Best Plaids Poems


Premium Member Clans, Ilks and Tartans

Clans, Ilks and Tartans

Woven into threads of red and black,
Girded by grids of white,
Distant plaintive bagpipe memories
Of sunset over Kilmaurs –
A crest that bears a unicorn
Touches royal roots
As a poet’s tribute to a patron lost
Watches neighbors Campbell and Montgomerie
Then looks out on the seas from tidal lands
Of Ayrshire in flings and reels with swirling kilts
When explorer’s feet recall on new world shores 
The mew of seagulls soaring – 
Politicians, engineers and entrepreneurs -
Over Fork Over – Cunningham, a clan of auld.

Blocks of green and wine 
Stripped with blue
Look back into the heather
Covering highland hills of country dances
Where spring wanders in hunting kilts
Beneath clear cerulean heavens,
Boldly enduring;
A crest that bears a coronet
Of storied noble and knight
Whose melancholy legend 
Whispers in glens and gloaming
Of standard bearers for a king
Watched by Ogilvy and Stewart
Lindsay, a clan of auld.

Like sunlight bouncing off of autumn leaves
In crimson, golden amber, umber greening hues -
A sword dance of squares and lines in twirling kilts -
Near the sparkling waters of Loch Lomond;
Clan neighbor Graham and cousins MacCammon
See the crest adorned by a coronet
Prize of battle;
The wind remembers
Tiny windswept island Clarinch -
A battle cry of Clar Innes -
Campaigns of kings and exiled queens –
Chieftain’s seat sees a president and prospector -
Hence the brighter honor – Buchanan, a clan of auld.

Cousins of the same ilk
Bear the names of families -
Of highland lands
And lowland memories - 
Seaside and mountain territories -
Kilts wearing colors interwoven patterns
Born of clans with
Tartans telling legends and the stone of destiny,
Plaids dancing at the piper’s hand,
Ancient names, though maybe hidden, still live –
Cunnyngham, Lindsey and MacCammon
Of Buchanan –
In Celtic refrains like iridescent whispers
Woven through clans of auld.

This is the story of my Scottish heritage through the mottos, the tartans, the history and geographic references to the clan homes.
Categories: plaids, dance, family, history,
Form: Free verse

Meow Meow

Here kitty, kitty. Come out and play
I have a new bow for you today
You tore the blue one out so quick
With angry paw…you seemed quite ticked!
I want to dress you and show you off
So all the other bows I now have tossed
No purple or green to match your eyes
Or orange, nor pink that you despise
Polk-a-dots were just not right for you
You tore them to shreds a time or two
No stripes or plaids are in my hand
For these I know you could not stand
The white one was lost in your white fur
When it came out you purred and purred
Here kitty, kitty, now don’t you tease
I’ve a red one here that’s sure to please

1/10/13
Written for “Hello Kitty (World)” members contest.
Categories: plaids, animal, cat, humorous,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Sun God Cat of Polka Dot Blind Fold

Some cats have paisleys, some have plaids.
Some wear neon’s, some wear angel wings. 
I am Sun God Cat of Polka Dot Blind Fold.
I wear polka dots in all colors, and they sing. 

You can call me Sun God Cat for Short if you want.
I am not prissy or anything, because I am not that kind of cat.
Yes, I am a female, and I am usually out for the hunt.
I do not wear clothes, feathers, or any kind of silly hat. 

We can do breakfast at the café if you buy me cat nip shots. 
But I refuse to meet you ever between ten and two. 
Because that is when I lie in my tanning bed to freshen my dots.
And I am not willing to fade my fur for the likes of you.

Don’t take it personally, my friend, I am not trying to be mean
But I like my dots fresh and rainbow like, if I am going to be seen.
Categories: plaids, cat,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Easter Church Ladies

So polite. Wearing gloves. And hats. Hair in Easter colors.
Church ladies; prissy, smiling, crackling in their perfumes.
Flowered dresses, sitting primly on the hard wooden pews,
Singing in loud overtones songs they have known for decades.

