Tag Archives: Poetry

My Application for Scots Makar

10 Feb
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Liz Lochhead, departing Scots Makar.

Mony a mickle maks a makar;

The Scots Makar,

nae messin’,

nae bother.

All A need is

paper, pencil, pen,

tae handwrit

mon idle thoughts.

 

They’ll be

expertly etched, like;

words floatin’, naw,

fair dancin’ over

lined paper;

a mute ceilidh, kinda, waiting

to be

published in thon books

for thon reader,

 

who can

peruse my words,

as lang as they

gie me mony.

 

Am a struggling

airtist,

wi’ student loans

wi’ looming bills,

and

thon hungry bairn

 

 

A need a joab

You need a Makar.

Mak a Makar oot eh me,

and I’ll

Mak ye prud.

 

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