Category: Shortform

Katharine Macfarlane’s lyrical poetry is rooted in the history and landscape of Scotland. Katharine has recently performed with Flint & Pitch and Sonnet Youth and hosted her first solo show, Home Words, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2016. Her work has appeared in Untitled, The Grind and The Ogilvie and has been translated into German as a feature piece in the novel Die Rückkehr der Wale by Isabel Morland. 

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St. Andrews

I held on to relics;
An arm turned to bone by my heart,
Pearls at my throat
The virtue of St Margaret
And scallop shells, pressed to each palm:
Imprint stronger than divination
Replacing head, heart, life, fate.

Yet, when I see you on the road
I think that maybe
You have always been in my heart,
Even before it was beating.

The weight of the ancestors is at your back,
Their breath warm on my cheek.
I lay down arms
And smiles pour from my eyes.

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Katharine can be reached via her Facebook page, Home Words. More of her poems are accessible here.

Jen Hughes is a writer from Ayrshire, Scotland. She has been writing from an early age, but began to write more poetry in her late teens. She’s been published in various online magazines, such as the Oletangy Review, the McStorytellers, Paragraph Planet and Pulp Metal Magazine. After taking two years to gain valuable work and life experience, Jen is preparing to study English Literature and Film & TV Studies at Glasgow University this year.

Tae A Fermer is a parody to Robert Burns’ poem Tae A Mouse, and is told from the perspective of the mouse whose house was struck down.

 

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Tae A Fermer

 

Great, lumberin’ stupit eejit,
Almost killed me an’ the missus
Course a’d start awa sae hasty
Don’t think that a forgot
That all ye thought of were yer tatties
Carrots an’ shallots.

Ye rammed ma hoose doon wae yer tractor
Sae don’t gee me that righteous patter
O’ mice an’ men suffrin’ life together
Best laid schemes
Gang aft agley especially fur the
Dunderheids!

Am a hell blessed compared to thee
This Christmas a’m gonnae freeze!
The missus is less than pleased
She’d just redecorated
Forward though a cannae see
She’ll have me mollicated!

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If you liked this poem, you can find Jen’s up-to- date portfolio of poetry and short fiction on dearoctopuswriting.wordpress.com, follow her on Twitter, give her a like on Facebook, or follow her Tumblr blog.

Nigel Best has been writing poetry for over four decades. His poetry has been greatly influenced by life experiences, as well as by his love of language. He has read at several Scottish book festivals and enjoys experimenting with different styles and subject matters.

 

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House.

 

a wonderful house
with trees and yes flowers in the garden
the driveway lined with poplars
twelve-tonal doorbell
a fitted carpet lying unfitted
and dejected
dust climbing the stairs
cobweb wallpaper in every corner
slow motion pictures reaching for the floor
striving for hidden foundations
bare brick
unwilling wood
the doors are hinge-stuck
the ungrateful owner took away the roof
the postman delivers silence
and you sit in the kitchen
playing the atmosphere
a wonderful
mighty house

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Nigel can be reached via email.

James Machell is an Edinburgh-based science fiction writer who dabbles in romantic poetry. Aside from numerous SF publications, he has performed one of his poems for the inaugural edition of Underpass magazine and has had poetry published by Concrete.

 

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For Kristiina

 

1
Kristiina, Kristiina,
Hardly is your name spoken
Without regret,
For if only to have met you sooner,
Would have spared
My mortal ribs
From breaking as they hold you now.

2
I, like some old age peasant,
Am made delirious by the sun,
And nursed by her second face,
Will hold the hand of Kristiina,
Forever, in my second place.

3
I burn at the memory of your hand,
Which from first touch,
Measured larger than mine,
And your eyes in bed,
Sprawl, marking my dreams
Like the fly, mercifully crushed
Against my open page.

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James can be contacted via his Twitter, @JamesRJMachell.

Linda M Crate is a Pennsylvanian native whose poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She’s authored three chapbooks (A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn, Less Than A Man, and If Tomorrow Never Comes) as well as four fantasy novels (Blood & Magic, Dragons & Magic, Centaurs & Magic, and Corvids & Magic). Her newest novel, Phoenix Tears, is forthcoming.

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Moody Coconut Girl

 

I forgot that,
Because I’m a woman
With doe eyes,
I’m supposed to be an innocent,
Fragile thing,
Ready to fall open before any man,
Like a flower,
Without talking back
Or answering with a quip
Or fantasizing about breaking
His jaw.
But I’m not the girl society wants me to be.
I’m rough around the edges,
Can be as savage as I’m beautiful.
I don’t really care what you think—
If you don’t like me then you can leave;
There’s no law saying that you must be in my life.
I’m an acquired taste,
Coconut
For the refined palette.
My songs are my own and they are mine,
Because I won’t be a slave
To anyone.

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Linda can be contacted via Twitter.

Katharine Macfarlane’s lyrical poetry is rooted in the history and landscape of the west of Scotland. She is currently the Harpies, Fechters and Quines Slam Champion and the Four Cities Slam Champion 2016. Katharine has recently performed with the Loud Poets in Glasgow and at the Belladrum Festival in Inverness, and hosted her first solo show, Home Words, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Her work has appeared in Untitled, The Grind, and The Write Angle.