Smiling at the Easter bonnets, and the tiny white lace gloves
Worn only by them and the toddlers now, everyone else in
Blue jeans, plaids, regular street clothes,
Sunday best no longer applies

Still they come, in their lavender hair, wearing their Bibles
In sheaves and satchels, letting their slips hang a bit in back.
Not as lively as before, but still with sparks they throw the
Way of Old Bill, the only bachelor over eighty, the reason some still come.
Categories: plaids, christian, easter,
Form: Free verse

And Now For the Next Half a Century

.......And Now For The Next Half A Century!

Over 50? Bring it on!
Feeling so empowered
Learning now that life's for grabs 
So much to be devoured!

Over 50? Piece of cake
Sitting on my laurels
Fed them, read them, washed them, wed them
Taught them all their morals

Over 50? Feeling great!
Welcoming that wrinkle
Gravity -  go do your thing
My eyes will always twinkle

Over 50? Never wiser!
Learning to say no
Earned my moods lost some feuds
Now basking in the glow

Over 50? Liking me
Dressing as I please
Goodbye fads, hello plaids
I ve no one to appease

Over 50? No regrets
Think it s pretty nifty
Guess I ll stick around a bit
To check out things at sixty!
Categories: plaids, introspection, life, time,
Form: Limerick

Someone Walked Over My Grave Today

>Someone I know not who walked over my grave today

It started on my local BBC Radio.
It really did you know.
A question was just asked it’s true.
What was the nicest thing ever said to you?

I did not have to think of an answer.
To this question asked on our local BBC radio.
The one that struck me off their Facebook page.
They really did, you know.

I shall not ring them up.
I will not tell them so.
As if I do, I really know.
My voice will sadly go.
I can write it down.
As none can see my tears flow.
I wish I had not heard that question.
I really do you know.

My sister Alma was dying.
She was younger than me.
She was only fifty-four.
Two years younger, you see.

When we were young times are hard.
To a children’s home was sent.
For three years, we were together.
Then to different foster homes were sent.
Of course, no one would tell me.
As separation, at the home was made.
And after a little while playing  with her.  
I was not allowed to play.
And that made us both afraid.
Then the seed was planted.
We had no related plaids.

It was through my sister’s insistence.
When, finally she was in a loving foster home.
She pestered her foster mother saying.
‘Who was that boy who played with me in the children’s home?’
Her persistence finally paid off.
Her foster mother did find me.
We had many happy years visiting.
At least, that’s what she said to me.
But the nicest thing she ever said.

Was, ‘Stanley, I am so pleased I found you.’

Then Cancer took Alma away you know.
Now I must stop as cannot see, as my tears oh so flow...<
Categories: plaids, bereavement, best friend, cancer,
Form: Elegy


A Top a Highland Hill

A Top A Highland Hill

A top a windswept highland hill above Locheil land
Clansmen gathered roun and shook the princes haun
They raised the standard high cheered till they were hoarse
Followed the flying heron across the highland gorse.

A,wa tae London toon wi hopes held dear in heart
O pitting Cherlie oan a throne whaur he richtly belonged
Dreams o highland jacobites tae rule oor blessed laun
An nation free aw europes stifling haun.

As so aften happens dreams die oan a wrang move
And at Derby juist nor o London toon
It wiz decided that we would go forrat nae mair
So wi turned an heided hame wi hairts ower sair.

Goerdie boy sent his airmie chasin us
A the wey back to scotias verdant green
Up an doon , doon an up aw ower the place
Till at Drummossie moor we met them face to face.

Oor clans were weary and tired oot
But charged intae them none the less
Their guns ripped through oor ranks ripping us to shreds
We scattered , whit was left, to oor wee bit hill an glen

Cumberland , the butcher boy chased us yince again
Tae oor ancestral hames reducing them to ash
Murdered those who fought and lost and innocents alike
Even the auld yins infirm an ill still biding in their beds.

