Scotstober: Poems and Writings in Scots, Days 1, 2 and 3

I studied Scottish Literature in Glasgow. I still love and try to read as much Scottish writing as possible, but I also really enjoy writing in Scots, one of Scotland's national languages. I can read most modern Scots and even some of the older versions, but I can't speak it naturally. I usually know the words to use, but it doesn't sound right when I say it, my accent is too forced, so I pepper my language with the occasional word. I asked a teacher yesterday if they were puggled and then struggled to find another word to explain what I meant. 

I do occasionally write in Scots when I feel the voice of the poem suits. I've been working on one this week, so when I noticed on Twitter yesterday the trend of #scotstober to encourage the use of Scots and one poster had added a poem in Scots that they had written I thought it was a good chance to share some of the poems I loved.

I didn't realise at first there was a list of words we're working from, so at first I just posted any Scots poem I liked, but now I'm setting myself the challenge to post writing in Scots on Twitter every day in October using the word of the day. Here is link to the 'rules'. If you want to join the challenge proper, the idea is to use a Scots word in a poem, flash fiction, a joke, anyway you can. 

But as I have a few projects on at the moment, I will just give a taster of Scots writing here. I wish I could say more about each writer and poem, but hey hoo. Dictionaries of the Scots Language is where to go if you need help understanding any words in these poems. 

@Lenniesaurus is a good feed to follow on Twitter to learn a bit about Scots. It looks like she'll also be doing her Scots Word of the Day based around the list. She's also a great wee poet herself, so check out her links to her videos. 

Day 1: First poem is by Hugh MacDiarmid one of my favourites who helped bring around the renaissance of Scottish literature and the Scots language. 

The Eemis Stane

 

I’ the how-dumb-deid o’ the cauld hairst nicht  

The warl’ like an eemis stane

Wags i’ the lift;

An’ my eerie memories fa’

Like a yowdendrift.

 

Like a yowdendrift so’s I couldna read  

The words cut oot i’ the stane

Had the fug o’ fame

An’ history’s hazelraw

No’ yirdit thaim.

Day 2: Violet Jacob, an Angus poet and novelist.

The Field by the Lirk o’ the Hill

 

Daytime an’ nicht,

Sun, wind an’ rain;

The lang, cauld licht

O’ the spring months again.

The yaird’s a’ weed,

An’ the fairm’s a’ still –

Wha’ll sow the seed

I’ the field by the lirk o’ the hill?

 

Prood maun ye lie,

Prood did ye gang;

Auld, auld am I,

But O! life’s lang!

Ghaists i’ the air,

Whaups cryin’ shrill,

An you nae mair

I’ the field by the lirk o’ the hill –

Aye, bairn, nae mair, nae mair,

I’ the field by the lirk o’ the hill!

Day 3: Word of the Day is nicht - night. I've come across this Franco-Scot poet Paul Malgrati and I love his modern take on Scots. 

Afore a Nicht Oot

luvebites o efternoons

wither unner tweed;

souches o Lapsang Souchong

sing in the storey;

tirrivees o kettle hae skived

oot o mind;

lust bakes shortbreads

ablaw the stove;

it feels like the door cuid jar an let bee bops o banter ben.

I've spent this weekend creating a zine from scratch in 48 for the Helsinki Writers Group for the Zineton event. 48 hours from getting the prompt, writing the work and designing and editing the zine. It's probably pants and I'm not sure if the PDF will even work, but hopefully something will be usable. It will hopefully be exhibited at events in Helsinki, Turku and Tampere here in Finland and online on the website. We'll even get some paper copies. Really stressful and challenging. The Group was great, getting work in on time and helping with proofing and design ideas. I can't wait to see the end result. 

Take One: Recording Poetry

Autumn has hit Finland hard. I love it in the now, but it's always the upcoming season that dampens my enthusiasm for windfall apples and cool mornings. However, we're glutting on crumble, spices, the changing colours while we have a chance. 

Yesterday, I recorded a new autumn poem with my writers group, Helsinki Writers this weekend as part of a Superwood Festival project a local university has organised. It's one of a series of poems my group is providing as audio for a forest walk. I was nervous about professionally recording. It's almost ok in my quiet house with no one watching, but reading in front of my friends and a handful of students was a bit nerve-wracking. But it's a well-paid gig, so I jumped at the chance. It was a lot of fun to work with the other writers and come up with separate poems on a similar theme that worked with each other. I'm excited to hear the final project. 

