A Wee Poem

A poem by Kaila Patterson, age 16, Belfast

Take a Dander round the city,

Our home sites look fairly pretty,

Yet we use these turn of phrases,

Our dialect goes on for ages,

What’s The Craic, you’ll use a lot,

It’s probably Ninety if you’re not,

Your Mate may ask, How’s Your Ma?

You Know Yourself, How’s Your Da?

Think I came up the Lagan in a bubble?

Grab your Guddies, don’t start no trouble,

We say we’re Foundered when we’re cold,

We’re Scundered after we’ve been bold,

The Christmas Market has a Helter Skelter,

Your Man on there’s a Proper Melter!

Bloody Eejit, So He Is,

So I am and So I Did,

We’ll go for a Yarn and a Wee Poke,

See that car, isn’t that some Yoke?

When we’re stressed we’re Up To High Doh,

Is that right? Apparently So,

At’s Us Nai coming off the Westlink,

Use Your Loaf to have a think,

Here Be’s Me and Here Be’s She,

Anybody want a Wee Drop of Tea?

People often cry, Oh Mummy!

Wee Buns aren’t meant for your tummy,

Pass City Hall during your stay,

A Knuckle Sandwich means run away,

You can’t be a Chancer and a survivor,

Anybody looking to Lend Me a Fiver?

Catch Yourself On, you’ve got to Wise Up,

Quit Melting My Head and give me a cup,

We Belfast folk do love a wee tea,

Look, there’s the fella! What About Ye?

Go ahead, Big Lad, he’s proper class,

Hasn’t that Wee Girl a bit of sass?

I’m All Bizz for my Mate’s Mate,

Awk Mummy, it’s only half past eight!

The Big Fish hasn’t learned to swim,

Your Man’s Dead On, I know him,

He’s a Geg, won a hurley shield,

But was he born In a Field?

Our words don’t know what to do,

Belfast speech hasn’t much of a clue,

But while our sayings don’t always fit,

Our wee city Keeps Her Lit.

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