The craws they feasted well oan highland blood an guts
Plaids an kilts an a, were hidden in the straw
Oor prince he hid awa n,er tae return tae us
But were er we be wi toast him wi oor cups.

Andrew P McIntyre  November 2011.
Categories: plaids, allegory, cry,
Form: Ballad

Plaids

Plaids.docx
Plaids
Satan and Daniel
one last word
“Checked or checkered worsted or suited to be nude under your clothing is transparent apparently non existent to my naked eye think this will be easily my last try Daniel answer me what is the last word” ? “Remember it means your soul against your long and sinful life”. Daniel shuffled his feet there was only a long silent night. “Away over there in the manger”,  the Devil began to sing. “Stop that” was from Daniel, “How do you expect me now to think” ? “eye need a drink a stiff one or both, ? eye need to THINK!!! The merciless Devil began to sing louder “Baby Jesus in the Carriage rhymes with perfect Marriage” yes you never married Daniel Webster but you played the bombast lots of times. Tell me now this one last test of time repeat after me “the last word is now just fill in the blank for your life ; at this the Devil Satan rocked back and forth in a Mimicry of him and then HE smiled. You always defeat me so quickly so smug in your Lawyers britches. While Christians die naked and stoned in the bull rushes of “GOD”. Daniel was smiling now. The Devil slapped his hand up over his mouth TOO LATE he realized just what he had done. Daniel seized the day. “GOD” is the last word howsoever you say it Jesus or Our Father the last word is “GOD”. Then the Devil rode a giant lightening rod back up to the Heavens and Daniel did his little Webster definition of a dance shuffle full of saving Grace. He shot his cuff out and buffed his sleeve and looked down at his Plaids.
Categories: plaids, adventure, education, history, religion,
Form: Prose Poetry

Mad For Plaid

I love to see a person clad
In skirt or sweater made of plaid.
A shirt or scarf works just as well;
No stripes or dots can parallel.

In Scotland, once, I went to see
A mammoth Tartan factory.
Each pattern has a special name
And certain ones have gained acclaim.

My closet has a wide selection,
Plaids I wear with great affection.
Wardrobes must be really Spartan
If they lack at least one Tartan!
Categories: plaids, beauty,
Form: Couplet

Dear Old Dad

dear old dad
he's such a good supporting lad

puts up with moms old fashion plaids
for he knows this what makes her glad

he puts up with the kids saying please
and is there to wipe their noses sneeze

puts up with dog barking morning thru night
and cleans up the after droppings delight

wont let anyone mow down the weeds
insists on doing all the honey-do deeds

so today dear old dad you deserve a break
let me be the one to rub all your sore aches


Happy Father's Day
To All Dads And Stepdads


We Thank You



Happy Father's Day Daddy {1925 - 1981}
Categories: plaids, death, dedication, devotion, family,
Form: Rhyme

The Game of Drive Troy Crazy

Never stop even when i say i said
when i signed up
and no matter what 
never give me my money back
oh boy do i ever miss my lazy boy and couch now

Just how far would one boy go to proove to his social class
grade seven that yes indeed we live
in a dictatorship
and free democracy is the same thing
thus the fad i am 

the game i have become
mainstream which cannot be lost
cannot be won
the game of drive troy crazy

Some play as though they need to disagree with everything i do and say
some play as though they have to thwart my every attempt at love
some play as though there is a prize to be won and they win it and im not allowed 
to ever win
some play as though they must make sure i fail at everything
oh the drama and how my life is a show
and no one must tell me 
say it isnt so

prove to me im not god i say
yellow blue green
orange yellow black
and start again in the fashion idustry pof pink plaids and ducky yellows
sing to me my names of games for i am your ultimate weapon of psychology and 
god
going to the mental institute to prove they are brainwashed not crazy
and the jig is truly up
did hitler really lose the war
and has the tricked message been sent 
or am i fooling myself?