Even though it was a bit strange to hear my voice played back to me, they made it sound pretty good, even in the raw form. And the experience wasn't that scary. My poem was one of the longer ones, but I managed to get through it twice and had one small mistake early on for each of those versions, so it wasn't too bad. They managed to take one line out of one version that was said with better emphasis and put it in the other take which was better overall. So I'm happy with my end.

It was interesting to write a poem that I knew would primarily exist in audio form, to think about what I could say easily and what could be understood from sound alone rather than the words on the page. I made a lot of changes once I started to practice reading it aloud, words and phrases that became tongue-twisters next to each other, images that would be lost unless given space to breathe. Hopefully, it will work, but it's hard to know until hear the poems next to each other, cleaned up.  

My writing group is brilliant, we've been sharing our drafts, conferring on proofs, offering advice, working out running order. We're all from different backgrounds, so we had one person with more experience in performance, myself and another writer have a bit of experience in reading work (though I'm not good or comfortable with it) and some complete beginners, but we all managed to do a great job and have fun. I've been talking for ages about having a workshop on reading your work, so hopefully this will happen so we can take advantage of more chances like this. I'll hopefully be able to link to the recording once the event is over. 

Other positive notes, one of my poems is appearing in the new edition of the The North magazine. The North is one of those established magazines I've been trying for years to get into, so I was chuffed when they accepted one of my recent poems. There are so many established and new names to check out in each issue, I can't wait to dip in.  

I'm equally pleased to appear in a newer magazines like issue 2 of the new Glasgow-based magazine Wet Grain. Smaller magazines offer less well-established writers a chance to shine, so I never rule them out. I like being involved at the beginning of what may turn out to be a big name later on and to follow writers from early stages in their career, but I've been around long enough to do that. lol. 

I've also had a poem published in the university-themed anthology The Worst Best Years published by Acid Bath Publishing. Fun to remember those distant times, good and bad though it's somewhat a relief that they are over and I can write about them without the stress of living them.

I'm excited to see what else this season brings. Enjoy September in its colourful glory. 

The Sealey Challenge: Days 15, 16, 18 and 21

I'm definitely not able to keep up with a book a day for The Sealey Challenge, but I've read more poetry this month already than I've read in the last year. So a successful attempt for me. I maybe need to do something similar with some of the poetry magazines I get as I can never keep up with all the reading for them either. 

It's been storming here after such a dry summer, we've been flooded with so much rain. So it's nice to curl up with poetry in the evenings after work as a way to wind down. 

Day 14: Remember, Body by CP Cavafy. I loved reading The Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell once upon a time and Cavafy was mentioned many times, so I picked up the Penguin Classic mini-edition just to get an idea of what his poetry was like. 

This is a collection of short, mostly erotic poems, all tinged with a sense of longing and despair at the passing of time and the loss of loved ones. I love 'Painted Things' where he admits that sometimes he's discouraged by writing and just wants to sit and think about love.

Durrell's collection of novels echo Cavafy's Alexandria and his feeling of desperate and often forbidden love. Cavafy has lovely little touches of humour and a deep sense of the history of Alexandria running through his poems which lift them above just mere love stories. This little collection makes me want to explore more of his work.

Day 16: inside looking in by the brilliant poet and teacher Tom Leonard. I was lucky enough to have Tom read and critique my work when I first arrived in Scotland. For me, he was the epitome of Glasgow, rough but warm, honest but brutal. My work needed his sharp eye, and pen and it was a watershed moment for me with my writing and with my relationship with Scotland. 

This little chapbook was published in 2004 by the now defunct Survivors' Press as part of their daemon series. He was a first-class poet with his own style, tight, often humorous often written in phonetic Glaswegian Scots. His voice often directly addresses the reader, often harshly, demanding attention, but some of these poems are more tender than others I've read, settling down to sleep with his wife or watching women knitting. 

This chapbook is no longer available, I managed to grab one of the last copies when the editor was having a clear-out, but his collection Intimate Voices is a brilliant one to start with, but it looks like it is also out of print. His work really needs to be republished. 

Day 18: The Weight of Oranges by Anne Michaels. Rich and dense, metaphor piled on metaphor, Michaels' poems cannot be read quickly. They are long and heavy and need time to be digested. She is a poet highly aware of the poetic in the smallest moments, in rain, in different tones and textures of light, the lisp of the wind. Her poems often address an unknown speaker, so I feel a sense of disassociation as I adjust to the new scene and character, but then I become submerged in their voice and images. 

I came to Anne Michaels through her novel Fugitive Pieces so poetic and tightly written, it has the same sense as her poems, of sifting through time, memory and the layers of a connection between the speaker and the person addressed. 

