I started writing poetry when I was working in the warehouse and on the platform at the Royal Mail in Springburn. It was the winter of 2004-5 and I was in dire need of any sort of money. There was a lot of time waiting around and then hours of hard work in the cold. If it was below zero we got free soup. Anyway I decided to write a few poems to while the time away. The shift didn’t start until 4:30, so I had time in the morning to consider my work. The first one I’ve put up is the one best received, though it is not my favourite. It has been used in one school during the religion lesson. I don’t quite know what that means, but it is nice for any work to get an airing.
I wrote the poem after a particularly satisfying Celtic win. It just seemed to flow onto the screen. I’ve never had trouble writing – truth be told I have no idea what comes out of my brain until it’s there.
A Dog Named Shug by Gedboy
I had a dog
Its name was Shug
I bought it from a man
His nose was red
His team was blue
He sold it from a van
My dog had died
I missed it so
I had to fill the void
I looked at Shug
He looked at me
I thought of Tommy Boyd
I brought Shug home
I showed him round
I fed him bowls of meat
He barked he licked
He bit the wife
I thought him rather neat
I gave Shug walks
I threw him sticks
He frolicked in the snow
He seemed to be the perfect dog
So how was I to know?
He had a secret deep and dark
As black as any cave
For Shug was born down Govan way
He had no soul to save
The truth came out
One awful day
When kick off time drew near
For Celtic had been doing well
A good start to the year
Soon came the opening Rangers match
The telly was warmed up
I sat to cheer the mighty Hoops
With at my feet the pup
Shug loved me – so I just assumed
He also loved my team
But dark as any traitor’s heart
Were Shuggy’s thoughts so mean
The match kicked off
The fans all cheered
I shouted Up the ‘Tic!
Well Shug got up and growled at me
His jowls awash with spit
He bared his teeth
He shook his head
He dribbled on the floor
His bulging eyes were filled with hate
His mouth let out a roar
Shug just stared and barked at me
He looked like Richard Nixon
Mistakes like this I couldn’t make!
I’d bought Fernando Ricksen!
The match went on, shots came and went
The score it stayed nought – nought
Shug settled down – the spittle stopped
He thought the Celts were caught
He growled a bit from time to time
The second half flew by
It seemed the Gers would get a point
and leave with heads held high
But wait, what’s this? a final burst
And Thommo was the boss!
He trapped the ball as blue men closed
And set his sights on Klos
Now Shug could see the danger there
For Rangers it was bad
The Thompson gun was primed and cocked
We’d time to do it lads!
The shot was struck
It swooped and curved
Klos tried to grab thin air
The ball whizzed by
The net it bulged
I screamed with not a care
But Shug got up
his face all puce
and maddened by this farce
He lunged at me
Mouth flecked with foam
And bit me on the arse
I cried in pain
And threw him off
But he prepared to jump
He’d tasted blood
He wanted more
A juicy Timmite rump
He dived – I ducked
He got it wrong
The window wasn’t shut
My head he missed by just a hair
My flat is ten floors up
So out the window Shuggy went
For fortune can be hard
I thought I heard his dying bark
Before he hit the yard
I’m sure I heard his final cry
He fell like Humpty Dumpty
We arra people! Fenian clown!
1-0 ya canine numpty!
I’ve got a cat now Shug has gone
Goes by the name of Tim
Its fur is green, its eyes are white
It’s sleek and smart and slim
It sits with me to watch the games
It purrs and gets a cuddle
My feline chum who loves the kids
And always does the Huddle
If there’s a moral to this tale
It’s ‘look before you leap’
And pick a team the fans all love
For loyalty is cheap
I’m sad Shug’s gone
But life is tough
For some it’s just a slog
If Celtic isn’t in your heart
For you it’s dog eat dog.
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