Manifesto, by Maggie Mackay

Every slave is a person

with a name, a story, a dream.

Elsa is a hostage exploited

to keep her parents in servitude. 

Kofi is forced to fish all day,

dive into danger, below fraught lake waters.

Benjamin spends his childhood making bricks.

They dream of school, of making friends,

of mums, dads, brothers and sisters under one roof.

Safe is a fairy-tale word, love a thing of magic. 

..

‘We have no slaves in Scotland…’ This was the conclusion of a 1687 case concerning a travelling showman and a performing gymnast he’d ‘acquired’. It was the first time a Scottish court had rejected slavery. Now, thanks to the work of Alan McLean QC, composer Tom Cunningham and novelist Alexander McCall Smith, the story has been turned into an operetta. Here, the creators discuss their project and explain why the story still matters today.

Slavery in all Shapes, by Maggie Mackay

The tumbling lassie is what they call me.
I’ve no other name. I’m a little girl.
My joints are stiff with dancing,
in all shapes on the stage
at Mr Reid’s travelling show.
He oils them every day.
Tumble, tumble,
three hundred and thirty years ago.
Look hard, look twice now
at the car wash lads and nail bar lassies.
Look hard, take a tumble, give shelter,
for forced labour they may be
and under Scotland’s law
we have no slaves. I was made free.

..

Maggie Mackay, a jazz and whisky loving poet with an MA from Manchester Metropolitan University, has a range of work online and in print, including the recent #MeToo anthology. In 2017 her poems were nominated for The Forward Prize, Best Single Poem and the Pushcart Prize. Her first pamphlet will be published by Picaroon later this year.

http://www.tumblinglassie.com/about-the-tumbling-lassie

Butcher by Maggie Mackay

The green bus arrives for us

at the end of that two-year siege

which left us compressed

like metal into cubes.

 

For hours, for days,

we shake-jerk,

as the bus snakes toward

the Rashideen checkpoint.

 

There, our children, restless for air,

clamber down on to parched earth,

play tag, kick a punched football,

hum lullabies we taught them at bedtime.

 

A cluster run towards the truck,

ice cream and sweets offered as treats,

beside it a solitary car explodes.

Humpty Dumpty shatters.

 

Eggshell flesh, runny yolk.

The ooze of childhood has us floored.

 

 

Maggie Mackay has completed her Masters at Manchester Metropolitan University. Her work can be found in a variety of print and online publications including The Everyday Poet, Ink, Sweat and Tears, The Interpreter’s House, Prole, as well as Beautiful Dragons and Three Drops Press anthologies and Indigo Dreams Publishing magazines. Her work will appear in Atrium at Halloween and in Amaryllis in June. The latter’s editor has nominated her poem ‘How to Distil a Guid Scotch Malt’. for The Forward Prize, Best Single Poem 2017.

5 July 1948 by Maggie Mackay

Hold on, hold on Aneira, youngest of seven,

and first born in a hospital. Hold on

for the midnight strike, to be firstborn,

to be named for Bevan, on the first day of the NHS.

We didn’t have the shilling and sixpence before,

don’t need it now. Down with charges.

Universalise the best. Do no harm, Mr Hunt.

 

Maggie Mackay, a Scottish lover of jazz and a good malt, is in her final Masters year at Manchester Metropolitan University. She has work in print and online including The Everyday Poet edited by Deborah Alma,Amaryllis, Bare Fiction, Indigo Dreams Publishing, The Fat Damsel, The Interpreter’s House, Prole, I am Not a Silent Poet, The Poetry Shed, Three Drops Press and Indigo Dreams Publishing.

Interview with Maggie Mackay by Debasis Mukhopadhyay

I have an unapologetical love for political poems. And I always expect to find a creative distinction & intensity in those poems. I first read Maggie MacKay on IANASP :  “I slave in his kitchens,/ my belly fired after him rape mi in the scullery/ like I was his peaberry fruit./ His boasts ride on fiddle jigs into the valley/ where my baby sleeps.” (Jamaican Macabre) I immediately liked her brutally honest voice & her clever way with words & sounds. At that point of time, I didn’t know the editor of IANASP would run a Poet’s Interview series & I would have the privilege & honor to ask her a few questions about her writing. And working on that project gave me the wonderful opportunity to discover more of her work. Maggie has published in various print and online publications, including A New Manchester Alphabet, Bare Fiction, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Prole, The Interpreter’s House, Indigo Dreams Publishing & Three Drops Press. Much of her work is poured from the soul of someone who feels “a clot inside [her] vein,/ a black-blue spiral of onyx;/ at the nucleus, blood-drenched strokes of fire.” (Flare – Ink, Sweat & Tears) While that clot in her writing remains my favorite, I am especially taken with her unflinching voice which is always & always sharply chiseled : “I pass the Tito’s high-rise housing, bullet-blasted/ in perfect circles of terror, the full height of babies’ cots,/ breaching homes where generations dwelled together;/ mothers still hang shirts and nappies, in lines on balconies.” (Restoration After War – Words Bohemia 2) Another good example from Flare (Ink, Sweat & Tears) : “This skin is new to me./ I slur a name – might be mine –/ gulp a balloon of air/ as I roll on the edge/ of another squall-storm.” Like all good poets Maggie seems to be always conscious of the fact that her writing needs to be kicked about to stay alert. And that makes the political blade of her poetry so delicious. Just look at these beguiling lines that hijack our soul facing with today’s terrifying reality of the refugees : “I am ripples, motionless,/ swamped by water, lifted by brother./ I am girl watching home wash away again, again/ Do you have a boat?/You are of no use to me.” (Bereft – Writers for Calais Refugees Anthology). Maggie is certainly one rising poet from Scotland to watch closely with excitement.

