Best Tam Poems
A angry sky, as cauld as Loch Lomon'
fair drew me out from cot o' peat, an' bed.
The wolves wus wailin', an' thund'r respond'd
Ah gather'd tam, me tartan, an' dug Red.
To 'orse ah took an' found the 'erd sam 'urt.
The 'ungry wolves 'ad already fed.
Inta the bi'er blaw, the rill ah skirt
thro braes a white, t'ward ham an' fire burnin'
the bleatin' sheep, the 'orse an' ah alert.
We wud mak it hame, stomaches churnin'
O smell the peat fire on the wild wind now,
'ear the cows faint distant ca', a lowin'
'erself wud know, we'r near ta the brow.
Noo, we 'ad beat the storm hame, an' kep' me vow.
Dedicated to Jimbo Goff & James Fraser
and the spirit of Robin Burns
See About the Poem
Categories:
tam, absence, culture, faith, farm,
Form:
Terza Rima
Fairy Hills are gone, with his curse, ruined.
Can this hero be greater than her sin?
Did Father, forgive? He was her desire -
Oh Tam Lin, of stories, you beguile again!
Woods are now suburbs, we are far from home.
Slip into their minds, creep behind their roam.
Past’s visions will be life’s reality.
Legend leads us where fool's hearts cleave and comb.
Climb into their world, leave behind your woes.
Hide ‘neath trembling leaves from past pains and foes.
Search their soulful tale, embrace ecstasy.
Taste the nectar sweet where flowers did grow.
Open light forbids you and I to share
intimacy of our skin warm and bare.
Like those lover's torn, l hold your heart and hands,
softened by light eyes under dark brown hair.
Oh just like Tam Lin, I’d save you again,
far from city's eyes, we’ll live in the glen.
A woman and a girl, I'm with child of yours,
standing brave with you, our love, I’ll defend!
Our lovechild kicking strong beneath my heart
is condemned by those who want us apart.
She connects our love, forbidden by two worlds
as we plan our lives making a new start.
Fairy Hills are gone, with our curse, ruined.
Are we two heroes now greater than our sin?
I forgive myself; in our joy, I’m free -
With tolerance and love, doors will be opened!
Categories:
tam, fantasy, hero, love, passion,
Form:
Rubaiyat
Everyone would say, did you hear?
She's the one
She's too young
How irresponsible
Wearing smiles upon their faces,
pasting labels on her back
Her sullied reputation,
a newborn in her pack
How impossible
Everyone would say did you know that he has gone?
Mistakes she made, she'll be known to fail
Mistakes she made, will be known by all
Mistakes he made.......... well boys are boys
she made her bed, she had a choice
Every voice will say, oh well......
Everyone will say
Her choice, her bed, she made her hell
Who's left to blame? Her fault, her shame, her belly swells
What was his name? Well.....shame, shame, shame
She hears the words
She holds them close
She holds the babe that she will bear
She bears the babe that she'll adore
Bittersweet, was yesterday,
Regret, they say, she'll toss away
A babe she bore......she holds with pride
This motherhood, she will not fail
Who once was frail.....she'll take in stride
And motherhood, she wears it well
............................................................
5/14/15 For Deb's Contest: Tam Lin
Categories:
tam, birth, emotions, feelings, people,
Form:
Free verse
When we were young
We didn’t know what we could become
What we could have been
When we were just sixteen.
The road ran on forever
Summer lasted long and dreamy
Never a thought of being old
When we were young and bold.
We met together talked and sang
Planted a twig that became a tree
No restraints we ran free
Like a picture coloured in and drawn.
When we were young
What could we have become
A singer,poet and artist we
Bosco, Souixie Sue and me.
Gathered at the Walnut Grove
Along wi Tam, Nautical Bill and Blondie Bee
Having fun singing our song
Never knowing what was to come.
Our paths were split
Each to their own way went
Thinking back to when we were young
A tune forgotten already sung.
©andrew provan mcintyre 12/5/16.
Categories:
tam, art, best friend, fate,
Form:
Free verse
When Spring rain falls and flowers bloom lambs are born,
and when I see those sweet babies I cannot be forlorn.
My friend has a farm and I go to visit a cute little lamb,
he is so sweet and curious- I have named him Tam-Tam.
When I call his name he pokes his head out of the barn.
we play and I stroke his coat already soft as spun yarn.
