
I turned toward the hall
Concentrating on the din
When my life force left me, pulling down the blind

That's how it was, the papers said,
Of my sudden end which came
Fate reached my young life for to take
So any time it's in your head
To do the very same
Check that the wrecker is still taking his break.

I wrote this in 1978 about a girl I once dated two years previous. In September 1976 I was seeing a girl I met who was visiting her sister across the road from me. I was seventeen, almost eighteen and she was sixteen almost seventeen. I only went out with her for three weeks as her face was covered in acne and I was getting a bit of stick from my mates but to be truthful if it hadn’t been for the acne she would have been quite attractive. I remember we were walking along the street when a heavy shower of rain started. I told her she had better take some shelter before she got puddles in her face and I immediately regretted saying that. After I broke off our relationship I was being hounded by her for a couple of weeks. I would come home sometimes to be told by my mother that a girl named Sheila (I sometimes referred to her as a dog as one of my neighbours had an Alsatian dog with that name) was asking for me. The writing of this portrays her (wrongly I ashamedly confess) to being ugly. Sometime in 1981/82 I saw her in the then new Springburn shopping centre with her two children and she looked really nice with the acne almost gone. She never noticed me. I was told around this time that she was married. I would hate for her to ever know that I wrote this untrue thing about her as to be honest I think she was really a much better person than me and I hope things worked out for her.


The bride of Frankenstein
I’ve told you this before
You’re a real disgrace
You always wear cheap makeup
On your ugly face
You think it makes you younger
But you can’t face the truth
While everyone gets older
Your still searching for your youth
You’re almost seventeen
But you look like thirty two
When will you realise
I wouldn’t be seen dead with you

You’re like the bride of Frankenstein
You’re a real horror, if you know what I mean
The ugliest thing that I have ever seen
Just like the bride of Franenstein

Every time I see you
I turn my face and hide
Hoping you don’t see me
And come up by my side
To tell me that you love me
And will I take you back
If I had to answer yes
I’d have a heart attack
Why can’t you just leave me?
And get on with your life
For I don’t want to know you
Let alone make you my wife

Tae see Yir Sel' ...
by Mee or Thee

Torrential rain had washed away
the dust which paved the summer's path
and brought a freshness to the day
as I watched cow and calf
in field of luscious green

Pitched female voices broke the still
young and free of care
their laughter gay and somewhat shrill
carried through clear air
so fresh and newly clean

I choose my steps and wandered o'er
beyond a copse of trees
to where I heard those voices soar
and went down on my knees
in hope I'd not be seen

For there below the little rise
where stood that ring of woods
frollicking with sparkling eyes
I saw three playful nudes
wet bodies all in sheen

A pond had formed upon the ground
left there by the rain
I wallowed in that joyful sound
I'd never hear again
save only in my dream

They splashed around, those girls so free,
dancing rings-a-round
I thought they'd never notice me
lying on the ground
in hiding and unseen

Till of a sudden one called out
they saw me all the while
and bade me join, not turn about
she blessed me with a smile
and I so keen

Pulling shoes off, socks and pants,
I stumbling hopping ran
then stopped amid their dulcet chants
They sang "At last - a man - a man ...
... and he has goat cross-een"

I wrote this in 1978 and I was inspired by the state of the British nation as a whole (a matter that still exists) in the fact that we have been led by consecutive governments who have shown their inability to do things right which has led to us losing world leads in many things. During PM Callaghan’s time much of this became evident i.e. borrowing 3 billion pounds from the IMF to try and re-inflate the economy, which failed (He actually wanted 5 billion) The part nationalisation of British Leyland in 1975 and giving British Steel a million pounds a day to keep it in business when it was obvious there was no hope for it. At this time 1 in 10 people were unemployed and inflation was still quite high at an unacceptable 8.3%. On top of these problems we at the time had another government that as usual told more lies than tongue could tell.


