Journey Home

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Journey Back from St Andrews March 2018.

A fuse, a dud wire or a twist in the guts o the radio?

In the spirit of the machine

Who knows as I kick it back hame.

 

No tunes, no Springsteen or Mellencamp

(Car Radio deid as thon Scotland match in Moldova)

Yet, it dings, it skelps the inside o my skull and soul:

A wee pairt at the clanjamfrie o Stanza in St Andrews.

 

Shots, keepie uppies, penalties, players, managers, World Cups

The losses, the wins, the legends, the joys..things well-manicured pundits cannae destroy.

 

They arrive and twist grey matter an thocht tae cerebral spaghetti

Wi faces like Bremner, an Jordan an Ormond an *Norrie himsel

Nae tae mention a Baxter or Larsson or some ‘fabled’ Dumbarton FC thoroughbred chiels.

 

They tackle and nip and harry my every turn and rumination

Far, far mair than just poet inclination.

 

As the twin baps o the glowering Lomond Hills pit aff Big Tam Forsyth

And Scott Brown gies a dunt to a sleeping Italian defender

I realise that I am ready. Warmed up. Prepared

For a guid second hauf…

 

*Former Captain of Dunfermline Athletic Football Club-Mr Norrie McCathie

Scots: hame-home; dings-rings/echoes; skelps-smacks/hits; mair-more; gies-gives; dunt-a hit/kick etc; guid-good.

Thanks to Mr Jim Mackintosh.

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Nineteen

 

Do not forget the use or withdrawal of power, the extension or contraction of the    

body, the swift or leisurely application of technique.

 

Power

It lies in that space between process and intent

A heartbeat rocket fuelled cellular rake

Or in the steel-strong control of limb or body.

 

It is the power of self and sword,

Technique that is beyond sport.

 

Block with timing, hit with lightning.’*

 

An aphorism that hides the bone-breaking toil to master

What is the hideous complexity of the simplest Oizuki:

A

Simple

Basic

Stepping

Punch.

 

*As suggested by Sensei Dave Hazard pictured above.

January

A piece from Temples fae Creels (Kettionlia) slightly changed.

wave

Oor hoose on Shore Road

Wis aye spuckled in spray

Fae waves that ripped san

Aff protective rock skerries.

 

Reek trails fae the Lothian side

Wid hing aboot Cockenzie

The power station

Opposite Fife’s gowden beach mantle;

Ony windae wis guid.

 

January wis special-waves

Slammin intae the herbour waas

Muckle white flares hingin

Afore rainin doun lik lava:

January ragin.

 

robin

 

The Robin Kata

Often he spins up to be spider-bird

Watching vertically poised above his planet

A metre over me on the wall.

 

Be it Jitte or Jiin or washing perhaps Gis out for drying

The wee chest marks a wound of flight on fence or ground.

 

Like each performance of a Sochin or Empe

Different robins dance or move to a unique internal barometer.

 

Later reflect on the arrogance of the human

That it is nature that watches us, our dance our imperfections.

 

 

 

 

Dreams Die Then..

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In SA, N. Cape with Marcus-our school Principal, a friend and Marcus’ wife. In the fantastic open spaces in NC-loved the horizons.

 

Aw things appear or gang awa

lik the soond o an echo

the clouds in the lift

the muin on the watter

the fire-flaucht, the sea faem,

the trail o a bird as it flees

or the veesion o dwams efter walkin.

Taisen Deshimaru

 

 

Last Passenger

The last person left the Prison bus

Robben Island tour over Mandela’s cell visit ticked off.

 

How history’s stream flows beyond the temporal bones

Of the dead and living or the incontinent camera-laden

 

They leave the bus headed for the ferry

(Nae a wee dart tae Iona let it be said S.T.).

 

I stay and ask the Xhosa speaking Guide

‘Now?..’

Like the rocks Madiba ground down into dust

The dream, it seems, has gone.

The steel in the secular saint’s legacy dissipated.

 

All things are possible and the impostors can gain

Even the highest podium to plunder.

 

And other leaders, other faiths must be lost

Carved, bound then found or the young breathe

‘Betrayed.’

 

A Riverside

Europe has many witch sites, death camps

But outside our Parliament have we this?

A silent sculpture so small it would sliver

The diamond calluses of the narrow hearted.

Where the home-grown Hungarian Nazi’s murdered

Their ain-the Danube still flows, pushes

atween Buda and Pest.

Children, parents flung to their death

Their protection for delicate feet is left.

The grandiosity of Parliament and castle

Whimpers to fit the infant slipper.

Titles Poem

FISH SUPPER

Kelty Woman causes stramash at wedding before

Ainster boy turns fish supper into £10 million pounds in bearer bonds

Glenrothes granny has waiver from Care Home to be MSP for Defence

Cupar Headteacher gets nominated for classical opera’s highest award.

 

A bampot of a Burntisland individual has destroyed the new Forth crossing

A raging Rosyth bairn has eyeballs tattooed with the Dunfermline players’ names

While a flounder the size of Edinburgh is found in Falkland estate pond.

 

Penultimate

The true Stone of Destiny has been found on Tentsmuir beach

Finally

A pensioner from St Andrews has adopted Donald Trump

Trump settles to being a St Andrews caddie.

*Inspired by an actual recent headline from a Fife newspaper; stramash-fight/scene; bampot-fool; bairn-child; MSP-Member of the Scottish Parliament-sadly now with extra Members deluded enough to think Independence is a bad idea.

 

The Rest

CRUYFF          Henry

 

Like a turn of a porpoise in the Moray Firth

A svelte arc of flesh in blue and spent foam

Thierry Henry turned dribbled, led the ball on toes like gold leaf

To set alight the firmament of this Fife soil

The Dunfermline team* left like koi beached from their pool.

 

In the week Johan Cruyff deed, a demi-god taen

A thocht o the Barcelona an Arsenal bullet’s veesit

Pace, pooer an aw the rest o the skills;

Sumtimes the game is less important

The reality of whit cuin be fer the human frame an speerit

Runs an runs ta gang free…

 

*  A pre-season visit to Dunfermline Athletic Football Club by Arsenal.