I have got the best of both worlds; growing up in Edinburgh and now living outside Glasgow.
quote by Magnus Magnusson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I sang in a rock band when I was training as a lawyer. You know, not professional, we just did it for fun. We just did gigs all over Edinburgh and some in Glasgow and some at festivals.
quote by Gerard Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's all this stuff that is happening in Edinburgh now, it's a sad attempt to create an Edinburgh society, similar to a London society, a highbrow literature celebrity society.
quote by Irvine Welsh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Live In Other Worlds
I LIVE IN OTHER WORLDS
I live in other worlds-
Far from those most people live in
I am happy in my worlds-mostly
They do not bite or sting-
I live in other worlds
There are inward worlds
Quiet worlds
They have poems and music and stories in them-
I listen to them
And I make and remake them
as my own little worlds
Word- worlds mostly-
Like this one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Different Worlds
I know this girl, shes always on my mind
She lives in her world and I live in mine
I should forget about her and Ive tried
Lord knows Ive tried
But I want to know her, and heres the other side
Ive got someone waiting for me every night
Shes the only one Ive ever loved
And its been that way for the longest time
Shes the one that makes my world go right
And it tears me in two because I know where Ill be tonight
I think she knows it
I think she knows
Two different worlds, two different worlds
One that belongs to me, one could be wrong for me
Two different worlds, two different worlds
Oh, two different worlds
Is she that different or is it the thrill of someone new
Strung out on her, I need her love
I need it bad, and I know, I know its true
Im the one that lies awake alone
I know, shes the one that makes me stray from home
And I know it
Yeah, I know it
Two different worlds, two different worlds
One that I may regret, one that I cant forget
Two different worlds, two different worlds
Oh, always two different worlds
No, I cant explain this emptiness
No, I know I cant go on like this
Two different worlds, two different worlds
Two different worlds
I live in two different worlds
One that I may regret, one that I wont forget
Two different worlds
But I cant live in both, I know
One world I must let go
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A new concept of god: “something not very different from the sum total of the physical laws of the universe; that is, gravitation plus quantum mechanics plus grand unified field theories plus a few other things equaled god." And by that all they meant was that here were a set of exquisitely powerful physical principles that seemed to explain a great deal that was otherwise inexplicable about the universe. Laws of nature… that apply not just locally, not just in Glasgow, but far beyond: Edinburgh, Moscow… Mars… the center of the Milky Way, and out by the most distant quarters known. That the same laws of physics apply everywhere is quite remarkable. Certainly that represents a power greater than any of us.
Carl Sagan in The Varieties of Scientific Experience: A Personal View of the Search for God
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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The Essence of Edinburgh
Evening time, in my town, is often deadly quiet,
But, up here in Edinburgh, there's a sensual riot!
From a night club doorway, purple-pink light spills out;
Along the streets, crowds of tourists still amble about.
There is an endless stream of cars and buses;
In my town, the pace is slow, but here, it rushes.
In the city, there are exciting sights and sounds;
It is so much livelier than my own little town.
In my town, after five, most people have gone home,
But, around the streets of Edinburgh, folk still roam.
Emergency vehicles rush past with klaxons blazing;
The atmosphere here, in the city, is just so amazing.
In my town, it is often almost dead after five,
But the city of Edinburgh is still very much alive.
Of action, in my own town, there's a really big lack;
I don't want to leave here: I don't want to go back.
Edinburgh, at Festival time, is always such a blast;
Against my own town, it paints a very sharp contrast.
Street entertainers attract crowds along the Royal Mile;
Attracting many tourists, they're sure to raise a smile.
At the Military Tattoo, I saw many massed bands;
I saw performers who hailed from foreign lands.
For me, that really was such a memorable night;
It filled all my senses with such excited delight.
I really wish that I could stay here forever and ever;
Inside, my soul feels light, and it floats like a feather.
I don't want to go back home: I don't want to leave.
For this amazing city, my heart will soon grieve.
Here, in Edinburgh, I have had such a great time;
For this wonderful city, I know my heart will pine.