I don’t want to live in nineteen seventy eight

This country’s in a hole that gets deeper day by day
It’s not the publics fault as they don’t get a say
They just throw in money for the government to spend
They spend it all on shit, there just seems to be no end
And the promises they make that never quite come true
Heath, Wilson, Callaghan to name you just a few
They each said they’d do better but their lies you can see through
You have to question what they say, as mostly it’s untrue

I don’t want to live in nineteen seventy eight
No, I don’t want to live in this broken down state
I just want to live in a Britain that’s great
And I don’t want a government that doesn’t have a clue
I’d rather be an anarchist who has no point of view

The nationalised industries aren’t doing very well
British Leyland’s making cars that they’re struggling to sell
And British Steels a write off that costs a million pounds a day
Why can’t they just admit that it will never pay its way?
Our economies doing badly and inflations gone sky high
And the FTSE Index shows we’re far from high and dry
It appears we’re almost bankrupt; were in the red not black
We’ve just borrowed from the IMF, but can we pay it back

Unemployment’s so much higher than it’s ever been before
The dole queues stretch for miles from the desk right out the door
Just sign upon the dotted line and your giro’s in the post
That’s alright for some people, but it’s not alright for most
We only want a future and a better chance in life
A job with some security, free from trouble and from strife
But our industries are closing and are quickly swept away
And it’s not the publics fault as they don’t get a say

Not For Mee
By Wee TeeHee


Politics is not my field
My cup of tea
My thing
I have no social axe to weild
Don't care to see
How voters swing

It doesn't set my heart to race
Nor does it light my fire
To hear them promise
With straight face
Liar against Liar
(And people rushing to the booth
To mark their crossed selection
And change the hardships of their youth
In every new election)

You work your fingers to the bone
As ever through the ages
Strugglin' to keep house and home
As you give them half your wages
While fillin' up the liars troughs
So they can eat their fill
A bunch of no good lying toffs
Who feed the folk with swill

We watch them in their suits of blue
White shirts and ties of red
A vote for me is a vote for you
(And more feathers in my bed)

Go to your pollin' station
Elect your brand new boss
To qualify stagnation

I couldn't give a toss

TeeHeeHee' , why do I get the feeling that you have set yourself into some kind of competition with me.I hope not as I am not the competitive type. and if i do compete in anything I want to know why and what I am competing for. looking at your profile I see you have made 3,790 posts that is just over ten per day on average. No offence mate but that makes you seem a more boring person than I am.

Actually it's closer to 7,400 posts ... so I'm more boring than you think
I'm not competing as you may think but rather jumpin' on your wagon to try, poetically, to show another side to the coin.
We had a very long run poetry thread here where many members added to a single poem for the fun of it and I kind of miss that.
Post #2 (here) reminded you of an existing Peom Topic too.
But if you want to keep this as your own very exclusive topic then help yourself.

Blow your own horn
On the morrow I'm gorn.

BTW: Just for the record ... they were all spontanious replies.

Have no fear
No longer here

Ah've read merr than a few "poems" on the various messageboards ah've been on, and ah've even contributed wan or two masel. In most instances, it's like watchin somebody else's home movies.

too bad Tomi, I thought your verses had brighten'd up a rather dull thread,

Jamcat,

Personally poetry is not my "bag" but ,if you want to come on here with your verse , I have no problem with that and I hope others enjoy it.

I must however say that it seems to me that you are a VERY competitive person, if you object to others doing likewise and broadcasting their poems. I do not see any art form as a competition.

I'm not ad-verse to it either

I can Click to view attachmentClick to view attachment whats going on here!

I sent teeheehee a PM and appologised for the way my quote appeared. He is satisfied and I was more than pleased with what he said in return. This was merely me reading things in the wrong way and as always when I am wrong or make a mistake I own up. In fact i am so truthful I am considering changing my name by deed pole to Des Honest

Me and Jamcat have had a right ol' natter by PM and we've sorted out our wee misunderstanding in the most amicable way to the extent that we've laid the groundwork of what might just prove to be a nice wee friendship.
Anyway, you know me Angel; I would have kept on posting.

