Too Fuck To Drunk

There's A Workie In My House

Signs

The Rain

Hangover Poem #4: The Recovery

An Act of Kindness

A Love Letter to New York (Fuck This City)

For The Love Of Beer

Yes or No?

It seemed obvious to me at first
It was the rational choice
A realistic approach was required
And so I lifted my voice
And I said, no

I said no
Because a finite resource
Was no basis for a society
And the thought of a nationalist state
Filled me with anxiety
So I said no

But something chipped away
At the borders of my logic
An inescapable voice that repeated
Immutable and chronic
- 'What if?'

What if we could try to make things equal
What if we could level the playing field
What if we could live in a fairer society
What if the power of democracy was ours to wield

And deep down
Really, really deep
Under the layers of latent cynicism
I'm really a bit of an optimist anyway

My Scotland is speaking in a thousand languages

So I said, yes
Because when you say no
You're really giving consent
You're actually saying yes...

Yes to austerity
Yes to privatisation without debate
Yes to the dismantling of the welfare state
Yes to dwindling public investment
Yes to immigration policy that continues to harden
Yes to nuclear weapons in your back garden

Yes to whatever the fuck you want because folk just don't want to play anymore

And can you blame them?
Trampled by the legacy of governments
That ground down our resolve
Old Tories, New Labour
The wheels of power revolve
Endlessly without consultation
For any man, woman or child
Who dared cast a vote in anger
Who cared enough that they tried

My Scotland is tired of being ignored

So we have an opportunity
To change the rules of the game
To sack the archaic political classes
Oxbridge cunts, double-barrelled names
And I know it'll be a struggle
A socialist utopia won't be founded overnight
And the issues are grey not binary
But the facts are there in black and white

To say no is to accept things as they are
To say yes is to accept that things have gone too far
To say no is to wash our hands of responsibility
To say yes is to manage our own culpability
To say no is to validate a mandate
To say yes is to open up the debate
To say no is to honour the status quo
To say yes is to say no fucking more

My Scotland is overflowing with colour

The new Scotland I dream of
It's not insular or isolated
The country I want to build
Is open but complicated
This isn't a land of shortbread and tartan
Or other make-believe tourist tropes
This is a nation of multicultural promise
Of stoic determination and silent hopes
We are the most creative small country on the planet
Fuck your Brigadoon crap
We've got Turner prize winners coming out of our arses,
Mogwai and fucking Arab Strap

My Scotland is Sauchiehall Street on a Friday night

So when you vote
Do so with your heart firmly in the right place
Vote for what you believe in
And not because of Alex Salmond's stupid face
Because you know what – he does have a stupid face
But his stupid face isn't on the ballot paper
Vote for what you believe in
Do not allow your will to waver

My Scotland is in blue bags from the 24 hour shop

And I still get nervous about rising nationalism
This obsession with the currency of diesel
So fuck the fucking oil
Our economy should be our people
And we've get plenty to sort out, yeah
Sectarianism, employment and health
And it won't happen overnight
But a new Scotland is possible
If we trust we can do it ourselves

My Scotland is whatever I want it to be

My Scotland Is...

Poetry, rants, spoken words, songs, field recordings and general self aggrandizement.

Kevin P. Gilday