Monday, 9 August 2010

The Life and Times of Vegetarian Haggis

Another avant-garde-esque title, or an aspiring one, and once again, no meaning behind it save for it's randomicity, which is plenty of meaning-without-meaning if you ask me.

While I've written my share of articles, poetry, novels, and short stories for my age, I have to say I find the satisfaction counter when it comes to articles to be low, while poetry, novels, and in some ways short stories, are at a height no article can aspire to. Not only are they less enjoyable to read, you finish them and feel no emotional sacrifice. The article I've just written below is one of those things. I come off it feeling like I haven't explained myself very well, and therefore wasted my time, words, and your time; or I feel like I got my point across, but the point seems very dull and unimportant.

Not that it's usually very good, but at least on an aesthetic level, I can usually come up with a few good lines of verse or poetry, with a few strange metaphors thrown in for good measure. That has more satisfaction, because it seems more appealing and fulfilling to the public eye.

Does this mean I'm ruled by the public? Or what I think the public (har har, all fifteen of them publics) want?

I wrote a very simple, and really very poor rhyme about Mary Queen of Scots. She's my favourite historical heroine of all time, and I greatly respect and admire her. The rhyme?

"Poor Mary, who loved
too freely for good,
Was used and abused
by the men of the world,
And killed innocently
by a cousin of blood,
She'll live in my mem'ry
as truly she should."

Then, in an even worse attempt, I wrote this jewel of literary loo:

Her mother was a queen frae France
her father James V.
She grew up and was soon orphaned
and shipped off far away.
When she came back she was 18
and already a widow;
It wasn't long till she fell in love
and then she had a baby.
Scotland rose against her then,
and she was forced to flee.
They locked her up, she tried to run
but then it was too late.
Her cousin foul with heart of stone
had her taken care of:
She braved the block, not 40 years old,
and woke up next in Heaven.



  1. Well my friend, J. William English - King of Scots, this is magnificent but I don't think I could bring myself to eat haggis. I just don't.

  2. Haha, well, Forsworn Sight, the vegetarian kind is good. That's the only kind I've tried, though, so I couldn't say much beyond that.