The Geordie
Ahm gannin hyem
Heading te tha Toon
Back up te Newcastle
I'll see yee very soon
Ahm gannin hyem
Back up te the North East
Where the black an white
Stripes will never cease
Te colour me heart
The Scouser
I stood by de dock and
Watched de tourists snap photos
Wi' John Paul George and Ringo
Back in Liverpool breath'n in
De scouse air where
Matthew street still buzzes
Wi' the Mersey beat and
Everyone greets yous
Like a long lost friend
Alright there soft lad?!
Ain't seen yous a long time!
Go 'ead yous been away awhile
But yous can never pretend
Yer didn't miss de 'Pool
Liver a little, with a lorra
Time to smile
The Yorkie
It's grim up north they seh
neva a blue sky or sun shining day
it's grim up north cowd win' ont' moors
An' faces wrapped up against t'weather
Yet betta off indoors
But t' truth is anythin but grim
In god's own country
Where folk grin 'n bear it 'n grin 'n share
Their warmth an' kindness an'
Open their doors an' hearts ta thee
Aye it may be parky
Aye t' sky may be grim
But i' Yorksher the folk will always welcome
Tha with a pot o' tea an' a warmin grin.
The Brummie
Second city we am
an' we ain't full of bull
but full of alrooight bab
i'm alrooight, 'oo abart yaouw?
Venice of the north a web of canals
in every which way
layers of history
shapin' the present day
with asalaam wa'alaikum
with wagwan
with jak się masz,?
with aap kaise him?
with ni hoa ma?
the heart of england
begins in the language
of the Brummie
And the heart o'Birmingham
The Scot
Ah staun oan tap o' a munro
the world at mah feet
spread far 'n' wide
to a distant golden beach
it wis a fair rare day
the sky crossed with saltire cloud
Against a sky o' Scots blue
and th' sun wis beating down
on a man who was
lost in thought 'n' the
wonder o' it all
if ainlie they fellows cuid see this
from beyond yonder Hadrian's Wall
for aye scootlund is bonnie
aye scootlund is whaur ah ca' home
aye scootlund haes mah heart
and aye, ah kin ne'er far tae roam
The East Ender
Me tea tastes o' the Thames
Me bus goes by the Queen's gaff
The pigeons all coo in Cockney
And chuckle at the traffic stacked
Nose ter tail ter sirens wail
A constant night and day
And me 'eart skips a beat
When Saturday comes and
The 'ammers 'ave a London Derby day
Against the posh brigade
Over in the west,
Them Chelsea Tractors,
We're gonna bulldoze 'em
Show 'em that East is best
I work hard all week
Sippin' me tea that tastes o' the Thames
Waitin' for the 3pm kick off roar
Let's 'ammer them
And start the game.
The Westie
Ere, arite me luvver
A proper job you've done
Got the garden looking lush
Ee's a boot, right on
I'll sort yer money dreckly
Before it gets too dimpsey
Glad we got the teddies in
Yep, that's the badger for me
Twas a time backalong
I grew a gurt load of veg
But since me back tent right
I can only prune a hedge
So ta muchly again me'ansum
You've got the garden looking the biz
Time to welcome the grockles back
Holiday season's on again, oh yertiz!
The Manc
Put kettle on
I'm gaggin for a brew
Kid's been mithering me all day
Skrikin and arguing, making a right old ballyhoo
Me oldest's got a cob on
Ee's been in a real old strop
Me heads in biscuits right now
I'm well tired I can tell ya me old cock
I'll tell ya what it is right
He needs to give his head a wobble
And pull his angin' keks up or
He's gonna be in a world o'trouble
I'm dead serious
We'd only just got back from the Ribble
Lovely family day out
But got home to a visit from the Dibble
Turns out some of his bessies
Nicked a motor the other day
And he cadged a lift to the beach
Daft apeth's only risking being put away
And throwing away a future
He's been sound recently at school
But being gormless will get him nowhere
Except locked up for being a tool
He got away with a caution
Coz his bessies didn't dob him in
Said he were innocent right
And didn't know it were stolen
It's been a bit bobbins lately
And I hope this trouble gets sorted and fettled
But for now he's grounded on water and jam butties
Ere, I'm gaggin again, come on refill that kettle
The Norn Iron
Met a bloke
In the pub last night
Spinning a yarn
Great banter, wee jokes
He was pure steamin'
And enjoying the craic
He disappeared to the gents
And never came back
So I made my way home
The weather was boggin
I was pure foundered and shiverin'
As I dandered and the night rolled in
Over a chilly Belfast Lough
But like a complete eejit
I'd not brought my coat
I stood gurning as the waves
Mocked and plundered the shore
Ha waves, come take a look at this bloke
Yous lookin a wee bit scundered
It's pure Baltic the night
Ah houl yer whisht
I yelled out in fright and
Shouted at the sea
Catch yourself on!
Wind yer neck in!
And leave me be!
Bout ye? Said the moon
Glimpsed in a break in the cloud
Heading home Mr Moon
Aye keep er lit big man
And dare be so loud
There's people sleepin'
Here's ma wha! They'll grumble
When they're awoke
By some eejit faffin about
Frozen cold as a poke
I did enjoy reading your poetry about the English, Scots, Yorkshire, Liverpool... So brilliant!