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
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A Tribute to Dr. Murison
Success to the good and skilful Dr Murison,
For golden opinions he has won
From his patients one and all,
And from myself, McGonagall.
He is very skilful and void of pride;
He was so to me when at my bedside,
When I turned badly on the 25th of July,
And was ill with inflammation, and like to die.
He told me at once what was ailing me;
He said I had been writing too much poetry,
And from writing poetry I would have to refrain,
Because I was suffering from inflammation on the brain.
And he has been very good to me in my distress,
Good people of Dundee, I honestly confess,
And to all his patients as well as me
Within the Royal city of Dundee.
He is worthy of the public's support,
And to his shop they should resort
To get his advice one and all;
Believe me on him ye ought to call.
He is very affable in temper and a skilful man,
And to cure all his patients he tries all he can;
And I wish him success for many a long day,
For he has saved me from dying, I venture to say;
The kind treatment I received surpasses all
Is the honest confession of McGonagall.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Edinburgh
Beautiful city of Edinburgh!
Where the tourist can drown his sorrow
By viewing your monuments and statues fine
During the lovely summer-time.
I'm sure it will his spirits cheer
As Sir Walter Scott's monument he draws near,
That stands in East Prince's Street
Amongst flowery gardens, fine and neat.
And Edinburgh Castle is magnificent to be seen
With its beautiful walks and trees so green,
Which seems like a fairy dell;
And near by its rocky basement is St Margaret's Well,
Where the tourist can drink at when he feels dry,
And view the castle from beneath so very high,
Which seems almost towering to the sky.
Then as for Nelson's monument that stands on Calton Hill,
As the tourist gazes thereon, with wonder his heart does fill
As he thinks on Admiral Nelson who did the Frenchmen kill,
Then, as for Salisbury Crags, they are most beautiful to be seen,
Especially in the month of June, when the grass is green;
There numerous mole-hills can be seen,
And the busy little creatures howking away,
Searching for worms among the clay;
And as the tourist's eye does wander to and fro
From the south side of Salisbury Crags below,
His bosom with admiration feels all aglow
As he views the beautiful scenery in the valley below;
And if, with an observant eye, the little loch beneath he scans,
He can see the wild ducks about and beautiful white swans.
Then, as for Arthur's Seat, I'm sure it is a treat
Most worthy to be seen, with its rugged rocks and pastures green,
And the sheep browsing on its sides
To and fro, with slow-paced strides,
And the little lambkins at play
During the livelong summer day,
Beautiful city of Edinburgh! the truth to express,
Your beauties are matchless I must confess,
And which no one dare gainsay,
But that you are the grandest city in Scotland at the present day!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Beautiful Edinburgh
Beautiful city of Edinburgh, most wonderful to be seen,
With your ancient palace of Holyrood and Queen's Park Green,
And your big, magnificent, elegant New College,
Where people from all nations can be taught knowledge.
The New College of Edinburgh is certainly very grand
Which I consider to be an honour to fair Scotland,
Because it's the biggest in the world, without any doubt,
And is most beautiful in the inside as well as out.
And the Castle is wonderful to look upon,
Which has withstood many angry tempests in years bygone;
And the rock it's built upon is rugged and lovely to be seen
When the shrubberies surrounding it are blown full green.
Morningside is lovely and charming to be seen;
The gardens there are rich with flowers and shrubberies green
And sweet scented perfumes fill the air,
Emanating from the sweet flowers and beautiful plants there.
And as for Braidhill, it's a very romantic spot,
But a fine place to visit when the weather is hot;
There the air is nice and cool, which will help to drive away sorrow
When ye view from its summit the beautiful city of Edinburgh.
And as for the statues, they are very grand-
They cannot be surpassed in any foreign land;
And the scenery is attractive and fascinating to the eye,
And arrests the attention of tourists as they pass by.
Lord Melville's Monument is most elegant to be seen,
Which is situated in St. Andrew's Square, amongst shrubberies green,
Which seems most gorgeous to the eye,
Because it is towering so very high.
The Prince Albert Consort Statue looks very grand,
Especially the granite blocks whereon it doth stand,
Which is admired by all tourists as they pass by,
Because the big granite blocks seem magnificent to the eye.
Princes Street West End Garden Is fascinating to be seen,
With its beautiful big trees and shrubberies green,
And its magnificent water fountain in the valley below
Helps to drive away from the tourist all care and woe.
