MA HEID

Authors Note: So far the only prize winning poem that I submitted to an Edinburgh literary festival and won an award for it This is the original Scottish version– could do with a few more of those

MA HEID

Ah’ve goat a hole in ma heid whur yon doctor drilled
Ah hud tae leave it tae the air, he didnae waant it fulled
Let thu light gang in, mak the darkness face aboot
If ye plug up yer hole, then the diel cannae get oot

Ah’ve goat a poultice oan ma arse, since ma bile burst
Ma foreheid got brandit, just cause Ah screamed an cursed
The poultice stays despite the smell, despite yon itch and burnin
Thu’re riddin me of evul; Yon thumb screws noow are turnin

Ah’ve got flail scars oan ma back; rubbed thum well wae salt
Thuve sayed that Ah donnae pray enough and it’s awe ma fault
Recant they said, repent they said, fill up wae grace and hope
For if ye willnae bow the knee, ye’ll surely feel thu rope

Ah wait ma execution, they’ve no forced me yet tae greet
nae a part o me that isnae sare, when Ah die is when Ah’ll sleep
Nae torture will coheres me, Ah’ll  hang ba ma ain rope
Ah spit on their religion, fuck thur god and fuck thur hope