Best Clannish Poems
Conifer, fruit tree's arms once did flow
laden with hued blossom, now gesture
to weight of lace ornamental snow.
Wintertide touch mystique blithe spirit.
Discordant weighty clouds draw down low
before night expire in dank vesture.
Chimney above winter render blow.
Piquant smoke distends languidly slow.
Bracing fire in manor of Esture.
Winter's breath chills even clannish crow.
Wintertide touch mystique blithe spirit.
2/19/2019
Categories:
clannish, winter,
Form:
Roundel
Hand-me-down myths,
like ancient monoliths,
clan's fondest memories
by nostalgia embellished;
larger-than-life sagas,
truer-than-truth legends,
hyperbolic narrations
of happy exaggerations;
that's ancestral history,
coloring one's genealogy,
seeping, coursing down
bloodlines, tribal milestones,
its gravitational whirl stirs
generations' imagination,
east, west, north, south
through word of mouth!
Categories:
clannish, family, seasons, time,
Form:
Free verse
I was no sooner asleep, via another plain I'd arrived
It was not of this world, was my journey contrived
For I awoke in a place that I had never ever seen
Trying to understand where I am, what does it all mean
The surroundings that are before me are of a palatial theme
Furnishings so grand that would be fit for any Queen
Stonework like the Norman's, from many centuries ago
But finished to an out of this world modern, throws me so
An attraction allures my eyes, through long draped curtains
What will my eyes view to confirm my distant certain
The skies are not like ours, they are a cobalt crimson red
Planets dot their ceiling in their silent overhead
I turn as I hear footsteps, like a marching from Earths past
Double doors in gentle open, leaves this Semaj aghast
Before me stands a beauty, with porcelain skin so fair
Whilst a lavender ivy graces, her flowing jet black hair
She leans her head as if pondering, touching lips so pink
Hazel eyes now pierce me, I'm wondering what she thinks
She starts to speak a language that's very new to me
Suddenly it's broken English, what do I hear I see
I am Princess Lorena, and you were always in our dreams
It was just a matter of time when you rode our celestial stream
We know of your Scottish courage, your clannish inner self
And how you saved the Earth, from the Butterfly Winged Elves
You and your droid Etto, whom we've allured to help our cause
On our planet you now stand, like your Earth, has many flaws
We plead you to lead our army, for we believe you to be true
For in this I shall repay, I'll bequeath myself to you
This poem, written by me, James Fraser's is my entry into Constance's contest,
"Tell Her Story"
Categories:
clannish, fantasyme, me, planet,
Form:
Couplet
Viewing this vista of extraordinary scene
Scenic she's creative in historic darkened means
Meaningful silhouettes, black squared, dark undulations
Undulated to her visitors, their close clanned relations
Relative they may be, but so different in their norm
Normally they would be, differential in their clans
Clannish their panorama, now dusk before their dawn
Dawn is when there's life, a new day has spawned
Spawning oranges and reds, the dusk now bows to the suns wooing
Wooing this extraordinary scene, now my eyes are viewing
Not for Nette's contest, I just loved the image, and it's theme
Categories:
clannish, inspirational, nature, places,
Form:
Couplet
Whispers we'd heard for many a year
But we were so far north they never came near
Then the day came for us Highlander men
It wasn't just where, just a matter of when
Down from the Glens came us Clannish men
To fight for our freedom to cleanse us from them
Soldiers unknown marching so fine
But soon we would meet, it's just a matter of time
Mountainsides so boggy, bracken lush to waist
Trepidation in our hearts, our Claymores desire taste
Shields of wood, Dirks of point
No shiny armour we carry, adroit
The time is nearing our scouts have declared
Intruders now sighted none to be spared
Marching like ants as if on familiar terrain
No care to their flanks, simply constrained
To the mouth of our Glen to these hideous men
Unknown to them, to them descends
Clannish, we many and all
When our ire erupts, our enemies fall
Ahead of them blocked, bails of hay now fired
We have them where they are, soon to expire
Confusion abounds, horses in throw
To whom they look up, administered blow
Arrows aplenty, spears of destiny
Targets hit, as our aiming should be
Reddened eruptions from flesh torn wounds
Claymores thrusting deep, admiring life consumed
Panic abounds amidst limbless souls
Crimson trails confirm our goals
Men of us in deadened taken
Battles like this should never be forsaken
The sporadic scattering of our Clannish men
To their beaten enemy, many lost in ascend
It's not the way we fought, it's how we fought together
When Alba's Clans unite,
"Were never to surrender"
Categories:
clannish, anger, angst, death, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
Welcome to my home for this is where I'll stay
It's where I was born, and where I'll end my days
It rests on the banks, of the Caledonian Canal
Surrounded by it's Highland beauty, in typical enthral
Cedars, Firs and Birch trees, iconic in their settings
Rain clouds often surround us, cascades them in their wetting
Then there's the carpets of heather, that cover clannish grounds
Where you can tip toe over it's surface, and not even leave a sound
To view the blooms of gorse, and marvel at our thistles
Just leaves you so in awe, walking with a whistle
We appreciate what nature gives, these breathing awesome beings
To watch them in her wilds, we rub our eyes at seeing
We are steeped in wondrous history, some good and not so grand
But nowhere on this earth, will you have stepped on welcomed lands
So welcome to my home, of mountains and the glens
Where us Highlanders reside, the ultimate of men
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-4.php
Categories:
clannish, history, inspirational, nature, people,
Form:
Couplet
The eagle is perched at a firing sight!