Come tomorrow morning, when I board my train,
The essence of Edinburgh, in my heart, will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Two Worlds Collide
(murray, bayley, harris )
My telescope looks out
Into the stars tonight
A little speck of light
Seems twice the size tonight
The calculations are so fine
Can it be growing all the time?
Now I cant believe its true
And I dont know what to do
For the hundredth time
I check the declination
Now the fear starts to grow
Even my computer shows
There are no errors in the calculations
Now its happened take no other view
Collision course, you must believe its true
Now theres nothing left that we can do
When two worlds collide
The anger and the pain
Of all those who remain
Two worlds collide
Who will be left alive
No place to hide
When two worlds collide
The anger, the pain
Of those who remain
When two worlds collide
When two worlds collide
So who will survive
Theres no place to hide
When two worlds collide
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be thrifty..
when we look for our next dozen sweaters,
there are thousands have no even one.
wrap themselves in rags that are dirty,
lie on the sides hearing heavy sounds.
The trucks that carry tons,
The cars that carry none,
The rickshaws that carry nine,
never disturb the slumber they are in.
When the mid night parties irritate us,
When the crying of babies tortures us,
When the noise from neighbors threaten us,
How these people can sleep in noise?
a vagrant in Glasgow is no different
from a homeless in Edinburgh,
As these two are not at all
worse than homeless in India.
When the formers have dogs as pets.
the latter live with animals.
Bulls, cows, cats, dogs and reptiles underneath,
The life goes on for millions.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing Up The Hard Way
Hes got nothing to say, hes got no excuse
Hes just made that way, and hes gonna stay that way
Like a dog on the loose in a firework display in a world of his own
No, no, no, he wont back down or go running back home
Hes come a long way in life
Hes got a long way to go
He dont even know, he dont care because
Hes growing up the hard way
In and out of trouble every day
Growing up the hard way
Now no tellin where youll end up, boy
And hes got nothing to say, like hes lost for the worlds, his mind is in a daze
Thats his way, its just a little game he plays
Hes got nowhere to run while the city sleeps he wanders alone
Cuttin through the steel and the hearts of stone
Hes come a long way in life
Hes got a long way to go
He dont even know, but he dont care because
Hes growing up the hard way
In and out of trouble every day
Growing up the hard way
Youd better walk the straight and narrow
Growing up the hard way
In and out of trouble every day
Growing up the hard way
Never know what youre in for, boy
Hes come a long way in life
Hes got a long way to go
He dont wanna know, and he dont care because
Hes growing up the hard way
In and out of trouble every day
Hes growing up the hard way
Yeah, and hes gonna stay that way
You see, hes growing up the hard way
Walk the straight and narrow yeah, maybe someday
But still hes growing up the hard way
Its just the way hes grown up
Yeah, growing up the hard way
There aint no other way
Growing up the hard way
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of Brother Walfrid
My name is Andrew Kerins,
born and bred in Ballymote
I left my home at an early age
and traveled to Scotland in a trawler boat
Would I ever again see Ireland,
as the famine had stolen her strength
Would Scotland welcome the Diaspora,
of Irish men & women
My calling of becoming a Marist Priest
led me to the Glasgow parish of St.Mary's
Where the immigrant Irish, poor and starved,
made home in the east end of the city
My heart cried out when I saw theses lost souls,
living in poverty and in squalor
As Protestant Scotland would not accept,
their accent, dress or culture.
I prayed day and night to Our Lord,
for the welfare of St.Patrick's flock,
As jobs were few and far between
as they were ridiculed, harassed and mocked,
From all over Ireland, they came to Glasgow,
to escape the potatoe blight
Some had wished they had went to America,
to live in the comfort of the stars and stripes
I saw the hunger on the faces of children
when they sat for Sunday Mass,
My dream was to feed them once a day,
that became my spiritual task.
Along with the St Vincent de Paul Society,
we would reach out to these starving souls,
The Poor Children's 'Penny Dinner' Table was formed,
for the undernourished children of Glasgow.
The Donegal dialect and the Kerry brogue,
I heard within my confessional,
As Ireland’s lonely sons and daughters
spoke of broken hearts and promises,
I sought to feed their hunger
and bring hope to their shattered dreams
I fought to bring them comfort,
to silence their children’s screams.
