New years eve, (awe naw)

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New years eve, (awe naw)
By Hugh Hainey.

A mind the night a missed bein wae ma family in ma wee hoose it “Hogmany”
A went tae the toon tae meet up wie ma pals, bit a wis oot awe night and day,,
A went tae the “Dolphin bar” wae the Gallaghers, the Watsons, n’ the Mc Lears,
A never laughed so much in awe ma life, the patter wis like music tae ma ears,,
Hughie n’ Jolly Gallagher, playin the bones n’ singin, the drink gawn tae ma head,,
Winker, Eddie, Joe, Matt, n’ me, so pished, thit Winkers maw put is awe intae bed,,
We wur awe aboot fifteen ur sixteen it the time n’ next day we awe absolutely stunk,,
,Winkers wee brither James pished the bed, n’ guess who wis in the bottom bunk,,,
Hame the next day tae the face the music, n ‘ma wee maw wis gawn aff hur heed,,,
Ye know whit maws ur like, ” awe son where ye been? we awe thought ye wur deed,,
A remember that time is clear is day,, bit a also remember whit ma Maw hid tae say,,,
Nae matter where ye ur, ur, where ye stay, always git hame fur the bells, it “Hogmany”
Ye know a love tae spin these we tales fur ye ‘s awe n’ try ma best tae make thim true,,,
Bit ye see me a never done anythin like this afore n’ ma wee memories ur doon tae you,,
A try tae tell aboot ma time up in “Hamilton” wae humour, bit sometimes a just cannit,,,
Bit wan thing a dae know, “Hamiltonians” ur somae the best people oan this ” Planet”

(Awrra Best whin it comes,,,)

Don’t be Naff,,,,

Don’t be naff,,,,
Written for Historic Hamilton by Hugh Hainey,

D’ye mind the auld Hamilton Advertizer buildin’ doon in Campbell street?
Well, across the road thir wis a tattoo parlour, a thought thit it wis neat,,
Ma pals wur goadin me intae gittin wan, cause they awe hid wan ur two,
Bit, I’ll tell ye boy a wid never hiv done it if a knew then whit a know noo,,
A went in tae hiv a swatch’ n’ saw smashing drawins’ awe ower the place,
Thir wis a wee guy wae bottle glesses n’ tattoos oan his arms n’ his face,
He said, take a wee look through them books n’ tell is whit wan thit ye like,
“A hert wae mother? Superman? A Snake? ur a naked wummin oan a byke,,,
A big decision fur a boy o’ fourteen, aweright, that wan of the pirate a says,,
God ma erm wis goupin’ n’ a wis sweatin whin a looked through the haze,,
Whits that!! “a parrot” a said “a pirate ya numpty” where’s ma buccaneers,,,
A bet ye awe know exactly whit he said aye, “oan the side o’ yir buccanhead,,,,
A couple of days later ma erm swelled up, a dirty needle gave is a infection,,
Hairmyers, fur anither needle, bit a hid tae drope ma pants fur an injection,,,
So be wary, n’ tell awe yir kids n’ grandkids, no tae git a tattoo cause thir naff,,
Tell thim tae buy a Bazooka” n’ git wannnie them wans ye kin jist wash aff,,

(Bloody parrot)


Tall, Dark, n’ Handsome???.