Govan was the main religious centre for the Kingdom of Strathclyde. As part of his attempt to create a cohesive ‘Scottish’ identity for his kingdom, David I established a new religious centre and burgh with trading rites at Glasgow. Glasgow very quickly grew to overshadow the previous centre of Govan. The Old Parish Church in Govan still houses the remains of glorious early medieval stone sculptures that provide a glimpse of the importance of Govan in its ‘glory days’.

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From Govan

 

Younger sister, I see you sitting there.
Fair and prosperous,
With your pick of men
And fine attire.
Your painted face held aloft
Seeking kisses from the world.

I cannot help but think
Of the days when men flocked to my side.
And what have I to show for it now?
A collection of stones,
Not precious gems from all the world
But hogbacks and broken crosses.

Beware the tales you tell sister
For those stories become your truth.
And one day they may have no need of your bell or your fish or your tree.

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Katharine can be reached via her Facebook page, Home Words. More of her work can be found here.

Louise Peterkin is a poet who lives and works in Edinburgh. Her work has featured in publications such as New Writing Scotland, The Dark Horse, and The North. In 2016 she received a New Writers Award for Poetry from the Scottish Book Trust.

Louise once read a description of the actress Charlotte Rampling which referred to her as “snakey” and wanted to try combining the archetype of the film femme fatale with ideas of anthropomorphism and metamorphosis.

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Snake

 

No one suspected I could be so snakey.
By the time they found his body
it was too late,
all the police could do was hang yellow tape
where the door had been. I was long gone.
My skin like hosiery on the floor.

I nudged to the east with panache.
But like the stones that studded my path,
the bones that had revised my digestion
to a kind of archaeology, there were clues:
sodden shirts twisting
round my arm like a bracelet,
the spiced tomb of the laundry basket.

How lithe I am now I have wriggled free!
I hiss like Peter Lorre. A small bird
fizzes like seltzer inside me.
Who’dve thought I could be so snakey?
His face was all inky with poison.
Like a sewing machine,
I had punctured him in a great many places.

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You can reach Louise via email, louise.peterkin@ed.ac.uk. More of her work can be found here.

Louise Peterkin is a poet who lives and works in Edinburgh. Her work has featured in publications such as New Writing Scotland, The Dark Horse, and The North. In 2016 she received a New Writers Award for Poetry from the Scottish Book Trust.

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Pranzo

 

Arugala! Ar-u-gala! The chef’s hot charges
blare like a klaxon: His mania is theatre here,
the kitchen on view–de rigueur–
and each pale lackey’s misdemeanour is the addition
of brandy to the pan. Applause from the tables for his shouts,
the flame’s mauve hissy fit. No escaping it,

he’s what the tourists are paying for; some local colour.
The workplace is a bachelor’s hovel: low strips of pasta
hang above his head like long johns.
Masseur with a grudge, he pummels out dough for pizza,
fingers branded with garlic,
chopping board whorled with tomato.

After service he harries through the plaza
scattering children like pigeons.
He feels it always; his poor heart straining, a sensation
akin to a crush but it’s really just rage’s carnal urgency.
By a high, cool window he spoons his mother luncheon.
Her sweet face sets with Botticelli resignation.

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You can reach Louise via email, louise.peterkin@ed.ac.uk. More of her work can be found here.

Katharine Macfarlane’s lyrical poetry is rooted in the history and landscape of the west of Scotland. She is currently the Harpies, Fechters and Quines Slam Champion and the Four Cities Slam Champion 2016. Katharine has recently performed with the Loud Poets in Glasgow and at the Belladrum Festival in Inverness, and hosted her first solo show, Home Words, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Her work has appeared in Untitled, The Grind, and The Write Angle.

Her poem After Keats was inspired by This living hand, now warm and capable.

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After Keats

 

Go slowly, dear one, through this icy silence,

and take my hand.

Grasp this world—it is pretty today—

made new for us, red-life streaming, alive.

Look to the trees, and the white that falls amongst them,

see that forgotten part that lies beneath blood.

Breathe. Fill the air between us—

these clouds have no fear of silence or spaces.

And take my hand—see here it is—I hold it towards you.

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Katharine can be reached via her Facebook page, Home Words. More of her work can be found here.

Louise Peterkin is a poet who lives and works in Edinburgh. Her work has featured in publications such as New Writing Scotland, The Dark Horse, and The North. In 2016 she received a New Writers Award for Poetry from the Scottish Book Trust.

‘Kay’ is the little boy in the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale who is kidnapped by the Snow Queen and taken to her ice palace. In this poem the Snow Queen addresses Kay and visits him as he sleeps.

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Kay

 

I emboss your dreams with
diamonds, with corridors of ice,
and a soft frayed mile of white,

a see-through throne with a haar
around, a floor, a door
a long thin sliver of light.

Fortunate child, to you
I bestow an arch of stars,
delicate trappings,

the intricate spectre
of a shimmering
fountain suspended in motion.

You do not know me.
In sleep, you play in my fortress,
dragging your sleigh behind in a glitter trail.

After waking, you never tell
yet break from the crowd
to stare into the distance.

You shiver. I’m closer.
When I come for you,
you will hear bells.

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You can reach Louise via email, louise.peterkin@ed.ac.uk. More of her work can be found here.