The Castle Hotel is elegant and grand,
And students visit it from every foreign land,
And the students of Edinburgh often call there
To rest and have luncheon, at a very cheap fare.
Queen Street Garden seems charming to the eye,
And a great boon it is to the tenantry near by,
As they walk along the grand gravel walks near there,
Amongst the big trees and shrubberies, and inhale pure air.
Then, all ye tourists, be advised by me,
Beautiful Edinburgh ye ought to go and see.
It's the only city I know of where ye can wile away the time
By viewing its lovely scenery and statues fine.
Magnificent city of Edinburgh, I must conclude my muse,
But to write in praise of thee I cannot refuse.
I will tell the world boldly without dismay
You have the biggest college in the world at the present day.
Of all the cities in the world, Edinburgh for me;
For no matter where I look, some lovely spot I see;
And for picturesque scenery unrivalled you do stand.
Therefore I pronounce you to be the Pride of Fair Scotland.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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A Requisition to the Queen
Smiths Buildings No. 19
Patons Lane,
Dundee.
Sept the 6th. 1877.
Most August! Empress of India, and of great Britain the Queen,
I most humbly beg your pardon, hoping you will not think it mean
That a poor poet that lives in Dundee,
Would be so presumptous to write unto Thee
Most lovely Empress of India, and Englands generous Queen,
I send you an Address, I have written on Scotlands Bard,
Hoping that you will accept it, and not be with me to hard,
Nor fly into a rage, but be as Kind and Condescending
As to give me your Patronage
Beautiful Empress, of India, and Englands Gracious Queen,
I send you a Shakespearian Address written by me.
And I think if your Majesty reads it, right pleased you will be.
And my heart it will leap with joy, if it is patronized by Thee.
Most Mighty Empress, of India, and Englands beloved Queen,
Most Handsome to be Seen.
I wish you every Success.
And that heaven may you bless.
For your Kindness to the poor while they are in distress.
I hope the Lord will protect you while living
And hereafter when your Majesty is ... dead.
I hope the Lord above will place an eternal Crown! upon your Head.
I am your Gracious Majesty ever faithful to Thee,
William McGonagall, The Poor Poet,
That lives in Dundee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Scotland
As I walked the streets of Scotland
I was the tourist from a different land
Where the skirts are worn by the man
And their ways of life I try to understand.
Where golf was invented and so was Peter pan
Also was whiskey and the Scottish clan
Where Jekyll and Hyde had first began
And where Robert the Bruce once did stand.
As I strolled the streets of Dalkeith
I smiled at the Scots that I did meet
Their ways of life I found strange but unique
Where the mind is strong and the souls not weak.
At the churches I heard the pastors preach
Then in the pubs at night more souls they'd teach
Religion and salvation is out of no ones reach
So they passed another verse and a pint to me.
As I roamed the streets of Edinburgh
Seeing the castle upon its perch
The Poets and authors which I did search
While listening to the music and the word.
Where the Bard Robert Burns once did work
Also the killing fields of Hare and Burke
Where the Greyfrairs Bobby once did lurk
And also the the home of the Presbyterian Kirk.
As I walked the streets of Dalkeith
I Remembered the lassies that I did meet
Then upon the streets of Edinburgh
Where my knowledge of poetry was given birth
I had walked the streets alone in Scotland
Where history and beauty I held its hand
Now I am back home in the United States
I realize Scotland, she was my destiny and my fate.
poem by Randy McClave
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Robert Burns
Immortal Robert Burns of Ayr,
There's but few poets can with you compare;
Some of your poems and songs are very fine:
To "Mary in Heaven" is most sublime;
And then again in your "Cottar's Saturday Night,"
Your genius there does shine most bright,
As pure as the dewdrops of the night.
Your "Tam O'Shanter" is very fine,
Both funny, racy, and divine,
From John O'Groats to Dumfries
All critics consider it to be a masterpiece,
And, also, you have said the same,
Therefore they are not to blame.
And in my own opinion both you and they are right,
For your genius there does sparkle bright,
Which I most solemnly declare
To thee, Immortal Bard of Ayr!
Your "Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon"
Is sweet and melodious in its tune,
And the poetry is moral and sublime,
And in my opinion nothing can be more fine.
Your "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled"
Is most beautiful to hear sung or read;
For your genius there does shine as bright,
Like unto the stars of night
Immortal Bard of Ayr! I must conclude my muse
To speak in praise of thee does not refuse,
For you were a mighty poet, few could with you compare,
And also an honour to Scotland, for your genius it is rare.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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A New Year's Resolution to Leave Dundee
Welcome! thrice welcome! to the year 1893,
For it is the year I intend to leave Dundee,
Owing to the treatment I receive,
Which does my heart sadly grieve.