I need to spend more time in these poems, to catch each image as they build upon the previous and to delve into the places the poems create. I never feel at ease in her work, aware that I am missing something, but I continue to return to them in order to find my way. 

Day 21: Nobody by Alice Oswald. A heady mix of mythical and modern-day imagery, aeroplanes and styrofoam floats on purple seas, dawn waking rosy-fingered behind net curtains. I loved Greek myths when I was young and really enjoyed the the current retelling of Circe and Achilles by Madeline Miller, so this 2019 collection by the Oxford Professor of Poetry caught my eye. This book-length poem plays with the stories of the poet from 'The Illiad' who was to spy on Agamemnon's wife, but then was abandoned on a stony island which allowed the wife to be seduced with the tale of Odysseus and his faithful wife from 'The Odyssey'. The poem is punctuation free, line breaks shifting across the pages leaving large white spaces and images that seem scoured by tides.

The sea is the strongest character in the book, its moods set the tone, but the poem says 'the sea itself has no character just this horrible thirst' and that feeling is strong throughout the book. The speakers feel like a true nobody of wives and poets, gods and sailors, it's never clear who you're listening to. The poem feels at once ancient and new, jumbled, found in pieces on some beach. I've just discovered that the book was meant to go with a collection of watercolours by William Tillyer, but I don't have that version. Shame really, as a quick internet search shows that they would really expand the poem. A captivating read.

Personal note: I've had two poems published by Fevers of the Mind poetry and art blog recently which has a nice mix of writings and reviews. I've also had a concrete poem in the second half of the current issue of streetcake. Not my usual style but an interesting experiment. 

The Sealey Challenge: Days 9, 10, 12 and 14

I spent the weekend with my writing group at a Writers Retreat. We booked a big events cottage in Eastern Finland and drove up on Friday after school. It was amazing that we managed to get 11 people together after such a difficult 18 months. We spent time sharing our work, talking about various writing issues and some time writing, but most of all we spent time laughing and sharing. It was very much needed. 

I didn't do any reading over the trip, but I'm back on the horse with #The Sealey Challenge: Day 9: Glimt av opphav - Glims o Origin by Christine De Luca, , a Shetland poet. Christine's poems are in the Shetland dialect of Scots and then translated to Norwegian by Odd Goksøyr. Christine gave me this collection when she visited Helsinki a few years back promoting a project because I speak some Norwegian and have studied the Scots language in university. I really enjoyed reading these poems out loud, in Norwegian and Shetlandic, seeing how the languages are so closely connected. Her poems examine the overlapping of the two cultures as in 'Thule Revisted'/'Tilbake to Thule' where Norwegian sailors arrive in Shetland to the delight of the locals as well as various characters, places and cultural highlights of the islands. The poems range from their geological beginnings to modern day, even beyond Shetland. 

I love that Christine doesn't shy away from mixing science and it's language with that of history and old myths, bringing Shetland into the modern age with a generous nod to its origins, hence the title. The poems are rich, linguistically, images and sounds evoking the place, the people and their stories. Beautifully crafted.

Day 10: Richard Hugo, The Right Madness on Skye. I read this book decades ago and brought it out of my loft a few years back, but hadn't gotten around until now to reread it. Not quite fitting the idea of buying new books, but I can't afford that many books just now.

Richard Hugo has an amazing sense of place, I loved his book on writing The Triggering Town which focuses more on his method and connection to location in his poems. This collection wraps his poems around the spirit of the Isle of Skye, connecting with the living and dead inhabitants, so spending time on the island in Scotland allowed him to do just that on many different levels. 

He explores Skye's history, mythology, geography, the despair still felt after the Clearances, the love of Gaelic and mysterious Celts. The image of a strange woman often pops up on the periphery of his stories, looking on in warning like Cassandra, knowing too much, but never listened to.

His poems often feel rambling, like he's chasing their ideas through the landscape until he can get to grip with them. But then he's sharing their truths with you over a whiskey. Hugo was one of my favourite poets when I was in university out in the Pacific Northwest where he was originally based and I now remember why. His honesty over his struggles and fears with his writing, his life and life in general feel so sincere and at times heartbreaking. This was a lovely reread.

Since school has started back with a rough bang, I'm turning to my collection of chapbooks I've received as part of Hedgehog Poetry Press's Cult of the Spiny Hog I joined a couple of years back. For a yearly fee you receive copies of all the books the Press publishes, and also free entry to any competition. 

Day 12: Before it's too late by Sarah P Thomson. I'm tired with my first week back at work, so I'm going for a shorter chapbook published by @hedgehogpoetry. 