At St.Mary’s hall in the Calton,
in February of 1887
I joined the victory celebrations
for a football team called Hibernian,
They were the pride of every Irishman
from Scotland’s east and west coast,
Were we sang songs of dear old Ireland,
to Hibernian, some gave a toast.
Like a vision of God before me,
inspiration came to me I a dream
Were the old east end of Glasgow,
would like Edinburgh, have an Irish team,
No more would Irish families live in poverty
or see their children sick,
For a football team would play for charity
and that team I would call Celtic.
For months, we toiled the barren land
that sat upon Janefield Street
And built a stadium for football
were the Irish would gather and meet,
I saw smiles appear on the faces of children,
who carried Ireland in their heart,
For they could not wait to welcome the Bhoys,
Who would one day grace Celtic Park.
Daniel McDonagh – Apr’27th 2006
poem by Daniel McDonagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His imagination conceived and bore - worlds; but nothing in these worlds became alive until he discovered its true and living name. The name was the breath of life; and, sooner or later, he invariably found it.
quote by Algernon H. Blackwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ship of Fools
38 poets are sailing across Loch Katrine
Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply
30,000 sheep were cleared from the hills around
To keep Glaswegian plumbing ewe-pee free
Their elders were not consulted in this matter
Driven lamenting off their ancestral pastures
The mutton clearances, a stain on Glasgow's character.
This loch is 500 feet deep
A water bull as large as a Clydeside bus
Stays in its icy depths, waiting
To hole the hulls of oily polluters
In the city of Glasgow's public water supply
Green Tagged Kate McLaren, the Gartmore Palmer.
Black Mini Muddler. Professor Watson's Fancy,
Black Zulu, the Middle dropper
All, have got their hooks in
The city of Glasgow's public water supply.
Meanwhile, above all those jugfuls of pub-mixers,
Throat coolers, juice diluting gallons,
buzzards swoop over the trees
red and roe deer feed on the slopes
pied flycatcher, tree pipit, wood warbler, redstart
soar and dive through the leaves
Occasionally dropping feathers
On the city of Glasgow's public water supply
Not to mention 38 poets, raising an ode or two
Like sails in the wind, as poets do,
Steering by sleight and illusion,
Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply.
Uisge beathe with a smidgeon of Bardic tang
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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World's worst poetry sold for $12,840
now, mine shall sell at
$15,000 per line.
EDINBURGH, Scotland – The vocabulary is poor and the rhyme excruciating but a collector paid $12,840 Friday for original works by William Topaz McGonagall, internationally celebrated as the worst poet ever to assault the English language.
Up for auction was a collection of 35 poems McGonagall self-published in the 1890s, in which he rambles about everything from a theatre fire and the life of Robert Burns to women's suffrage and Britain's imperial wars. Bad as it was, it did not reach the top estimate of $15,600 at the sale, conducted by Edinburgh auctioneers Lyon & Turnbull.
Still, McGonagall's work outstripped a collection of rare and inscribed Harry Potter books by Edinburgh resident J.K. Rowling, which fetched $12,000 at the same sale.
McGonagall's lack of talent was matched only by his delusion and ego. Along with the 35 poems were a portfolio of posters and two copies of his rather short autobiography – 'dedicated to himself, knowing none greater.'
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scottish Names in Oxford County
We have the Murray and McKay
From the country of Lord Rae ; *
McKenzie too from many a loch,
From Dingwall, Fain, and old Dornoch.
*Lord Rae, chief of the clan McKay. The family formerly owned large estates
in Sutherland, which they lost. The present Lord Rae was born in Holland,
and he married a rich lady with an estate near Edinburgh. He is one of the
foremost scientific men in Britain at the present time, and he frequently presides
at assemblies both in London and Edinburgh for the advancement of education
and science.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I waited and worked, and watched the inferior exalted for nearly thirty years; and when recognition came at last, it was too late to alter events, or to make a difference in living.
quote by Ellen Glasgow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brother Walfrid
For the poor and the famished,
The Irish and their children,
For the community who came from shores of Erin
To settle in Glasgow’s east end.