And pebbles salute
Converged in a cannon of salutation
Swift & smooth & sharp!
Bowing near her golden wings
All the pebbles greet
Adoring the blackness of her beauty
Luring her in vain
Into a home-dance at the village square!
The eagle is perched at a firing sight!
And winds of terror blow
Blowing everywhere
Among forest paths & homesteads
Unbeaten by protest-clouds
Here in the sky –
The hunter’s sling aims in vain
Her feathered bosom
Drawing away the eaglets.
The eagle is perched at a firing sight!
And stones in a hurry fly
Over fawning protective leaves & branches
More stones parachuted by hopes
Of spoils & clannish fame!
O eagle seated on the hunters’ disunity!
Rejoicing in the eternal silences
Enthroned in a nest of beauty
Carved like a marbled soul of immortality.
The eagle is perched at a firing sight!
And pebbles salute
Veering in a common confusion –
Should she fly safely away
Then hunters & their folks
Could sigh for another decade
Of her willful dictatorship –
And more stones could greet
Swift & smooth & sharp!
Categories:
clannish, allegorybeauty, beauty,
Form:
Pastoral
Here i sit
In the Country of my Scots
We are Albannach
Celts, we are taught
For many, many years
Our clans have fought and fought
Races have invaded our shores
But our freedom can not be bought
Our Clans are segmented throughout my lands,
in times of good we are in clannish dispute, and in
times of hardship, we congeal and unite as one
My questions and words, if you are there
You are obliged to listen, as i am here
If you are a teller, your words should be strong
Do you speak like Semaj, like his words do belong
I see these scrolls, from many years in worlds past
Written by elders, hidden to last
Their words of wisdom, powerful they may be
Come with me to the future, to the land of thee
These indigenous lands, spirits so free
In natures portfolio, they are the decree
For over two thousand years, religion has ruled.
Have we been taken in, and now in blinkered rule.
Do we look back to the Heathens, the Pagans the Mayans
where we look to our leaders, and their suppression
we rely on
Scriptures, books and scrolls, the writers of wisdom.
The elders of nations, in current living kingdoms
Without a book, there is no story, no paragraphs,
no believable glory.
In the modern days before 2012, in the world of Semaj
words can be heard. Tittle tattle about this and that,
once our worlds gone, that's that
A word in your ear
From father to son
Hear the word that I say
I fought with you
Fought on your side
Long before you were born
Joyful the sound
The word goes around
From father to son to son.
( Lyrics by Queen of Queen II )
My entry into Matt Caliri contest " If i Could Talk to God "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-6.php
Categories:
clannish, hope, nature, visionaryfather, words,
Form:
Free verse
Though scattered, focus on short tasks.
Pro-actively, with respect, and QUIET way.
If you're depressed, these are your circumstances.
There is nothing to gaze to if you exhausted the try.
Foray to unwind or do something pleasing for love.
After a calamity, the promise of reward vanish.
Shove a less irritable person to obtain a reprieve.
Will would enhance humanity if we were not clannish.
Rather than fretting, attempt to CALM down.
When one is TRANQUIL, he accepts equanimity.
It would assist if you highlighted your frown.
Intending of enjoying love, allow no anonymity.
Toughness is crucial for being relentless.
I'll repeat it spread your seeds of hope.
Humans spirit is shown in their PEACEFUL confession.
Soon, dreams of passion will inspire the elope.
It can be joyous or stressful, based on your trends.
When the only option is immediate, decisive action
It may stem from a need or be the result of intends
When a storm is raging, a regal deal of interaction
Arouse your mind to still not to embalm
All evolves with time, including oneself
Your skills assist you in ensuring your calm
Despite the environment, balance yourself
It feels delicious to remove things off your chest
According to one's criteria of estimation.
let them bear the burden and relish the benefit
Indeed, each individual nails the same evaluation
Many people who survived an incident whisper
When you're idle, your thoughts seem inactive
Possibilities for conflict render you relatively weaker
At first glance, it appears to be an admirable captive.