The good auld days

The good auld days
As my old man says
Where the happiest days of his life
That’s when he met ma maw
Whose dad is my grandpa
And he made ma mammy his wife

The good auld days
As ma mammy says
Where the worst times that she ever knew
There were fleas on your chums
And TB, rickets and slums
As well as poverty too

The good auld days
As my grandpa says
Where the times during World War One
He wasn’t too bright
But he signed up to fight
And got wounded in action

The good auld days
As my granny says
Where the times during World War Two
When my dad was a lad
And my mum looked not bad
Compared to how she looks noo

Bang Bang Yer Deed
by Sir Thee the Hee

As a poor wee lad
I was terribly sad
That my rifle was made out of wood
But when them days were ower
I had one with air power
But that really wisnae much good

Too wee were the spugies
The Stuckies and doos
Too wee were the pellets
For knockin' doon coos

When I was a poor man
In defence o' my land
My 303 felt nice and warm
Tucked intae my cheek
That sweet cordite reek
As I fired at the oncoming Swarm

Too many the men
Who rushed toward me
Too mighty the tanks
No thanks
Too deep the mire
Too many piled higher
And me only too wee
Way too wee.

I wish that I could write in Rhyme
but it does give me a really hard time

I did read what you had to say
and both amusing
in your own special way...

And the prize goes to the wan in the red dress! lol

Well done you folks.

davy

A curry and a drink

Last night I got drunk when I went to the pub
And on my way home I fancied some grub
So I bought me a curry that burnt like a fire
Tearing my throat like a length of barbed wire
The trouble with curry is it doesn’t like the booze
So they fought in my stomach to evict who would lose

I stood at the bus stop trying hard not to spew
As the two of them wrestled I felt that I knew
That when you have a curry, it’s not bought, it’s just for rent
And when booze is involved it’s not money well spent
Five pints and two large whiskies and a large size Vindaloo
Aren’t the best of buddies, so they beat each other black and blue

I only had the curry in my stomach half an hour
When I hade to talk to Huey and the taste, it was so sour
The curry and the booze where both lying on the street
And bits of this gruesome twosome were sticking to my feet
I made my self a promise that when I drink again
There won’t be any curry, thank God,amen

Triangulation Of Thought.
By Hee who is Tee

A wee whisky is no help at all, nor counting patterns on my bedroom wall
A walk in fresh air before going bed is no guarantee to clear my head
The thought keeps returning my brain keeps right on a-churning
It's no use watching the telly Nor lying flat out on my belly
Nor smoking a spliff that won't make any great diff
As the single thought turns over and then over
It's driving me mad, it's really quite sad
Bags under both eyes feeling sore
Books spread over the floor
Coffee cup lies spilt
Over the quilt
As I ask
WHO
AM
I.





(shame I had to edit out the first three or four lines ... they past in "Preview" but were too long in the post.)

Triangulation Of Thought. (directors cut )
By Hee who is Tee

With due thought and consideration I mull over again a thing that worries me now and then
It keeps me awake more times than enough: sleepless nights and all that kind of stuff
It wont let me go, repeatedly nags, gives me headaches as I reach for my fags
A wee whisky is no help at all, nor counting patterns on my bedroom wall
A walk in fresh air before going bed is no guarantee to clear my head
The thought keeps returning my brain keeps right on a-churning
It's no use watching the telly Nor lying flat out on my belly
Nor smoking a spliff that won't make any great diff
As the single thought turns over and then over
It's driving me mad, it's really quite sad
Bags under both eyes feeling sore
Books spread over the floor
Coffee cup lies spilt
Over the quilt
As I ask
WHO
AM
I.

Pretty neat Tomi well done.

The provi man

Ma maw hates the Provi man who visits us each week
He takes money that she can’t afford; she says he’s a bloody freak
She got a ten quid cheque to buy clothes for me to wear when I went back to school
And pays four pound interest which makes her feel a blinking fool
But last night someone mugged him and took all of his cash
I don’t know who the bugger was, not me? I’m not so rash
No one likes the Provi men because of what they are
The modern day highwaymen that push you out too far
Ambiguous unscrupulous low-life’s that cause you hell
If you use the Provi cheques then you’re a fool as well
A Provi cheques like dynamite, it’ll blow your mind away
As soon as you discover the interest that you’ll pay
That’s why no one likes the Provi men ringing their doorbell
But I’ve got ninety quid in cash, where I got it I can’t tell

give it time Jamcat,I"m sure you will remember

by the way,nice wee stories guys

The triangle was annoyin'.
On the Preview I kept cuttin' an' changin' till it looked as good a triangle as I could get then posted it and went, "Oh dear, that was rather unfortunate."
(Condensed into a single syllable word )

You should have seen the prototype

I posted this quite recently somewhere else on the GGB site.