I love watching the "gang" leaping in the pasture green,
it is such a soothing, delightful and beautiful serene scene.
These adorable lambs will never, ever become lamb chops,
they will stay with the herd or go to other farms as swaps.
But my friend assures me that Tam-Tam will always stay,
and that makes me so happy for I can see him any day.
I can watch my Tam-Tam and his "gang" grow up strong,
then, watch them being shorn when their coats get long.
And when Tam-Tam is grown and father to a few lamb,
I will select one special cute one and call him Bam-Bam !
Categories:
tam, spring,
Form:
Couplet
I shall never wear a tam-o-shanter in Scotland,
Yet I am satisfied for this is all right with me.
I shall never play my tambourine to a crowd of ten thousand,
Yet I am happy for this is all right with me.
An inkling of King Solomon’s wisdom tells me I will never see Saar,
Yet, I am satisfied, for who can see it on Pinterest? Me.
Eventually I will probably see all of this and more from a heavenly catbird seat.
And this is more than enough to make my heart happy.
Categories:
tam, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
We're grouped together ready to party
just standing around waiting for the coach.
Not a stag do exactly, just us men.
Before you ask, it wasn't fancy dress.
A football Friday night out for a drink,
one or two, possibly looking for sex.
I certainly wasn't looking for sex,
no women allowed in this lad’s party.
Tam who’s just arrived is getting a drink,
he’s our mate and first team footballing coach.
Back from a wedding rehearsal; full dress.
So he’ll be glad; being back amongst the men.
We arrive at a pub heaving with men;
just a handful of the opposite sex.
God knows who came up with this **** address.
It isn’t lively enough to party.
We agree that we’ll get back on the coach,
however, Tam bought us all one more drink.
At the next pub I get the lads a drink,
‘Okay,’ I say to them, ‘It’s my round, men,’
and hand three pints of lager to the coach.
My thoughts absentmindedly turn to sex,
when I look towards a crowded hen party
and see a girl in a skimpy red dress.
‘Check out the girl, in the little red dress,’
I say to Liam, passing him his drink.
‘I’d love to get an invite to that party.’
‘Aye well, you, me, and the rest of the men;
thoaght you wurny interested in sex?’
he says, as we watch her approach the coach.
It’s half past two; the last round’s on the coach.
He’s fondling the girl, his hands up her dress.
‘Jesus man, go outside if you want sex,’
I say, ‘It’s your round; last orders for drink.
I’ll be up there with the rest of the men.’
The bar closes; it’s the end of the party.
I board the coach with the rest of the men.
It was a good party, plenty to drink,
and Tam’s having sex wearing the red dress.
Categories:
tam, character, drink, friendship, funny,
Form:
Sestina
SCOTLAND
Very big sign on highway A1 going southways
Out of Scotland into England,
Painted with thistles, tartans, bagpipes, says
“Haste ye back to bonnie Scotland”.
The other side of road has a small squat
Stone saying one word - “England” - and that’s that.
I am not Scottish: there’s nobody perfect about.
But I’m the closest thing to I reckon:
I am a Geordie, a Scot with brains knocked out.
But mother often told me I was not born -
But conceived in Scotland - the Trossachs;
But nevertheless, still one of the Sassenachs.
I know Scotland as well as I know my hand:
Have crossed the mighty Forth bridges countless times,
Know the “charms” of Dundee’s sandstone tenement-land,
Breakfasted at the huge dining table with clock chimes
In Carbisdale Castle youth hostel, at ease;
And sawed logs for firewood from its fir trees.
I’ve hitched with Glaswegian drivers on the Campsie Moors
And listened to their pleasant chatter
In heavy dialect for twa hoors
Without understanding a word, for that matter;
And often had a dram and been merry
With the crewmen on the Ballachulish ferry.
The fact is that Scotland is the most
Beautiful part of the world I’ve ever known
And the Scots are a warm generous host
Always pleased to help a stranger on his own.
A pub-reading of Burns’ Tam O’ Shanter
From a soft Scots lilt is a real enchanter.
And when you go south on the A1,
All you find is just England.
That’s probably why they want
You to haste back to their bonnie land.
Kilts and haggis, the list is endless:
And while you’re there you won’t be friendless.