I've always said I'm not a great fan of poems that work with strict forms, but I found the way the poems in this chapbook use repeated lines in villanelles and pantoums and other forms really mesmerising. How the same line repeated two or three times changes the meaning of that particular line,but also the lines around it, giving them more weight or reversing their intention entirely. Thomson's poems tempt me to want to try more of these styles, to create such elaborate layers. She touches on many subjects, but the title links them all together beautifully.

Day 14: Taxus Baccata by Patricia M Osborne. Another Hedgehog chapbook that I received as part of their Cult subscription. It's worth joining. Taxus Baccata is a collection of nature poems focusing especially on birds and trees. Osbourne examines disparate beauty and savagery of birds, magpies cannibalising a flock-mate, a swan mother and the decline of ancient trees. She mixes mythology with slow, detailed descriptions of yews, oaks, swans and seagulls. Her rich language drips with colours, textures and movement. This book is a delightful read.

In other news, I have had a poem published in Stand Magazine. I recently came across an old notebook where I kept track of my early submissions and according to that I first submitted in Stand in 1996. It's taken me all this time to have some work accepted, but I'm overjoyed it's happened and with my poem 'The Perfume of Rain' which I particularly love. So a proper dream publication. 

The Sealey Challenge: Days 2, 3 and 4

School started for the teachers yesterday and I was more tired than I thought possible for a handful of meetings and scrapping old stickers off laptops. Back at it today, but I've been trying to keep up with the Sealey Challenge to read a short collection of poetry a day. Day 2: How to Lose Your Home and Save Your Life by Angela Carr. I've worked with Angela as a mentee and through her online courses. I've really enjoyed the courses, she puts so much work into finding poems that help open the prompts. This is her first collection. These poems show such a wide range of skills, pushing the language to carry so much weight and story. They don't feel burdened, but strong and resilient. Angela works the poems with apparent ease, I loved the villanelle 'Afterlife'. She brings to life so many intimate details that build up the layers of the poems, so reading them feels like diving. I can't wait to see Angela's future work. Day 3: Field Work by Seamus Heaney. I found this in the book exchange at my school and I don't think I've ever read a complete Heaney collection, just a lot of singular poems. I wasn't familiar with these poems, so it was nice to see a different side of the poet. I was caught out by the beauty of 'Oysters' the first poem that was quickly followed by poems about Northern Ireland's violence which obviously haunted him even after he moved to Ireland. I even enjoyed his 'Glanmore Sonnets' which didn't have the strict feel I usually find of the form. This challenge has been eye-opening: reading entire short collections of poetry gives new insight. Usually I focus on individual poems and dive into the language, but following the poet's intent of how they craft the flow of the poems as a group offers that bit more for a first read. I think I'll try to do this more often.

Day 4: When I Think of My Body as a Horse by Wendy Pratt. I've worked with Wendy for years, first as a mentee through the WoMentoring Programme and then through her courses as well, available on her site. She's inspired many of my recent poems through her prompts and helped me learn to write daily again after struggling for years with various issues.

I've probably been unconsciously avoiding reading all of this book, because I knew it would be a tough read. The poems follow Pratt's journey in hope of becoming a mother, the loss of her daughter shortly after birth and her struggle to comes to terms with her death and the fact that she wouldn't ever have another child. They are raw and difficult to read, especially if you have struggled with any of these issues.

But they are beautiful, honest and tight knit. She uses the metaphors of her body as animals, horses and hares, repeatedly, but they never feel tired or overworked. They fit each moment and the language draws you into the hope and grief, the longing to escape and at the same time be present in all the emotional turmoil.

Pratt is a superb at crafting, story, imagery and language come together with exquisite delicacy. Each poem builds upon the next. The sense of the poet being aware and present in each moment gives these poems special weight. The reader slips them on like an animal's spirit. They are a wonderful read.

We'll see how many more books I manage with work being full on again. It's nice to have managed even these four.

Sealey Challenge: Day 1

Summer is almost over here in Finland, after months of high temps and no rain, thunderstorms hit last night and it's been raining all day. Schools start back in a week, so we're on the wind-down. 

I'm torn about going back, I will miss the lazy days, but I would really like to talk to adults again. My stress insomnia has already started up, but hopefully that will pass once I go back for our orientation. 

I've decided to try the Sealey Challenge this month, to read a poetry collection a day for the month of August. I have to admit I'm not good at keeping up with my poetry reading. I buy collections and dip into them, but often struggle to sit down and read the whole book at once. 

I'm not sure if I'll get through a whole collection in one day and will sometimes feel I'm not doing justice to the poet. I read fiction quickly, too quickly to appreciate play of language and technique unless I force myself to really slow down like I'm doing with my current reread of Sunset Song by Lewis Grassic Gibbon which is a beautifully poetic novel and needs a slow read. 