 

Can you tell us a little about yourself?

I’m a retired support needs teacher and live on the east coast of Scotland. I returned to writing seven years ago, beginning with the Open University where I grew into poetry. Then with a push from my tutor, I enrolled with Manchester Metropolitan University on the Masters degree where I’ve been enjoying the experience. I like to travel, family history and live cultural events.

Why do you write? What does poetry exactly accomplish for you?

I get so much from expressing my emotions and remembrance of others through the written word is important to me. It’s so absorbing to play with language and share ideas with the community of poets. And when I’m told a poem has had a profound effect on a reader, that’s such a thrill.

Can you tell us about your work habits?

I aim to write every day. I close read other poets too. And as often as possible I critique my fellow writers’ work.

Do you like to work under constraints, literary or others?

A deadline works well for me. Or a project which stimulates the imagination.

Please tell us about the making of your poetry. Where do your ideas come from? Are there certain elements of your life that play a major role in your work? If yes, how does life bend with poetry & what is the usual incubation period between the lived experience & the moment of writing?

I focus on family history, events of significance, the effect of loss, enduring relationships. My ideas can be influenced by something which happened within the last 24 hours or 100 years ago. I like a title to inspire me or a project which focuses the mind.

Where did your interest in poetry begin?

At school and then, more recently, after retirement Often a poet’s performance enriches my interest.

What is the impact of other poets on your work, if any?

I investigate technique, form, use of white space and clarity in others’ poetry. John Glenday, Jane Kenyon, Les Murray, Neil Rollinson, Marie Howe and many others.

How do you “think the world” through & in poetry?

I explore sensory imagery, read political debate and tap emotion.

What makes you write poems like Bereft, Media Demons, The Ochils, Jamaican Macabre, The Silence of Shock, etc. published in IANASP? According to you what is the hardest things about writing protest poems or poems of witness?

I look to embed conviction without preaching. It’s getting the tone right and being clear about what I want to say.

What is reading for you? What kind of things do you usually read? And who are you when you are reading a (literary) text, a reader or a writer?

I read lyrical poetry. I am both.

When is your book/chapbook/pamphlet coming out?

I’m working on my Masters portfolio at the moment.

How can readers find more about you & your work? (website/blog/social media)

Check out websites – Ink, Sweat and Tears, Three Drops From a Cauldron, Marie Lightman’s wonderful websites on refugees and prejudice, The Lake and Northwords Now amongst a number of publications. Print press too – e.g. Bare Fiction., The Interpreter’s House, Obsessed with Pipework, Prole.

Indicators of Austerity by Maggie Mackay

A severity of manner towards the voiceless,

holes in worn out safety nets,

the late bus, appointment missed,

‘no show’ recorded,

poverty premium on energy meter,

ten blue fingers, painted with frost,

a cold box of food,

smuggled tin of the rich man’s salmon:

marked ‘ideal items for a food bank ‘

(mind to include tins of wartime Spam),

red vouchers as payment,

the collapse of a carer,

zero hours contract, zero hours this week

or forced redundant after long service,

surveillance by state vigilantes,

worsening coughs and troughs,

death, death of the present,

wage-less, tearful pleas, benefit delay,

a casting out

by the unyielding wealthy,

cashless, penniless – man, mind thyself,

the survival of the fittest,

existence.

..

Maggie Mackay is a brave-hearted Scot and a final year MA Poetry student at Manchester Metropolitan University. She has work in various print and online publications, including A New Manchester Alphabet, Bare Fiction, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Prole, The Interpreter’s House, Indigo Dreams Publishing and Three Drops Press.

The Silence of Shock by Maggie Mackay

Students, all women in our freshest years,

we settled on landings with mugs of tea,

never thought to lock our doors,

and, late into the night as Sweet Baby James

floated up the stairwell, we gossiped, fell out,

time -shared bedrooms for lover trysts.