or should i sit here and cry wolf as the papparazzi in control of the propoganda
threatens the psyxchiatrists
and ths the game of drive troy crazy must go on
andf the boot camp torture nightmare goes on forever

YES YOU FOOLS
i know exactly what i am
and i am proud to have made it this far
to round four


some mess with my head as if they can hear my thoughts
everything bad happens to my friends
and my enemies are all well off
but oh what a wonderfull object to crave i have become as i scream and beg and 
plead on the internet for amnesty
that even mensa geniuses cant figure out
for the game of drive Troy crazy is far too much fun!!!!

so now the tables have turned
and youre eventually going to realise who i am 
and what wolves are circling around me
and the nonexistant crimescenes i point at
welcome back to level on eof how we can all belong
of drive troy crazy
and prove to him he isnt god
and no there is nothing there in the spelling mistakes written in english jibberish
but perhaps piglattin japanese if you were smart enough to figure that one out
Categories: plaids, angst, life, people, me,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Morning After

Race over now:
Blue makes way then,
Red gains somehow,
New mandate hence.


The vote is in:
Flair in odd choice,
A new glyph seen,
Triumph of mad poise.


Wary world sees:
Markets on edge,
Stakes falling free,
On dangling ledge.


Sense the divide:
Mind-boggling stars,
Watch scary slide,
Tattoo strokes far.


Cheer takes a trip:
So far away,
Reason fails grip,
Dead logic slays.


Pieces of eight:
Parrots old fear,
Dread in gold plaids,
This much paid clear.


The people's choice:
Loud murmurs steal,
Stance in grave voice,
Art of the deal.


Awe strides with shock:
Tinge of regret,
Hurl lock and stock,
Pluck tit-for-tat.


Alarm bells ring:
Dance of new trance,
Karma can swing,
Glimpse hawkish prance.




Leon Enriquez
09 November 2016
Singapore
Categories: plaids, allusion,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member A Joyous Christmas Day

Christmas has always been a joyous time
Family getting together for food and wine
Fragrant Smells of balsam and prime rib roast
With warmth of smiles during our family toasts

Colored Christmas lights adorn the perfect tree
Ribbons and bulbs arranged perfectly for all to see
Presents wrapped in colorful plaids and prints
The children anxiously waiting, wanting hints

Adults gather to watch the children open their gifts
Secretly hoping they bought everything on their lists
My Cousin with her new fiancé, showing off her ring
Exciting talk about her wedding plans soon begin

A traditional yankee swap, hoping to pick number one
As our crazy fun and chaotic gift swapping have begun
Candles, wine, flashlights, gift cards and some odd tools
Home depot gift card is the gift that always seems to rule

Dessert is served at our festive dining table by candlelight
Chocolate, apple, pecan pie, a sliver of each, such delight!
Enjoying our pie with coffee, sharing funny nostalgic stories
A wonderful Christmas day full of happiness and no worries

12/9/19

Writing Challenge- December, 2019 - I Want Christmas Poems

Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode

12/13/19 submitted to 'STRAND SPECIAL 2 any form,any theme' contest
Categories: plaids, celebration, christmas, family,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Manly Men

I love manly men.
I love men in tartan kilts
who wear them effusively.
What is under them?
Do they wear short pantaloons
that will not show under kilts?

Or just in the buff
that will allow air to flow
and cool what suspends beneath?
Regardless, I love
manly men in tartan kilts
who move with cool confidence.

I toast Scottish kilts,
and the bare-kneed manly men, 
and Gael clans to which they’re bound.
May they never lose
their bold, cocksure demeanor 
and ever display their plaids.
Categories: plaids, family, fashion, meaningful, relationship,
Form: Choka

Premium Member Phat Argyle Cat

Phat argyle cat so furry and fine
Your diamond plaids are right on time
In pink and gray, you may simply dine
On kibbles and bits, chased down with kittish wine.
Categories: plaids, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form: Monorhyme
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