I will treat this challenge as the introduction to the poems I'm reading, a first splash about and then I can spend some time fully exploring my favourites later.

So Day 1: The Stone Age by Jen Hadfield. The book takes me further into all the things I love about Jen's work, the play of language, delving deep into imagery, an intense awareness of place and culture. I had been slowly digesting these poems since I bought it, but I'm glad I've dived into the whole book as it builds a world around the poems using the particular typeset and poem placement.

Jen says the poems look at neurodiversity. I love that she challenges my idea of how a poem works, untethering punctuation, unexpected line breaks though I feel I'm moving blindly not sure how to take a line that begins with a comma or the large, faint poems that seem to fade off the page. I am trying to give up some of my preconceived notions of poetry, but I want to find some recordings of her reading some of the poems, so I can feel and hear how she wades through them.

Jen is a friend and inspiration. I've been looking forward to seeing where her next book would take her. A beautifully sculpted collection.

My poem 'Hiraeth' has been published in the new issue of The Ogham Stone. Copies can be ordered here. It's one of those magazines I've been trying to get into for a while and a poem I've been hoping to find a home for probably even longer, so them coming together is a blessed event. The magazine is a weighty, professional read with fiction, poetry and reviews and I'm honoured to be included with so many excellent writers. 

Marble Poetry has also published one of my poems in Issue 9. Smaller, but equally beautifully produced the issue has work by some familiar names like Anna Saunders and Matthew Duggan and a few new ones I'm going to discover. Check it out.

Both magazines were nice enough to send me hard copies in Finland which I really appreciate. I know not all print magazines can afford that these days, so I'm very grateful. 

A Poetic Daunder - Stepping Away from the Familiar

My poems don't rhyme or at least I don't usually use end rhyme or repeating patterns. I find them difficult and forced to write, a straight jacket that doesn't allow me to say what I want. 

But, a teacher friend has gotten me into the Poetry Unbound podcast and this has set me off on a new tangent. I'm also not into audio stuff much. I have struggled to focus on online lectures, audio books, music, podcasts, becoming distracted, flipping away if it's on a screen. I listened to one PU podcast because my friend was raving about the title of the poem being a sign of a great poem, so I though I'd listen to the poem at least. 

The poem read on the podcast was Hanif Abdurraqib's 'When We Were 13, Jeff’s Father Left The Needle Down On A Journey Record Before Leaving The House One Morning And Never Coming Back' and my friend was right. The title is killer, the poem even more so. The presenter Pádraig Ó Tuama has an amazing voice for reading poetry and he brings his own gentle enthusiasm for the poems he shares. So I listened on. And again on the way home from school that afternoon. I continued to pick another episode and another and another, in the mornings before work and often on the way home. 

One day after a partially tough morning with the child I support at school, I brought my lunch up to the classroom, rather than sit amongst the noise of fourth graders in the cafeteria. I needed to calm down before the next class started, so I stuck on a random episode called 'A Poem for What You Learn Alone' which seemed to suit my mood. The poem was Brad Aaron's Modlin's poem 'What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade'. It is nothing about fourth grade and exactly what I needed. I think I've heard all three seasons now, but keep going back to favourites or finding one that I that I've forgotten. 

Back to rhyming poems, I listened recently to the episode about Natasha Trethewey's poem 'Miscegenation,' written in the Arabic poetic form  ghazal. I have been struggling with a poem that skirts several issues and when I took it to my writing group a couple of people said that the stanzas didn't seem connected. One of the conventions of a ghazal is that each stanza couple should be a small poem in its own right, somewhat unconnected from the next, but that the repeating phrase or word at the end of each couplet brings them back to the overall poetic themes. 

So for my sins, I tried turning my hodge-podge poem into a ghazal. It's hard work, everything I worry about with strict styles is hitting me. Am I forcing the line to fit to those last words? Am I saying this just because I need to get that word in? Can I fudge the rules of the form to make it flow more like me? 

I'm still working on it and at the moment sticking to the form as it's used in English though I'm open to colouring outside the lines if I feel it will help my poem. After a year of not writing much due to work, it feels good to force myself to stretch my poetic self and try a new style.

Writing prompt: take something different from your usual style whether it be in a different genre or just in structure or format and break it apart, figure out how it works, its rules and see if you can adapt it to your own writing. You can attempt the style wholesale or pick and choose the bits you like. Try a villanelle or a ghost story or a ghazal. Don't force it until it hurts, but push yourself to try something new in your writing.