Omand Original Odes

Overlords R Us

2013-03-08T06:33:00.000-08:00

I'm Number 2 at world domination.
We've got an old volcano as a Lair.
I even bought the cat, but I had forgotten that
I was allergic to the white fur everywhere.

I set about the Lair's fortification,
Installing shields for high security.
But it got me rather tense when the new electric fence
Blocked the signal to my master's PS3.

We're ready now for any conflagration,
Equipped with cutting edge technology -
Including a death ray which I've found out, by the way,
Is great for toasting buttered crumpets for our tea.

So all that's left to sort is transportation
For me and Ginger, Great Lord of the Dark.
We tried to nick the Tardis, but the thing I'm finding hard is
That there's really nowhere close enough to park.

And now you've seen our plans for domination
There's really only two things left to say
Which is "Prepare to Die!" and "Muah Ha Ha, my friends - Goodbye!"
(once I've cleaned the crumbs of crumpet from the ray).

with thanks to my Twitter buddy @Ant1990 aka Ginger, Lord of the Dark for the inspiration.

Sit Me on a Sand Dune

2013-02-16T15:54:00.001-08:00

Sit me on a sand dune, looking out over the sea.
Sit me in a forest, 'neath a sunshine dappled tree.
Sit me somewhere where my mind can wander and be free
And I'll be happy.

Stand me on a mountain as the sun begins to rise.
Stand me in the moorland where the lonely eagle flies.
Stand me where the beauty of the world can fill my eyes
And I'll be happy.

Lie me in a cornfield looking up at skies of blue.
Lie me in the park among the early morning dew.
Lie me anywhere, as long as I am there with you
And I'll be happy.

Sunty McClaus - A Doric Christmas Poem

2012-12-24T03:01:00.001-08:00

Here's Sunty McClaus o' the clan McClaus!
D'ye ken him? Weel, I hear
He's a cousin o’ thon Christmas loon
Fa's sleigh is pu'd by deer.

He's got a pal called Frosty Jock -
a mannie made o’ snaw.
Wi the kilt on and a tammy
he's lookin awffy braw!

Thigither they hae loads o’ fun
and get in trouble deep,
But they aye come oot the ither side
on their sledgie pu'd by sheep!

Ae Christmas Eve the phone rang.
Sunty’s cousin “You Know Who”
was near dane his deliveries
fan he'd cam’ doon wi’ flu.

"He needs a haun" said Sunty,
"he's left our bit tae last..
But oor sheep ar’nae magic
And the sledgie isnae fast!"

"But even though" said Frosty Jock
"We’ll hae tae help yer freen.
Get him to drap the presents aff
somewye in Aiberdeen.”

So aff they went wi’ sledge and sheep
tae pick up a’ the gifts.
They trauchled through the snaw and ice
for it wis noo blin’ drift.

Then roon’ and roon’ the hooses
Sped the little crew
Dishin’ oot the parcels
Til they were left wi’ two.

A tin o’ funcy biscuits
And a baggie fu' of neeps
Were treats for Jock and Sunty
And the hungry little sheeps.

There also wis a notie
"Keep these gifts for yourselves!
With thanks for all your help tonight,
from Santa and his Elves."

So that is how Sunty McClaus
(wi’ help fae Jock and sheep)
Saved Christmas for the local bairns
Fan they were a’ asleep.

The Christmas Robin

2012-12-11T08:29:00.000-08:00

‘Twas cold the night of first Noel. The fire was barely going
As Mary asked her stable mates to keep the embers glowing.
The ox and ass were both asleep and did not hear her plea
But someone did. A little bird came fluttering down to see.
He flapped his wings and fanned the flames ‘til fire was burning bright,

No matter though his chest got burned hot scarlet in his flight.
For helping warm the Jesus child that bird by God was blessed,
And that is how the robin got the red upon his breast.

Off the R-Ode

2012-10-25T06:38:00.000-07:00

I like to make up poems

while I walk to the shops.