Tall, Dark, n’ Handsome???.
Written for Historic Hamilton By Hugh Hainey.
A wish a wis in Hamilton wae ye’s awe tae celebrate this Hogmany”
A wish we could awe join hawns, n’ sing the wee songs of yesterday,,
A wish a could hear the piper play “Auld Lang Syne” just wance more,,
A wish a wis there tae see awe the schemes, come oot their front door,,,
A wish a could be somedaes first foot,fur a change, mibby “”Carol Boyd,,
A wish a wis Tall, Dark, n’ Handsome,, so thit she’ll no be too “annoyed,,,
A wish a could visit “Kit Frank Duddy’s hoose, tae look it his “poetry files,,
A wish a could look through his wee tablet box, n’ git sumthin fur ma piles,
A wish a wis it that bonfire in “Carnwath, singin songs fae days gone by,,
A wish a could but a cannie, cause a know “Garry” wid make me the guy,,
A wish fur Janet, Elizabeth, Betty, Wilma, n’ Elsie.all things that are good,,,
A wish fur each and everyone of them a happy n’ a magical “Seniorhood”
A wish awe the places that wur shut wae the cooncil, wur still open noo,,,
A wish but thir gone now,, except in the memories of people like me n’ you,
A wish a could meet up wae ma auld pals, though some ur dead n’ gone,,,,
A wish “Awrra Best” tae them still here, n’ the ithers, memories linger on,,,
A wish, n’ A wish, bit always wishin’ thit ma wishes wid somehow come true,
A wish thit most of all “2018,,, will bring the very best to everyone of you,,,,,,

First Foot
Picture courtesy of Visit Scotland.

Those were the days, “my friend”

Those were the days, “my friend”

The poem below was written for Historic Hamilton by Hugh Hainey.

Kin ye mind twiddlin’ that wee wheel tae git radio Luxemburg oan yir “trannies”
Ye hid tae be awfy quiet so is no tae annoy yir maws, da’s, granda’s ur grannies,,
A bet ye’s awe hid tae stie well clear ur go up the stairs right ootie thir way
A hid a wee earpiece n’ a stied up tae the last record, “At the end of the day”

Then came that pirate ship”Radio Caroline” a kin remember “rockin n’ reelin”
But ye still couldnae play that in the “big room”, cause yir da’ wid hit the ceelin’
Then that BBC brought oot a new station, kin ye mind it? that new radio wan,,
Wan day a tuned it intae the radiogramme, n’ that’s when the shit hit the fan,,
“Turn that shite aff” wur no hivin’ that shite oan there, we want the auld, no the new,,
Just name me wan song wae lyrics,, a said, Doo Wa Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo,,,(ouch)
But ye see back then thir wis a place in “Hamilton” that hid great music n’ dancin’,,
Fur two bob, ye could dance tae the bands, n’ if ye lumbered, git a bit o’ romancin,,,
The Trocaddero” Townhead St, “Big Dave Muir” always ran that place tae perfection,,,
Fae the “lollipop night” tae the “Ballroom” n’ that wee “Chris Mc Lure” n’ his section,,
Noo awe they years hiv turned intae decades, n’ fur me it’s comin’ tae seven,,
I’ll tell ye, I’ll no forget the “Troc”n’ people thit a met there, jist this side of heaven,,,
( ye know they say whit goes roon comes roon, n’ tae be careful whit yir daein’
haud oan, ma gransons playin he’s music, “turn that shite aff” well, am jist sayin’)

Whit ur ye like,

Whit ur ye like,

The poem below was written for Historic Hamilton by

Hugh Hainey.

Hi Historic Hamilton, ave bin thinkin aboot this wee story ye wrote, though it’s bin a while,
Its awe aboot the great Hamiltonians, n’ thir’ compassion, thits never went oot of style,
Others thit ur outsiders view us as hard is nails, n’ quite fond of just “ripping the piss” 
Bit, kin you tell me if thirs any ither place bit oan here thit ye wid see a great story like this,
A wee Hamilton guy wis found deed in his flat, n’ he wis destined tae be buried a pauper”
Then we heard the story of the people who rallied roon tae make sure he wis buried propper,
Jist thinking aboot those guys, thit gote the gither and then they turned the whole thing roon ,
Bit, am sure thit yil’ awe agree , thit Its no unusual for things like that tae happen in this toon”
Whit about awe the ither unsung heroes, awe the wans we know of bit’ thir story’s ur missin”
Ye awe must know of some thit wid help oot ithers though, they never hid a pot tae piss’ in,
wae hid it least wan neebhour’ thit wis alway’s there when a ” crisis” wid come tae the sreet,,
Ur the wan thit wid be there fur ye whin yir maw wisnae in, n’ they’d make ye somethin tae eat,,,,

( Unsung hero’s wur a very special kind, “Theresa Burnett” just sprung intae ma mind,,,)

