The Fabulous Destiny of Marked Accordingly

The Lowest Form of It

Thomas Clark — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 15:47:06 +0000

oh good afternoon
awfily goodiyeh tae droap by
waywur jist tokn aboot you
you inthi uthir foke thit usetay wurk here

whit time jicaw this ennywigh
you oan flexytime ur sumhin
didyi firget thi cloaks went forwird

ach well
zat you away awready
ah suppose its yer lunchtime by noo eh

its been grand seein ye again
ye should mibbay hinky pihtinin fur a joab here wan day
god knows wae could daeway thi help
inennywigh
yir here practikly ivry uthir day izzitiz

Ode to the Makeshift

Thomas Clark — Sun, 15 May 2011 18:55:46 +0000

Hail to the crooked rectangular goalposts
In the back gardens of Bellshill or Shotts,
God save the cutlery, salvaged like old ghosts,
Coke cans and chip pans and rusted-up pots;
Give me the shop on the council street corner,
Sticker guns sticking, apostrophe-mad;
Give me the house with the notes out to warn you
The fridge door is broken, the milk’s going bad.
Lives that are lived on the outskirts of glamour,
Shabbily gentle in Asda’s own brand,
Quotidian dreams in an everyday drama
Costumed by Tesco with props by Taiwan.
Well, fuck all your luxury, stuff your bone china,
Keep your conservatory, pull up the gate,
Cruise all your islands by yacht and by liner,
Charged to expenses at some “usual rate”.
So I was a kid and I saw something better;
Now I’m an adult and I’d rather not
Throw talk around of my credits and debtors,
Since everything owned is dishonestly bought.
No, here’s to the makers-do, cardboard box table,
Safety-pinned schoolbags and toothpaste-tube tan,
People who fail to do more than they’re able,
And screw all the folks who just do what they can.

Sing, Michael, Sing!

Thomas Clark — Wed, 11 May 2011 13:27:34 +0000

In the glade by the forest with the knot-knit tree,
By the bush with the nettles sings a bumblebee,
And the song that he buzzes sang by you or me
Would go hey and a ho and a hey-nonny-no,
With a hey-nonny-nonny-nonny-no.

I was taught by my masters how the world to dread,
And indeed when I looked for death I found things dead,
Though I passed through the lives of men and heard it said
That a hey and a ho and a hey-nonny-no,
With a hey-nonny-nonny-nonny-no.

Not at once, though I wished it, did the joyous noise
Of the clear-sounding bell of hope above me poise;
Still, I walked as I waited while some wise-faced boys
Went a hey and a ho and a hey-nonny-no,
With a hey-nonny-nonny-nonny-no.

Well, I saw that the storm that brings the tearing rain
Feeds the weeds in the garden and the low’ring grain;
With the day came a blessing and my heart would fain
Sing a hey and a ho and a hey-nonny-no,
With a hey-nonny-nonny-nonny-no.

Where there’s life, there is pain; well, I’ve often heard it told,
And in faith it is true, but the truth alone is cold;
Where there’s pain there is life, and so give us life to hold,
While a hey and a ho and a hey-nonny-no,
With a hey-nonny-nonny-nonny-no.

I have stopped by the river for my lute to strum,
And now that I’m waiting love is sure to come,
Love for me, love forever, love for everyone,
With a hey and a ho and a hey-nonny-no,
I sing hey-nonny-nonny-nonny-no.

On Finding Your Photograph

Thomas Clark — Fri, 06 May 2011 20:46:41 +0000

Here, as once you were, you are;
From frozen pasts your smile made young and new;
And diamond hope that shimmers like a star
Across the lakelit face of lovely you.

Though hearts around you fade, and faces age,
You have not grown old – not sun, nor spray,
Nor all the scraping winds can turn the page
Wherein your volume’s awe would date a day;

Instead enamoured Time has stolen back
From then to dreaming now with paint and brush
And adds to nature’s charm with age’s lack
A beauty shown more deep by lightest touch.

And years shall dwindle by, and days seem less,
My love will grow beside your loveliness.

Rudie Can’t Fail

Thomas Clark — Mon, 02 May 2011 15:14:17 +0000

Failure then was nothing worth the name,
An essay shoved in late; the rent unpaid;
A broken toaster bursting into flame
Whilst phones ring out unanswered. Truths not said.

Now gas and taxes take as they are due,
Hand the wallet in with photographs intact,
Turn the cycle onwards. The rules of revenue
Keep the money moving round economies of fact.

So thanks for that. His affairs are set in place.
Failure might have mattered. Now, though, nothing does.
The might have beens he’s seen have ran the race,
And heard his heartbeat settle to a buzz,

Of alarm clocks, razors, microwaved sachets,
Electric wires humming over trains,
The small talk in the carriage; the nasty haze
Of heat in empty places, empty brains.

He hangs from a strap as they all pull in
The trains that arrive with the staff and the mail,
And shoulder-to-shoulder he steps through the din,
For Rudie has no room to fail.

Point Well Made

Thomas Clark — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 11:08:57 +0000

gayboy

haw
gayboy

youra wee fuckn gayboy
byrihway

He Said, She Said

Thomas Clark — Sun, 27 Feb 2011 12:52:52 +0000

doakter jis geediz a row
seyz am still smoakin too much
well ah seyztayim
ah seyz
ahv already cut doon tae twinty a day
in he seyz
ahm afraid thahts no good enuff
so ah teltim
ah seyz
aye well youre no pine fur thim ur ye
youre no the wan hivvinty spend haff yer dole money oan fags
when its your money thits gittin spent
then ye can telliz whit taedae

well
that shutimup

The Hardest Word

Thomas Clark — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 13:56:37 +0000

oh yer sorry ur ye
well thahts awfy biggiyeh
ah mean
its no as if ahv telt ye a hunner times
its no like yiv done it afore

saw very well sain yer sorry noo
inav jisty kidon thirrits aw awrite
birritizny sun
its no awrite
in sain sorry dizny fixit

ah dont wahnty hear whit yiv goat tae say
its too late fur aw thaht
ahm no intrestit
jist oanyego upstayrs
goan
gihtootyma site

A Brush With Fame

Thomas Clark — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 08:53:12 +0000

here
zat who ah hinkitis
whits he dain here
he’s loaded izzy no
och it canny be
haud oan
al goan check

aye
it is him rite enuff
dizny look lykim though

Faux Pas

Thomas Clark — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 17:08:31 +0000

aye well ah didnae no thaht didah
naebdy teltiz ennihin
jeez oh

somedy coodae saez sumhin
ahm no a mind reader ye know
ahm no sykik

ah mean whit ye spose taedae
gaun aboot oan egg-shells aw yer life
scairt tae crack a smile

nut
nae dainjir
thahts no fur me