I measure metre step by step,

but must allow for stops....

...to navigate through traffic

or else my cheery ode

will end up more a tragedy

if I'm squished in the road!

Arachnophobia

2012-10-22T08:26:00.000-07:00

'Arry's an arachnid -

“spider” to you and me.

He has eight legs, lives in a web

and catches flies for tea.

Some people don't like 'Arry.

They think he's very scary

with eyes and fangs and long long legs

That really are quite hairy!

When they find 'Arry in the bath

or in the sink, quite smug,

They quickly turn the tap on

and wash him down the plug!

But 'Arry's really harmless.

I promise you it's true

That when you scream at 'Arry

He's more afraid of you!

So next time you meet 'Arry

Don't screech and flap about -

just scoop him up into a jar

and gently put him out.

Fife Book Fest

2012-10-03T00:25:00.001-07:00

This poem of mine was in the top twelve shortlist for the Fife Bookfest poetry prize. No prize for me this time, but a great fun evening at the prize giving with lots of good feedback and a chance to meet friends old and new.

For this poem, you have to imagine that I am about five and curious about EVERYTHING!

Questions, Questions...

Why are the flowers red, Mummy?
Why is the sea so blue?
What makes the grass grow green, Mummy?
I don't know, do you?

What can we have for tea, Mummy?
Why is it ALWAYS stew?
Can't we buy fish and chips, Mummy?
I don't know, do you?

Why is the TV broke, Mummy?
Why does the rent say "DUE"?
Why won't you buy me toys, Mummy?
I don't know, do you?

Why are we all alone, Mummy?
Why isn't Dad here too?
Will he be coming home, Mummy?
I don't know, do you?

Autumn Morning Haiku

2012-09-27T00:42:00.002-07:00

Gold leaves are falling

And frosted fronds are etched on

sleeping cars' windscreens.

The Downfall of Dixie McAlpine

2012-09-14T09:51:00.000-07:00

This poem was the result of an extraordinary conversation on a windswept St Andrews beach - to understand it fully I guess you had to be there....

A hard man called Dexter McAlpine

(a self-styled hood from Dundee)

Was reading The Scotsman one morning

When a photo made him spill his tea.

The headline read “Journalist Missing!”

And the face in the picture below

Was someone that he had “done work” for

In St Andrews not 3 days before.

As he read further into the story

“Our Dixie” (as Dexter was known)

Let facts in his head come together

and he let out an audible groan.

Dixie knew that the man had been digging

up dirt on a gangland “event”.

He'd written up all of his findings

and a package to Dixie was sent.

He'd wanted the stuff to be hidden.

The instructions to Dixie were plain.

“Put it somewhere that no-one will find it

But where you can get it again.”

So Dixie had taken the package

And hidden it well, so he'd thought,

In St Andrews bus station's left luggage,

in a locker that someone else bought.

But here this mad journo was missing

And the main thing that worried Dix now

Was that gang members kidnapped the pressman

And would link him to Dixie somehow.

In panic he tried to think clearly.

The evidence he must get back

And dispose of it properly this time,

before the gang followed his track.

An early trip up to St Andrews

With no one around, plotted he,

Then gather up all the damned paper

And dump it this time in the sea.

So next morning off went Our Dixie.

The evidence bag was retrieved

And carried down hill past the golf course,

where into the sea it was heaved.

Dixie stood at the wall of the seafront

Watching papers float off on the tide

Then, trying to act nonchalantly

He walked to the beach, where he spied

Two men at the top of a sand dune,

A heavy load weighing them down.

They threw the sack off the high sand dune

Then headed off back up the town.

Our Dixie stood frozen in horror,

Mind racing with what it could mean.

Two men. Empty beach. Missing pressman.

Heavy sack. Breakfast time. Murder scene?

What to do? Where to go? Had they seen him?

Were they looking for him? Did they know?

Dixie ran from the beach in a panic -

What to do? How to act? Where to go?

