There’s a pub of great renown at the back of Forfar town
Where my auld pal Jock MacAuley did his drinking.
Finest whiskeys were on sale, and the best McEwan’s ale
For a score of miles diameter, I’m thinking.
Now the folks from far and near kent it as The Volunteer
And the ambience inside was always jolly;
But they tarted-up the place till you wouldnae ken its face,
And they hung outside a sign which said “The Volly”.
Margaritas on demand where it was once spit and sand;
Where was squalid comfort, now it’s clean and tidy.
Fresh ciabatta on a plate, where you could get served, of late,
With a gravy-brimming guid auld Forfar bridie.
Auld Jock treated his catarrh with a fag, inside the bar
Where he drank his hauf an’ hauf, and altogether
We would sing and laugh and joke, as we all breathed in his smoke –
Now he smokes outside and braves the Angus weather!
It’s enough to make you sick that from Gretna up to Wick
All the pubs we loved have gone to rack and ruin.
It would break hard drinkers’ hearts to see all the chavs and tarts
Sup their cocktails through the chewin’-gum they’re chewin’.
I saw Jock the other day and his face was ashen grey –
With six cans of lager that he’d bought at Tesco –
Sadly walking, after dark, down to Forfar Country Park,
Where he does his serious drinking now, al fresco.
So come all you drinkers bold who love ale that’s cellar-cold
And spit on this monument to landlords’ folly.
Bring your cans and drink with me in the graveyard, where we’re free
From the stench of Hugo Boss down at the Volly!
Author notes
The pub in this poem is ficticious . Apologies to the REAL Volunteer in Forfar which, as far as I know, resembles in no way the pub in this poem, and whose patrons thoroughly recommend it, I'm told. If anyone has serious objections to this poem, which is meant in fun, let me know and I will remove it.
The poem is a regular-metred triquatrain. I have used as little Scots as I can get away with.
In a list
- Laugh, willya! • next in list
- Wee yellow vases • next in list
- Scotland • next in list
- Bad Salads! • next in list
A contest entry
- Invite Only #8 by Laura Lamarca.
1950 points, ended March 15, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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There's another Volunteer, in a toon not far from here
Which was built next to a chapel, now demolished
And a tale I heard thus ran: it was called the Vatican
A wondrous name to many, highly polished
And now it's just the 'V', it's as lonely as can be
With its panelled pine, and sofas set in leather
But on lonely nights they say, you can hear the vespers stray
The prayers and the responses, sung together.
You wouldnae believe this, but I've been in the very Forfar Volunteer you mention, (many years back). And the one I've mentioned here, though it's identity should best remain a secret.
This is very well deserving of the gold trophy. Laugh?
I very nearly bought a round!
Best Wishes. K.
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Mines's a hauf'n'hauf.
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One of a Kind!
This must have been not just fun, but also a lot of work and serious creativity: I know creativity comes by inspiration, but the editing and rewriting is always the key to good poetry, hence this is fine work and great effort... the message, by the way, is not lost: I have sadly noted all the "good spots" for drink and fellowship are vanishing with the modern and ugly Plastic~Fantastic consumer culture that sure murders our muses... DW
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It had better be one of a kind, because I'm a marked woman in Forfar now - and I have friends over there! The challenge here was to create a triquatrain, and once I had found a regularity, it lent itself to a semi-serious "Come-all-ye" type of ballad.
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Wow!!
Hard to pick favorite pieces for the entire tale flowed like the ale
Loved this!!
Yep~~Brilliant this is
Holy Moly and what a piece penned~~
Congratulations on Your Trophy win!
-Throws confetti-
Woooooooooo Hoooooooooooo
Thank You for sharing Your Heart and Spirit~
Many blessings to You in all You do Sweet Soul
Best wishes too
and much love~ Desire~*~
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(I think she liked it)
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Thank goodness you won this contest. Now I feel OK about being driven out of it. As I said before, this poem is amazing and pure genius.
Love,
Amera♥
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Och no. It's a hale load o' nanesense, lassie!
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great one, now all that's left is to hire a narrator- straight off the loading piers...!
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If you find one, let me know.
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Lane summed this write up to perfection...it's genius. Form is spot on and the content is superb. I have Scottish friends who I havent seen in a while and using the accent to read this out loud brought some happy memories back to me. I've read it quite a few times now and my initial and lasting response each time is the same --->
Thanks for entering and good luck in the judging.
Laura x
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Well it was a form I hadn't tried before, and you gave it to me. So it's all your own fault
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When you've penned as well as this...taking the blame is my privilege. Now I feel truly honoured
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oh this is genius! I adore the way this lovely poem begins - my favorite kind of poetry is the kind that tells me a story or pulls me into another world. You have done both, and I thank you very much. Love, Lane
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Lane, NO ONE has ever used the G-word about me or my work. I am honoured.
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Dear Mairi
This was a lot of fun to read. I guess it was a lot of fun to write as well!
John-USA
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Nah. It wiz a heid-ache fae beginnin' tae end!
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Oh dear sister! I love this! The rhyme, the meter, the vocabulary and the wonderful image. You have told a tale by painting pictures in my mind. Bravo!
Love,
Amera♥
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If I can please you, sis, then my day is complete!
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You are a serious nut!
And this is seriously good and nutty, great (mis)use of the form and a hugely good start to an afternoon's work!
Now if Laura can come up with an intelligent way to mark this contest she's a better man that I am etc etc...
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Well, it's actually a form that pre-dates Huntsman, and as it has been used by W S Gilbert and Spike Milligan (not in collaboration) I didn't see any harm in pressing it to cause of levity. I think Laura should simply throw us all up into the air and see who bounces. There's no other way.
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