Ur we there yit,,,



Ur we there yit,,,
The poem below was written for Historic Hamilton by Hugh Hainey.
Ur we there yit,,,
Well the days the day fur oor wee ‘mystery tour’ n’ here it comes, wur big bus,,
There it is, bit how that big green “Chieftain” gote here, thats a mystery tae us,
Wee awe shouted “where wae gawn driver” n’ he said the “seaside dis it matter”
Tell yir maw the bus over heated comin up the hill, n’ a need a bucket o’ watter,,
Ave done ma wee checklist, n’ it’s awe there ma trunks, towel, n’ buckit n’ spade,
Ma wee haversack tae go oan ma back, full of pop’ n’ peeces ma mammy made,,
Ur we there yit, whit time is it? Where ur wee gawn, bit the driver jist widnae say,,
Then he stopped n’ said “watch this look” n’ the bus went backwards up the brae,,
It’s Ayr, it’s Ayr, wur nearly there, we kin see the sea,, the driver said naw, sit doon,
Wur here, wur here, aye bit, where ur wae? “Yir in a lovely wee place cawed Troon”
We pulled up right it the seafront, thirs no many people, n’ the toon wis awfy quiet,,
The guy said git tae the beach, thirs hunners tae come, n’ git a spot afore the riot,,
Ma maw gote us settled in a nice wee bit, near the steps n’right up against the wa’
Right noo settle in, come n’ hiv a wee drink, ok,”taps aff” n’ ye kin hiv yir beach’ baw,
Playin’ fitbaw’ muckin’aboot, sand in ma toes, in ma hair, n’ comin oot ma ears,,
That day it the seaside wae ma maw n’ ma pals his stuck wae me awe these years,,,
A wee walk roon the toon, then a look roon the fair, awe sunburnt, if ye’d seen is
A pokey hat, a stick o’ rock, a wee glass of orange, n’ a fish tea shared atween is,
Back tae the bus, this time thirs nae fuss, cause the excitement it wisnae the same,
Awe a kin remember is ma maw sayin “wake up son”, yiv slept awe the wae hame,,,
( the best sleep ever,,

Hi Di Hi,,,


The poem below was Written for Historic Hamilton
By Hugh Hainey.
Hi Di Hi,,,
A remember workin fur the ‘Borough Cooncil’ in repairs n’ roofin,,
It wis a good wee job gawn roon the schemes’ apart fae the hoofin,,
Wee hid a wee hut doon Sempie St, thir wis jist me n’ ma big marra,,
Awe we needed wis in there, tools n’ ladders n’ oor big green barra,,,
A wee guy wid turn up wae yir chitties” wi whit ye hid tae dae that day,,
Me n’ big paddy wid git the big boggie” loaded up n’ there we wur away,,
We wur sent tae “Whitehill, a woman hid a big burds nest up hur lumb,,
Well, I’ll tell ye this boy”a wisnae ready fur the day thit we hid tae come,,
A wis up oan the roof, a put a steel baw n’ rope doon, it widnae budge,,
Paddy wis away tae the shop, a dropped it doon,,tae ge it a wee nudge,,
Wanie hur wains wis messin aboot n’ moved the cover fae aff the grate,,
Awe a heard wis screamin’ “ma hoose, ma hoose” whit an awfy state,,,
Sittin up there thinkin, it’s gawn fae bad tae worse, well it got badder,,
A gang of kids wur shoutin,”gie’s money ur we’ll chop doon yir ladder,,,
There’s me shoutin’ back doon F’ off, you, dae ye think thit am insane,,,
A didnae git the words oot ma mooth, it started pishin doon wae rain,,
There’ me stuck up there soakin’ “n’ a sore throat” fae shoutin fur help,,,
A wis swearin it the wains,, if a git back doon alive I’ll gie ye awe a skelp,,
Eventually theres Paddy back, should hiv heard him shoutin n’ bawlin,,,
A never heard a word he said, awe thit a heard wis “”Butlins Calling,,””
(HO DI HO,,,,)