Every morning when I go out
The ignorant rabble they do shout
'There goes Mad McGonagall'
In derisive shouts as loud as they can bawl,
And lifts stones and snowballs, throws them at me;
And such actions are shameful to be heard in the city of Dundee.
And I'm ashamed, kind Christians, to confess
That from the Magistrates I can get no redress.
Therefore I have made up my mind in the year of 1893
To leave the ancient City of Dundee,
Because the citizens and me cannot agree.
The reason why? -- because they disrespect me,
Which makes me feel rather discontent.
Therefore to leave them I am bent;
And I will make my arrangements without delay,
And leave Dundee some early day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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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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They're Red Hot
(Robert Johnson)
Hot tamales1 and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
I got a girl, say she long and tall
She sleeps in the kitchen with her feets in the hall
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
She got two for a nickel, got four for a dime
Would sell you more, but they ain't none of mine
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale, yes, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
I got a letter from a girl in the room
Now she got something good she got to bring home soon, now
Its hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got em for sale
[Spoken:] They're too hot boy!
The billy got back in a bumble bee nest
Ever since that he can't take his rest, yeah
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes you got'em for sale, I mean
Yes, she got'em for sale
Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale
[Spoken:]
Man don't mess around em hot tamales now
'Cause they too black bad, if you mess around em hot tamales
I'm gonna upset your backbone, put your kidneys to sleep
I'll due to break away your liver and dare your heart to beat bout my
Hot tamales cause they red hot, yes they got
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burns and Scott
Meeting of Burns and Scott in Edinburgh.
When Burns did make triumphant entry
'Mong Edina's famous gentry,
A discussion did there arise
Among those solons, learned and wise,
About some lines by a new poet ;
The author's name none did know it.
Poem was of Canadian snow,
And how o'er it the blood did flow,
For it had then been swept by war,
Where armies met in deadly jar.
But, 'mong philosphers, was boy
Of tender years, now Scotland's joy ;
He there did quickly quote each line,
And author's name he did define.
Burns glanced at him, with loving eyes,
Youth ever more that look did prize
The happiest moment in his lot ;
Ever revered by Walter Scott,
Thus Scotland's greatest poets met,
And they did part with sad regret.
poem by James McIntyre
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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
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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
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A Notorious Scribbler's property
-Notice of sale at public Auction-
Notice is hereby given that the following mentioned property will be sold at Public Auction on the 30th of November,2009 at or after8.30 A.M.
The sale will be conducted at Lower depths, Happy ending Road, Missing Island, Zip 12345.
The Manor in the thick jungle
A skeleton of a Dinosaur
Clothing, furniture and other household items.
Abandoned stable and Cocoa fields
A brass kennel (Who slept there on full moon days when he was drunk)
A Library without books(The books already sold in rough climates)
A boat without oars and a large World Map that highlighted his lonely journeys.
His unfinished novel titled as 'The Abortion rights and a poor Eunuch'
dedicated to a Homeless.
*To Louis Armstrong for his beautiful song 'What a Wonderful World'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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We’re Simpatico
Me and my brother, we’re simpatico,
like-minded in drinking, like-minded
in poetry, compatible in paying homage
to Bacchanalian feasts, we share the
genes of DNA strands that make us
seek joy in metaphysical songs and
humourous parley
My brother hates McGonagall but love
Yeats, I love Victor Hugo and Hopkins
as of late I hate McGonagall also, he
created an atrocious limerick on the battle
of David against Goliath, since I am David
while the empire was Goliath who attacked
me living peacefully in my country
Willam Topaz McStupidall sang the praises
of the bully killing my kin in military rhymes
with love-beaming eyes that have poets say
they see thankful glares, I find that detestable
and joins my brother when he descries
weirdos with stupid rhymes…
poem by Margaret Alice (21 August 2009)
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Sale For Love
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With film...
Love is
Simply
Sale for
Today...
With T.V. film....
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With
Group sex...
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With
Story books...
Love is
Sale for
Today...
With
Poems and
Store yes...
Love is
Sale for
Today
With
Temple
Lovingely
For money...?
Sale for
Love
With love....? !
All ways
Simply sale
For love
Also sale?
For...