You are aware of SERENE and stop embracing her.
Do you STILL seem sore, or are you faking stress?
I hope you satisfied her and dabbed away her tear.
His ethical dilemma makes a different excess.
4th place contest win
Written: May 12, 2021
Writing Prompt - Calm - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
clannish, allusion, analogy, betrayal, care,
Form:
Rhyme
Now where do I begin
For the past is a great place to start
When clannish is what we became
Whilst adventure was growing in our hearts
Can you honestly imagine where we'd be
Inclosed in our internal peripheral
When one day it came to be
Someone peered over the wall
This step in our ancestral past
Gave way for the way we are now
Allowing interaction, two minds are better than one
Scratching our heads, and finding out how
The only way that this could happen
As we look around our daily lives
Is for us, having crossed borders
Letting imagination in us strive
It's 2012 and we take for granted
What our ancestors created from thought
We use and buy them without care
In reality, we're clannish, and bought
So close your eyes and imagine, something
Be it T.V. the Radio or the car
Lets applaud our Geographical borders, having crossed
We've only started, we have still to go far
Categories:
clannish, history,
Form:
Quatrain
Our history shows
Many clannish castles fell
Dereliction death
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php
Categories:
clannish, history, places
Form:
Senryu
he was pouring at the happening and usually there is a fair amount of disdain for the enthusiasts
who like to sidle up to sample the snacks, libations and what have you goodies.
he was a wisp of fair blond - a hippy kid.
he asked me if I would like him to crack my can of brew
I told him that this was not necessary
I looked at some stuff and listened to some other stuff
trying to maintain a bit of elbow room
while the crowds swirled and yammered
biding some time before refill and then I went back for another and he
cracked this one for me and said "cheers"
I drank it down and went for a walk down the street
I did not want to appear to be too gluttonous so I gave it some minutes
when I resurfaced in the crowded room and foraged thru the groups back to my man
he smiled and said "I grabbed this one at the bottom so that its chilled and now it needs to be shotgunned".
I laughed and retorted with double thumbs up
Impressed that this cat accurately assessed my quench and provided a
responsive and congenial atmosphere in one that can be rather unpleasant and clannish
my man had it
and I salute him for it
the damn hippy dippy
had it
kindness
Categories:
clannish, innocence,
Form:
Narrative
I thought it was oh so nice that Lady Florence Artifice lived in her house with goats.
She dressed in overalls of a man, with layers of bibbed overalls, dresses and coats
There was no other livestock in our neighborhood, but I thought inside was really good.
She was an oddity to others in town, but my twin and I loved it when she was around.
Her stories were terrifyingly thrilling, about hangings and people who tarred others.
We kids kept these tales to ourselves, not wanting to be censored by our mothers.
We followed her and Kneely, her head goat, up and down the block when she came by.
She would not talk to the grownups; they had no time for her; I always wondered why.
Strange, odd, weird, I heard them whisper sometimes about Lady Florence Artifice.
These small town Iowa women on my block were cliquish and clannish, and not very nice.
My mother thought it was hilarious that the kids loved this old crazy woman so much.
She allowed us leeway to run up to her garden and help her clean her rabbit hutch.
Florence knew the name of every flower, bush, vine, plant, mushroom, seed and tree.
She kept up a constant chatter that always amazed and delighted nine-year-old me.
She told us about killing cobras, rattlesnakes, lions, tigers, and one time a grizzly bear.
It was a sad day in the lives of us children when Lady Florence and Kneely were no longer there.
Categories:
clannish, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Subjects can their Bad Kings banish:
Their Lords that image tarnish
By being decisive and mannish
While proving them a clannish
After bribing schnapps of the Danish
And deceiving wine the Spanish!
Subjects must the details furnish
Of the wrongs by Monarchs to banish
And if they wish some garnish
Or the entire narrative varnish!
Subjects should Terrible Kings punish
Their faults ceases to burnish
Their eulogy for The–Without–Blemish.
Categories:
clannish, community, people, perspective, power,
Form:
Rhyme
Women who speak Spanish
seem to me clannish
While men who speak Russian
remind me of Prussians
Girls who don’t bathe often speak French
emitting a certain pungent stench
driving French boys to learn German
hoping to find a more buxom wench…
But cats who speak dog
and dogs who speak cat
~ Where the hell are they at
Categories:
clannish, cat, dog, language, men,
Form:
Rhyme