 

Then she disappeared,

that girl of the fiery perm and Scouser sound.

We wondered in the silence.

Her space filled over

like a river after extreme rainfall.

 

I imagined her walking back after drinks at the Union,

in her silk halter neck and corduroy flares,

humming Joni Mitchell in her head,

caught in a clutch, dragged into a flowerbed,

calling for her Mum.

 

We stopped walking alone.

We avoided the garden. Then we forgot.

..

Maggie Mackay is a brave-hearted Scot and a final year MA Poetry student at Manchester Metropolitan University. She has work in various print and online publications, including A New Manchester Alphabet, Bare Fiction, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Prole, The Interpreter’s House, Indigo Dreams Publishing and Three Drops Press.

Jamaican Macabre by Maggie Mackay

It will be my pleasure to poison Mr Rae

as him eats in the Great House.

The fools, Lord Belmore and Sir Willoughby Cotton

dance the Creolian hop a la Mustee.

 

I slave in his kitchens,

my belly fired after him rape mi in the scullery

like I was his peaberry fruit.

His boasts ride on fiddle jigs into the valley

where my baby sleeps.

..

Maggie Mackay is a brave-hearted Scot and a final year MA Poetry student at Manchester Metropolitan University. She has work in various print and online publications, including A New Manchester Alphabet, Bare Fiction, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Prole, The Interpreter’s House, Indigo Dreams Publishing and Three Drops Press.

The Ochils by Maggie Mackay

They tell me Wayne, Stacey

and other bolshie bairns are waiting

for me in the teaching hut.

 

The class, named after a range of hills,

(so they would feel special)

kicks at the floor, chew gum.

Sean wobbles against the wall.

At least one teacher’s been tumbled down scree.

 

We face each other in a horseshoe of chairs,

no jotters or pens. They stare in puzzled quiet.

 

In June their music teacher tells me

‘You’re doing something right.

I’m giving them guitars again.’

..

Bio: Maggie Mackay is a brave-hearted Scot and a final year MA Poetry student at Manchester Metropolitan University. She has work in various print and online publications, including  Ink, Sweat and Tears, Prole, The Interpreter’s House and Three Drops Press.

Media Demons by Maggie Mackay

Behold

the avalanche of hunger in the Med

bellies sore, babes’ thirst, stunned stares

hunger for an English speaking land

..

Behold

the mirage of homecoming on beat-up coastlines

confinement in our brave new camps

repression thick-embedded in our tabloid puns

undertones, careless talk they deserve their fate

the terror of the poor, the smugglers’ greed

..

Behold

the mob mouths pay your way, we pay too much tax

ten pounds to see a doctor? thirty six to feed a refugee?

Beware stories. Don’t believe all you read:

roamers without papers living off the state

scapegoat innocents. workers from the world’s ends,

evaders of all sorts, Brits in the mix

..

Behold

the sick and old, the arrhythmic heartbeat

where’s your wheelchair, then?

the shirkers, the baffled, the losers, you

the neighbour’s cold smile, the insult in the street

how do we pay for all this?

Shylock’s cry, do we not bleed, the human race.

..

Maggie Mackay, a Scot with wanderlust, a love of jazz and a good malt, has published in Still Me…(www.pewter-rose-press.com), winner of the Writers’ Circle Anthology Award 2014, with work in various publications including Open Mouse, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Bare Fiction, The Interpreter’s House ,Obsessed with Pipework, Prole, I am not a Silent Poet, The Screech Owl and Three Drops in a Cauldron and forthcoming in The Linnet’s Wings. She is a second year MA student at Manchester Metropolitan University, and a co-editor of Word Bohemia (www.wordbohemia.co.uk)

Bereft by Maggie Mackay

I am ripples, motionless,
swamped by water, lifted by brother.
I am girl watching home wash
away again, again
Do you have a boat?
You are of no use to me.
I hover over flood
my only loves, our goat
the bracelets of my grandmother
now treasure of the force of nature.
I am homeless in the smoke-grey
of a greedy monsoon dripping disaster.
Bring a boat.
I do not know the whereabouts of the rest

Maggie Mackay, a Scot with wanderlust, a love of jazz and a good malt, has published in All Write Then’s anthology Still Me…(www.pewter-rose-press.com), winner of the Writers’ Circle Anthology Award 2014, and has work in various publications including Open Mouse, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Bare Fiction, The Interpreter’s House ,Obsessed with Pipework and The Lake with work forthcoming in The Screech Owl, Three Drops in a Cauldron and Prole. She is a second year student at Manchester Metropolitan University taking an MA in Poetry, and is a co-editor of Word Bohemia (www.wordbohemia.co.uk)