With
Today busy
And busness
World....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Farewell Address at the Argyle Hall
Fellow Citizens of Dundee.
I now must bid farewell to ye.
For I am going to London far away.
But when I will return again I cannot say.
Farewell! Farewell! to the bonnie banks o' the Silvery Tay.
Also the beautiful Hill o' Balgay.
And the ill fated Bridge o' the Silvery Tay.
Which I will remember when I am far away.
Farewell! to my friends and, patrons all.
That rallied around me in the Music Hall.
And those that has rallied around me to night,
I shall not forget when out of sight.
And, if I ever return to Dundee again,
I hope it will be with the laurels of fame.
Plac'd on my brow by dame fortune that fickle Jade.
And, to Court her favour I am not afraid.
Farewell! to every one in the Argyle Hall.
That has Come to hear McGonagall.
Recite, and sing, his Songs to night.
Which I hope will long be rernember'd when I'm out of sight.
Adieu to all my enemies that want to mock me when passing by.
But I excuse them for their ignorance and leave them to the most high.
And, once again, my friends, and enemies. I bid ye all good bye.
And when I am gone ye will for me heave a sigh :-
I return my thanks to my Chairman and my Committee,
For the Kindness they have always shown to me.
I hope the Lord! will protect them when I am far away.
And prosper them in all their undertakings by night and by day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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My first collection of poems was published by Bloodaxe Books, which was then a very new imprint.
quote by Helen Dunmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Adventure in the Life of King James V of Scotland
On one occasion King James the Fifth of Scotland, when alone, in disguise,
Near by the Bridge of Cramond met with rather a disagreeable surprise.
He was attacked by five gipsy men without uttering a word,
But he manfully defended himself with his sword.
There chanced to be a poor man threshing corn in a barn near by,
Who came out on hearing the noise so high;
And seeing one man defending himself so gallantly,
That he attacked the gipsies with his flail, and made them flee.
Then he took the King into the barn,
Saying, "I hope, sir, you've met with no great harm;
And for five men to attack you, it's a disgrace;
But stay, I'll fetch a towel and water to wash your face."
And when the King washed the blood off his face and hands,
"Now, sir, I wish to know who you are," the King demands.
"My name, sir, is John Howieson, a bondsman on the farm of Braehead."
"Oh, well," replied the King, "your company I need not dread."
"And perhaps you'll accompany me a little way towards Edinburgh,
Because at present I'm not free from sorrow.
And if you have any particular wish to have gratified,
Let me know it, and it shall not be denied."
Then honest John said, thinking it no harm,
"Sir, I would like to be the owner of Braehead farm;
But by letting me know who you are it would give my mind relief."
Then King James he answered that he was the Gudeman of Ballingeich.
"And if you'll meet me at the palace on next Sunday,
Believe me, for your manful assistance, I'll you repay.
Nay, honest John, don't think of you I'm making sport,
I pledge my word at least you shall see the royal court."
So on the next Sunday John put on his best clothes,
And appeared at the palace gate as~you may suppose.
And he inquired for the Gudeman of Ballingeich;
And when he gained admittance his heart was freed from grief.
For John soon found his friend the Gudeman,
And the King took John by the han',
Then conducted John from one apartment to another,
Just as kindly as if he'd been his own brother.
Then the King asked John if he'd like to see His Majesty.
"Oh, yes," replied John, "His Majesty I would really like to see."
And John looked earnestly into the King's face,
And said, "How am I to know His Grace?"
"Oh, John, you needn't be the least annoyed about that,
For all heads will be uncovered: the King will wear his hat."
Then he conducted John into a large hall,
Which was filled by the nobility, crown officers, and all.
Then said John to the King, when he looked round the room,
"Sir, I hope I will see the King very soon."
Because to see the King, John rather dreaded,
At last he said to the King, "'Tis you! the rest are bare-headed."
Then the King said, "John, I give you Braehead farm as it stands,
On condition you provide a towel and basin of water to wash my hands,
If ever I chance to come your way.
Then John said, "Thanks to your Majesty, I'll willingly obey."
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Edinburgh is my favourite city. We'll be doing a lot of children's theatre and galleries.
quote by Carol Ann Duffy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tay Bridge Disaster
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seemed to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem'd to say --
"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."
When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers' hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say --
"I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay."
But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And the passengers' hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov'd most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.
So the train mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o'er the town,
Good heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill'd all the people's hearts with sorrow,
And made them all for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav'd to tell the tale
How the disaster happen'd on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay.
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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