The Late Train spotter
I stood and waited in the rain
And hoped to see a passing train
Not really caring what class it be
A black five or a Jubilee
A diesel blowing its two tone horn
Or a Pannier Tank the worst for worn
Yes I stood and waited in the rain
But it seems my waiting was in vain
For the last train passed by long ago
But I stood there and did not know
Until a passer-by came up and said
No trains will come, this railway’s dead
The last one ran in sixty-eight
And even that was running late
So I thanked him and went on my way
And cursed I stood there yesterday.

I hate Santa

I don’t like Santa Clause, because he let me doon
When I asked him for a train set at his grotto in the toon
He promised me a Hornby wan complete with a track mat
But on Christmas day I found he’d left a toy car and a Cowboy hat
Now Santa’s not my buddy, no he is no friend of mine
He’s nothing but an idiot who’s a total waste of time
I didn’t want a car or hat you twat, I asked you for a train
And I wanted to be Casey Jones, but I didn’t want to be John Wayne
So Santa I won’t visit you or write to you again
Just you keep away from me as you’re driving me insane
And don’t come down my chimney with your guns and Corgi cars
You can take all of your presents and shove them up your ****

Twas Grimble in the Black Forest
A wee cabin all covered in snow
A family sleeping serenly at rest
By a warming fireside all aglow

A shuffling sound from the rooftop
A dull thump and a murmered Ach, piss!
A softly muffled wee clip-clop
As Rudolph says Give it a miss

But Santa knows it's his duty
To bring pressies to all; not just some
We'll shovel some snow down, my beauty
To save me from bürning mein büm

Jist too much
I met a burd fae Lapland
Her name was Carol Snow
Her faither looked like Santa
And his boozers nose did glow
I took her hame tae ma hoose
Too meet my ma and da
An’ ah don’t think they quite liked her
Coz she didnae wear a bra
She wore a tiny tee shirt
That was only a size eight
But she weighed twenty stone
Yes, she was a little over weight
The frontage that she had
Drooped down below her waist
And when we sat doon tae dinner
We all kind of lost our taste
As her pair of sagging mountains
Lay drooping doon her knees
I knew I had to dump her
Coz she’d be too hard to please
So when I walked her to the bus stop
I told her a great big lie
I was emigrating tomorrow
And I kissed her goodbye

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The West Highland Run

Out of Queen Street Station and straight up Cowlairs bank
Pulled by a type 2 diesel and pushed by an N.B. Tank
Exiting the tunnel and still it’s a hard climb
But the 8-15 to fort William will make it there on time
At the top of the incline we leave the Tank behind
And drift through Cowlairs station with no doubt in my mind
That we’ll be in Fort William and still have time to spare
For I won’t waste a moment until the train gets there
But then at Possilpark junction my heart is filled with dread
For I just can’t believe it, but the signals gone to red
Five minutes we sit waiting, for a freight to clear the line
Then the signal goes to green but we’re way behind our time
Quickly on to Craigendoran with an extra burst of speed
Hoping there’s no signal checks that I will have to heed
When we get to Tyndrum station the train for Glasgow’s here
Waiting for the token that shows the single line is clear
Up through Bridge of Orchy then onto Rannoch Moor
But arriving late or early I really am not sure
And when at last we get there I’m wallowing in pride
Four minutes before schedule, that was really quite a ride.

