Day five

And I still haven’t written todays poem for NaPoWriMo – but I’ve had a busy day, and there are a couple of hours to make it happen.  Yesterday, I didn’t write anything all that meaty, although I did manage to copy out my Midder’s poem for Mothering Sunday, and read it to her on her last night in the big G before the boat home tonight. I also twaiked(?) and began a very visual (concretey) piece which inexorably focussed on a car axle and drive transmission.


A haphazardly productive’s evening turns into night

I’m ecstatic to report, however, that damagnifyingless is the proud presenter of it’s first guest post.  Reider O’Doom, Ayrshire man, thinker, faither an man ae the hale warld sent me a poem today.  In it, I get all the urgency, passion and sheer determination that have inspired my own writings on the independent future of Scotland.  We are proud to present – 

Ower wee.
Aye, thir’s only five million o’ us.
Disnae soon’ lik mony tae me.
Ower pair.
‘I maist eil in Europe.
Bit it micht only last seeventy year.
Ower stipit.
We cannae even talk richt.
Bools in yer mooth’s whit ye need.
It maks me greet
an’ it maks me scunnert.
Ye believe thir shite.
an’ thi’ve goat ye wannert.
Get aff yer arse
an’ believe in yersel.
Get aff yer arse
an’ dae it yersel.
Let go o’ yer mither’s peeny
an’ let go o’ yer mither’s tit.
Git yer tail fae atween yer legs
an’ staun oan yir twa hin’maist.
An’ ony man thit says ye cannae,
pu’ yersel tae yer fu’ hicht
an’ luk ‘um in ‘i ee
an tell ‘um,
Aye, Ah can!
Fir Ah’m no
ower wee,
ower pair,
or ower stipit.
© Reider O’Doom 2013
And finally, my notifications notify me this blog has been going on for a year now.  Pretty mind  blowing.  It has brought me joy and frustration, hope and despair.  It is a mouthpiece I am excited to call my own, and its readers’.  Until the next time.

About damagnifyingless

I live in Glasgow, and express myself through poetry, film, photography and my blog at
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