Dixie boarded the bus at the station

And headed back home in a state

Where he packed all his clothes in a holdall

Then left the house by the back gate.

No one know what became of “our Dixie”

But the headlines the next morning read

That a journalist who had been missing

Had been found on a beach. He was dead.

Reflections

2012-07-05T03:29:00.000-07:00

(Written on hearing that a family friend, who has terminal cancer, had met my mother down the street and asked how I was getting on and what I was doing with my life.)

If I die today, would I go happy to the great beyond?

Or do I wish that I had done more, seen more?

Heard and read more? Listened? Said more?

Seized the day?

If I die today, would I leave a memory behind?

Or just be what's-her-name? Her from down the street - you know?

Who was she? Artist? Lover?

Just a friend?

If I die today, would I have made a mark upon the world?

Or walked a well worn path of safety? Quiet and unresponsive?

Careful not to rock the boat?

Passed on by?

If I die today, would I have lived?

Cat-astrophe!

2012-06-19T07:16:00.000-07:00

Hissing!  Spitting! Hackles rising,
What's the cause? It's not surprising...
My territory has been invaded!

Now my food is getting raided
by the cat from down the road,
who hasn't read the feline code:-

Subsection 4 (paragraph B),
which says this house belongs to me!


Time to set the sirens wailing
because it seems defence is failing....
The enemy has strong resistance.
I need to call for some assistance!


Behold! The cavalry, big and mighty -
It is my owner, in her nightie, 
muttering that "it's ten to eight!"
Does this mean that it's too late?


But soon the enemy is routed!
A well-aimed floor cloth saw him clouted
and forced him back across the border,
Thus restoring calm and order...


However, it will take some time
to flatten down this fur of mine.

Summer Haiku

2012-05-25T23:50:00.002-07:00

Long white vapour trails

Draw intricate patterns on

Skies of cloudless blue.

Spring Fever

2012-03-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

The spring has sprung! Hayfever hits

With streaming nose and sneezing fits.

As neighbours cut their grass, so green,

I find the anti-histamine

And dealing with a gardening issue

Just has me reaching for a tissue.

So you can keep your springing pollen -

I'll wait til autumn leaves have fallen!

Dawn Chorus

2012-02-23T23:09:00.000-08:00

Beautiful birdsong fills the dawn sky

with whistles and twitters and cheeps.

It heralds the coming of spring but, oh my,

Just NOT while I'm trying to sleep!

Snowdrops

2012-02-02T08:35:00.000-08:00

The ground is white, the air is chilled,
The trees are bare, all nature stilled -
There are no signs of life at all
As New Year sits in Winter's thrall.
Then all at once a change is seen
As tiny sparks of lively green
push bravely through the frosted earth
and snowdrops herald Spring's rebirth.

With Apologies to Mr Burns

2012-01-24T07:34:00.000-08:00

Wee sleekit, loupin' scuttlin' moosie

Fit are ye deein' in my hoosie?

Rinnin' up and doon the flair,

Ahint the table, 'neath the stair.

Foo did ye get in come tae that?

Or were ye ta'en in by the cat?

There's ae thing sure though. There's nae doobt,

Ma wee moose pal, ye're gaun back oot!

So jist ye bide and dinnae move

Until I get the box and glove

(For I've been bitten ance afore

Tryin' tae get mice oot the door.)

I chased ye roon and roon the place

Til I am purple in the face

An' sweering like a Glesga scaffie

Because ye ran intae ma baffies!

But noo I hae ye in the box

And ta'en ye ootside (in ma socks!)

I'll say “fare weel, wee sleekit moose

And bide awa' fae oor big puss!”

Diet-ribe

2012-01-11T15:07:00.000-08:00

"It's a FOOD REVOLUTION!" "You REALLY MUST TRY IT!"

This "ALL-NEW" "Celebrity" (high-price tag) Diet.

"Just drink this concoction for two meals a day

and those unwanted inches will soon melt away!"

