Lyin laich in Darkley

Abane twa thoosan deid, an mair,
Whut-fur thair bluid keels grun an flair?
Whiles, blame is pit on civil laws,
An them yins wae religious cause.
- Tha answer lies in Darkley.

Tha maist hairtscald is fur wor ain.
Hunnèrs apiece, whun coontin’s daen.
But aa it taks is jist tha yin.
A gye close freen, or wife or sin.
- Wha’s freens o them in Darkley?

Religion, on its heid maun be
Tha trigger-pu’in finger’s glee,
Tha lach ahint each “Trick or Trait”,
Tha wrangs at brocht aboot sich hate,
- An sput it oot in Darkley.

If you cud yock tha Man Abane,
An ax him if He cud explain,
Whit dairkness lees ahint it aa?
He’d tak ye tae a Mission Haw,
- An show ye graves in Darkley.

Abane twa thoosan yeir, or mair,
A lang whiles bak, but jist as sair,
Religion, langl’t wi tha deil,
Tuk Innocence intae a fiel,
- Tae slauchter like in Darkley.

Sae grave whaur bes yer victorie?
Whut price is bocht identitie?
Ye neednae gan tae foreign lans,
Or leuk it up in buiks or plans,
- Tha answer lies in Darkley.

Ayont tha Knowes

Ayont thonner an thon.
Ahint tha halie knowes.
A plunnèr through a lann o draims,
Tae fin,
Whaur hairtsome gledness growes.

Abane aa thochts o threaps,
Amang tha leevin past,
A lan o leevin mem’ries bricht,
Oul times,
New catched, micht langer last.

Atween tha nicht an day.
Awa fae wun an rain.
Afore tha weechil in me growes,
An lees
Me coul an haird as stane.

Awa fae wechtie cares,
Ayont sich warldlie hell,
Tha hamely lan is haird tae fin,
No lake
Tha yin we big oorsel.

Amang tha hairtsome crack.
Aroon tha apen hearth.
“Ye niver know tha minute, hae”,
Quo he,
A freen lang deid on earth.

A place A knowed sae weel,
A heerd tha hamely tongue.
Sich sichts an soons fae lang ago,
Gars me
Hae mind o whut A fun.

Ayont thonner an thon,
A cudnae thole it lee,
Tha mair thon lan’s ahint tha veil,
A’ll hunt,
Fur mair afore A dee.

Alba and Albania

Boneybefore's frae whaur A'm cum,
Ma hamely hairth wae rid breek lum.
Nae mine A hae o fechtin drum,
Agin tha breesht.
Na, hairts wus lairnt tae saftly thrum,
An houl oor wheesht.

Oul-farrant nichts an stane-waa ruins,
Freats ma een catched mair nor aince.
Luxemburg! Boys! A fistlin newance,
In waffs o soon.
Duntit breeshts wae juke-bax boomins.
Braw nichts in toun.

Willicks hoaked frae roak an wrak.
Marlies, cheesers an fairm-hoose crack.
Mair lake The Waltons nor a boadie cud tak.
But unco shune, hae.
Slonks an dykes lept aye wud brak,
Winkle-picker's tae.

"Kang an Kintra" no lang in thocht.
In pews, a Kang abane wuz socht.
Elvis an Country recairts bocht,
Nae flegs aboot.
Bricht kiltie ban'? Na, no owre ocht.
Tha heicht, A doot.

Frae keeks syne catched o ithers warls,
No yin bit oors, nae pritta farls.
But fechtin heidyins, reekin barls,
As yins sees iz.
Warl ill divid whaur war aye birls,
Frae poortith riz.

Wee Fergies in a lang crouse raa,
Vintage trayctors pit on a dra,
Puein wi horses gien iz mair gra,
Fur days lang syne.
Kosovo trayctors tha yin nicht A sa,
Oul-tyme in line.

Ticht wee Serbs, tha peep-o-day clan.
Mooslim dissenters, black-moothed an thran.
Papish Croatians bigged thair ain laun,
"Thirteen an Echtie-Nine".
Weemin girnin owre deid guidman,
Wrangs aye in mine.

Waas a-tummlin gart turn ilk heid
Weans flittin, in scunners, an brithers deid
Grannie hapt in a barra, alang wi tha breid
Nae catter ava.
Da, stour tae stour. Nae succeedin leid?
Haud on tae Allah.

O God o Balkans, by whase han,
Is mate gien til sic thrangs o thran?
Thrie warls, thrie leids, in yin wee lan,
Thrie gods or Yin?
Wha cud crusade agin whilk ban,
Whun on tha rin?

"Bal'albana's whaur A cum fae",
Tha very thing A heerd him say,
This ethnic haun o Larne yin day,
(Whaur A wus boarn).
Blinnin tha slonks on ilka brae.
Hairt o Alban coarn.

A thocht A seen him yinst agane,
Thon wee auld man frae bak abane,
Hirplin Kosovo braes his lane,
Tha gate tae bield.
Hiein frae his hairth an hame,
Wae heirskip skailed.

Yit Boneybefore's whaur A cum frae,
Tha spairk o aa tha thochts A hae.
Whun aa bes owre, wha wudnae spae,
Micht's aye tha thing.
Sae historie taks nae tent theday,
O a weefella's spring.

Alang tha Shore

A hae mind whun we wur weans,
A guid nicht’s spoart wus cloddin stanes.
Oor playgrun wus alang tha shore,
Wat roaks tae clim an sprachle owre.

Tha batthrie waa, whun tides wur in,
Oor changin place afore we swum.
Tha roaks an saun whun tides wur oot,
Wae wreck an willicks skail’d aboot.

We’d fish fur blockan mang tha wreck,
Or coup a boulder on it’s bak.
Thon sudden licht gart hoochin stairt,
Or whiles a crubbin’s claas wud pairt.

But then we growed intae oor teens,
Wae chasin hizzies mair tha scene.
We left tha shore tae hunt inlann,
Roon Toon-Haw daunce an chippie van.

An sae tae ast yin oot a date,
In picthur-hoose, boys! bak-raa sate!
Sich tangl’t bakes lake limpets clamp’t,
Til lumberin twa’s tha torchie damp’t.

An then afore we knowed tha score,
Gaun steadie tuk iz far frae shore.
Tha mair we’d whiles waak han-in-han,
Alang some ither streetch o lan.

It’s jist in later years, A doot,
Whun oul an daen, an niver oot,
Tha thocht o willick-hoakin weans
Wull tak me bae tha shore mae lane.

An even whun A’m rannèrin,
Jist in ma heid gan dannèrin
Amang tha roaks whaur we wud hide,
A’ll watch tha last, laich even-tide.