To raise awareness for the sick
Who had traveled on coffin ships,
Charity began from a Marist priest
As bread and water were hailed as a feast.
Goodwill never shone from Scotland’s heart
To those who were born under Ireland’s harp,
In the church and parish, they knelt and prayed
As hope was promised from Brother Walfrid.
And when the sport of football reached the streets of Glasgow,
When poverty still grew around the man from Ballymote,
Brother Walfrid found faith for the poor and the sick
As football was introduced to, the famous Glasgow Celtic.
Sept’7th 2004
poem by Daniel McDonagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Birth of Celtic
In eighteen hundred and eighty-eight
Brother Walfrid walked along the Gallowgate,
Were immigrants of Ireland walked the streets,
No food in their stomachs, no shoes on their feet.
These souls of the famished Irish nation
Had made their home in Glasgow’s east end,
Ridiculed & provoked by the Protestant majority
Who could not accept the Irish faith & identity.
In Scotland’s east coast, Edinburgh, the capital,
Had saw the rise in the game of football,
Where a team, Hibernian, played under Ireland’s harp,
And brought victory with them onto the park.
And Brother Walfrid, a Marist priest,
Saw poverty prosper in his parish,
He suggested a savior to the Irish nationalist
Who had never seen a ball been kicked on a pitch.
A team would be organized; a stadium would be built,
Players would be sourced who had courage & skill,
And the income generated from watching the team,
Would feed the tables of Irish families & children.
Players were asked, some where even stolen,
From teams like Cowlairs and Renton,
Land was rented that was barren and unkept;
History was about the wake the giant that slept.
Glasgow’s Irish saw Brother Walfrid’s dream come true
As an organized football team now grew,
A Celtic cross was stitched to a white jersey,
As preparations were made for a “friendly”.
Glasgow Rangers, the visitors, took to the field,
Already a threat to the Scottish game,
But the dominance faded for the team in blue,
As the Irish team of Celtic won by a score of 5-2
The birth of Celtic, was Brother Walfrid’s dream,
As history has favoured the bhoys in green,
From the legacy of Jock Stein, to the resurgence of Martin O’Neill,
The passion & commitment can be found on Celtic’s football field.
July'22nd 2003
poem by Daniel McDonagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now That The Year Is Growing Kind Of Old (Envelope Couplet Sestets)
Now that the year is growing kind of old
when the true story of Jesus we are told,
we are living up to a day of giving
while daily we hear joyful birds singing
as when they did that child once behold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
Now that the year is growing kind of old
our Christian faith we do at times uphold
while to others we bring some happiness
like messengers of God we try to bless,
sing happy songs on each friendly threshold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
Now that the year is growing kind of old
while some live sheltered in a stronghold
in a world of chaos there is tranquillity,
when in God we find some serenity,
in our own lives we act cheerful and bold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
Now that the year is growing kind of old
in our lives God’s blessings are manifold,
while merrily bells do jingle and chime,
we tell of loving that goes past all time,
we celebrate Christmas in each household,
now that the year is growing kind of old.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words
Can you feel it when
Your throat dries?
Can you see it in the night sky?
Just a mumble round at tea time
Smile
When Im watching you
When I was a child
We were living in fear
Living in fear
When I was a child
Just a light year from here
Living in fear
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
Tolerating propaganda
And your girlfriend, alexandra
With her secret memoranda
Signs
For an interview
Searching for the light
In the world of the blahs
Masquerading as stars
How can this be right?
Youve been going too far
Leaving conscience ajar
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
When I was a child
We were living in fear
Living in fear
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hardly I count my faded previous births
Once in Alaska I caught fish and lived in my Igloo
Unfortunately not married till I die.
When Christopher Columbus found America
I was a Turtle in the Pacific Ocean.
I served as a butler to Duke of Edinburgh in the Victorian era.
During the World War (II) I was the Alsatian pet dog to Adolf Hitler.
Now I live in America with my singsong beloved and two old suitcases that full of bygone unlimited hopes.
Sometimes in my colored dreams I see turtles, Igloos, dogs and I play baseball with Hitler, Columbus and Duke of Edinburgh.
*** Many happy returns of the day to Independent America!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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