NO! Hang on. I don't WANT a chemical shake.

I'll keep all my curves, thanks. Now - where was that cake?

Watchnight

2011-12-23T00:22:00.000-08:00

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a poetry filled New Year

Winter comes with icy fingers touching toes of carol singers
As they sing of Christmas time, out among the frosty rime.

Angel voices, midnight choirs, echo from the snowy spires
as stars glint brightly in the east, shining on St Stephen's feast.

Warm beside a roaring fire, thoughts turn to a lowly byre
Where a child lay in a manger, born to save the world from danger.

Christmas Kitchen

2011-12-18T08:51:00.000-08:00

The whole house smells of chocolate

As I do my Christmas bakes -

There’s brownies and a Yule log

And lots of fairy cakes!

As no-one much likes mincemeat,

There’s apple in the pies,

With cinnamon in the pastry

For a festive spiced surprise.

The cider is now mulling.

I think I’ll need a cup

Before I clean the kitchen

And do the washing up!

London Memories

2011-12-03T10:24:00.000-08:00

Two Scottish lasses with "champagne"

in plastic glasses on the train.

Cocktails mixed in plastic flasks.

Buttons fixed. (No, please don't ask).

Unions on strike. Undergound hops.

Too much to like in jewellery shops.

Christmas lights. Busy streets.

Woolly tights. Aching feet.

French bakery. Croques madames.

Brand fakery. Too many prams.

Trying on hats. Rain pouring down.

Waving at cats in Chinatown.

The V & A. Grayson Perry.

An art filled day – Eclectic? Very!

Theatre stages. Foil squares

from “Rock of Ages” in our hair.

Sleeping with the window open

(Heating in the room is broken).

This is how I will remember

Our trip to London in December.

One of Those Days

2011-11-23T08:03:00.000-08:00

You drop the milk jug on the cat

And sit upon your favourite hat.
Today you're feeling very fat -
One of those days!

Last night's cabbage blocks the sink
and fills the kitchen with a stink.
At times like this you need a drink -
One of those days!

Your biro broke and now your dress
Is covered in an inky mess,
Just adding to the daily stress -
One of those days!

But when life’s at its most unfair,
You’ll find that someone’s always there
With words of love to show they care -
All of those days!

Growing Up

2011-11-12T07:22:00.000-08:00

A bath full of bubbles,

A pretty pink dress.

A life free of troubles -

She couldn't care less.

A glass full of bubbles

To help with the stress.

A vodka - a double -

A life in a mess.

So where did I lose her,

That angel in pink?

She's no longer with me -

She drowned in my drink.

I don't have time!

2011-10-25T06:02:00.000-07:00

Before I go I'll feed the cat -

There's nothing too tough about that...

Until I see my plan he's scuppered

by having mice for last night's supper.

I don't have time!

A wash to sort and then the dishes.

I fill the sink. Part of me wishes

that, in among the shirts and socks,

I could just throw the dirty crocks.

I don't have time!

The bed's not made, I've still to hoover.

Could I just hire a remover

to take my furniture away

and give me floorspace for a day?

I don't have time!

Finally time to start the car -

just into town, not very far.

A cough, a splutter, then it dies.

I've now to phone the breakdown guys!

I don't have time!

The cat, the car, the wash, the cleaning,

the problems that keep intervening

all help to set my daily mood.

“Chill out”? “Relax”? I wish I could but

I don't have time!

After Effects

2011-10-21T00:49:00.000-07:00

My head is really thumping and my mouth feels full of sand.

My stomach's doing flip-flops while my legs will hardly stand.

The radio's too noisy, the telly is too bright -

This is the morning after a "successful" party night!

Handy Hints for Artists - No 1

2011-10-19T08:05:00.000-07:00

If your blood pressure boils when you're painting in oils

and you cover the carpet in purple,

Know that water won't do to lighten the hue

but maybe a wee drop of turp'll!