When I gave up my Job in Airlie (Near Kirrriemuir) I returned to Glasgow around October 1979 and my girlfriend and I planned our engagement that took place in July 1981. She and her parents soon moved out to Glasgow and not long after that our relationship started to come apart. This was down to me not being able to get a job (Although I was employed for about 6 months in 1982 with the parks Dept.) and her parents were against me. Needless to say we started to drift apart and in 1983 we were finished. In 1985 I visited her sister who lived beside her and asked her if she could ask her sister (my ex) if she would agree to meet me. Her sister told me that she was making plans to go and live in London (she was always a bit of a dreamer). An arrangement was made to meet in the local pub the coming Saturday. Even though I knew we would not get back together I still hoped that we would. I tried to tell her that it was down to her parents and that if she had come up to stay with me when I was working in Airlie I could have got her job in Kirriemuir and we could have got our own house. I wanted her to know how sorry I was and that she had been less than kind towards me in our last few months together. A couple of days later I wrote this and sent it to her. I received it back with letter a couple of days after I sent it saying that it meant nothing to her (she lied) and saying that she never even liked me anymore.

I was wrong and so were you
But I admit it, can you too?
Or do you just put all the blame on me?
And tell yourself you were so right
That I just couldn’t see the light
And that’s the way that things would always be

So now you’re off to London town
To find the life you never found
In all the time that you were here with me
But before you pack you’re bags and go
Here’s something I’d like you to know
You were just as wrong but failed to see

Now what am I supposed to do
For I won’t sit here and cry for you
And tell myself it’s me that got it wrong
When you were just as much to blame
But played it all like some strange game
And made the rules up as you went along

Keep it up Jamcat

Hi Jamcat I loved the train ride.

The bogie man

There was a bogie man in ma bedroom, who came there every night
He said boo tae me and I got scared and my pants turned brown from white
His name he said was Freddie and somebody killed him deed
And he wanted to get the bas**ad back that stuck a hatchet in his heed
They didn’t want his money, all they wanted wiz his wife
And the easiest way to do that was to take away his life
I said that I would help him if he would leave me alone
So I telephone the coppers from a public telephone
I told them of the murder of poor big Freddie Jones
And the place that could find him, well at least could find his bones.
I told the police the murderers were his wife and her lover, Billy Green
That Freddie wouldn’t get divorced coz he loved his wife, Christine
But Christine wanted Billy, so they made a fatal plan
To rub out poor old Freddie so Billy could be Christine’s man
The police dug up poor Freddie who had been missing for a year
And Christine and Billy got life; sometime the price of love is dear
Big Freddie came and thanked me and said he could now rest in peace
Now that he had gotten his revenge using me to phone the police.

A Day In Dundee

Pulling out the station, and pushing up the track
With Blue Peter at the front and me right at the back
Moving slowly forwards, towards the river Tay
90 miles from Dundee city, where I’m going for the day
As we go past St. Rollox steam shed we start to gather speed
And soon we’re doing 60, that’s all the speed we’ll need
We then pass Robroyston station then Cumbernauld with haste
And our first stop is at Stirling but but we’ve little time to waste
Two minutes after stopping we are quickly on our way
And head off into Perthshire towards the city on the Tay
The next stop is Perth central where there is a train from Aberdeen
Pulled by the A4 pacific Bittern, adorned in apple green
An hour and a half from Glasgow and 20 miles from Dundee
We head up into Tayside and the end of my journey
Finally it’s Tay bridge station, the last stop on the line
The journey was a pleasure and the pleasure was all mine.

My Girlfriend

My girlfriend is real beautiful
When you compare her to a pig
She’s got false teeth and thick glasses
And is bald and wears a wig
Her face is full of acne
And her breath smells quite unique
She’s got everything that I don’t want
My God, she isn’t half a freak
She has a face that’s full of wrinkles
And a voice like a dogs bark
There was a greyhound that once fancied her
When it seen her in the park

No, my girlfriend is an ugly thing
She’s as ugly as can be
I only love her cos I’ve got to
As if I didn’t, she’d murder me
She’s got a real bad temper
That she’ll vent on anyone
She’ll stick her fangs into their neck
And eat them like a bun
She isn’t very brainy
But she’s really very strong
Yes she’s really very ugly
And she looks just like King Kong

Your poems are great Jamcat, but maybe ye should huv used "My Ex-Girlfriend" or "My Ex-Wife" in title cos if yer nearest 'n dearest reads this yer ass is surely parsley