Categories:
tam, places
Form:
Verse
N maang uthi dhadkan se ab ki
Tinake-tinake se mai bhaaguu
Bache huye is rang manch me
Doobi palake sahil si baantuu
Roti khushiya khusabuu si seenchu
Tukado-tukado me mai saans sametuu...
Phir bhi maula mere....
De De Mujhako
Jeevan bhar me aansuu..
Bache huye is tam pal me
Kone-kone ambar se bhar duu
Krandan shapit saari duniya
Ban baaris hr pyaase man me aas bikheruu...
Phir bhi maula mere...
De de mujhako
Jeevan bhar me aansuu...........
By.. AMIT SHUKLA
Categories:
tam, emotions, pain,
Form:
Lyric
Mac Caulley was a farmer-O
Living off the shores of Badachro
His fields were sown like tartan-O
The crops crisscrossed in every row.
The evening pulled him to the coast
Where on his pipes he’d sound a toast
To all of those he loved the most
A declaration, but n’er a boast.
Not all were happy with this gam
Those said he shaved with razor clams
That thistle leaves had spiked his dram
While hives of bees, lived in his tam.
He pushed aside the verbal stones
and squeezed the belly, to a moan
A sound akin to grizzly groans
That shaped itself to Highland tones
Sheep wagged wooly heads, to and fro
Fish danced through water, far below
A Stag waved antlers, at his doe
Through rowan trees, the music flowed
Mothers tucked tired children into bed
Fathers sleepily nodded, weary heads
Sleep wrapped itself in myriad threads
About their minds, like pretzel breads.
Mac Caulley set his pipes aside
His feet were damp from shifting tides
He headed homeward, with quick strides
To his doorway lit…by dancing eyes
Categories:
tam, life, music, places, sound,
Form:
Verse
Here I have a chocolate meditation,
Writing an ode for edification,
What is a chocolate meditation?
It is packet of Tim Tams, in Oz nation,
Let's hear it for Oz Tim Tams,
From an Australian native chocolate plant,
Thence to an endless dish,
Of chocolate biscuits, utter bliss,
No afternoon tea is complete,
For the last Tim Tam we do complete,
Giggling gerties, one and all,
Chicks can hide them in their holdalls,
Without Tim Tams, housework is incomplete,
Must keep our ample figures neat!
I've heard they're unique to Oz nation,
Tim Tams, total chocolate meditation!
Categories:
tam, chocolate,
Form:
Free verse
Hats are such a marvel,
when the weather is so garbled,
A multitude of quick coverlets to warm the brain
protect the head from snow, wind and rain.
A dapper, flamboyant chapeau
to quickly dawn where ever you might go,
A fedora brandished by some handsome man
that would display his appealing stand.
A stetson for the guy from Texas
who stands tall before the rest of us.
A tam, a topper
a Panama show stopper.
Some pretty little girl in a bonnet
that inspires a Shakespearean sonnet.
Better yet, a woman's choice of millinery
to walk a fashion show off fritillary.
To church or same gandiose Easter parade
that gleams and stands above the seasonal charade.
Hats are such a blessing
when the cold requires warm protective dressing.
The prediction is for gusty winds and cold,
hats need only be warm not necessarily bold.
Take your pick
but make it quick
your nose, your face, your head
need covering, that goes unsaid.
as temperatures drop
Categories:
tam, cool, february, wind,
Form:
Couplet
Tam Pierce
a gray mare
the circus-clowns' car
old uncle Tom Cobbley et al
going to Widecombe Faire
Categories:
tam, humorous,
Form:
Tanka
Dark and lonely
A cave in my soul
Dripping with emotion
A tidal flood
Encrypted in my heart
An arrow through a lark
Broken trombones
And old sousaphones
Honk into the night
I'm a rain dog that bites
I am a rattle snake
That wants to fight
There’s no love here
There never has been
You ask me for my hand
It’s a shaker and a tam
No thank you ma’am
I'll take my chances
On snake eyes
And remove the scales
That tie
So don’t come looking
For sunlight
It’s damp and dreary here
For a heart that is closed
This is no place for you dear
Categories:
tam, addiction, angst, loneliness, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Tha lil ugh-gy duckin...
...Waa-uh-uh...a BAT lookin baby!
An somMO (I don mean jus maybe!)
Growt up in a house-boat shack
Way downt-ere in ole MAN-chac
Ain lyin!! (An I AIN hat no toke)
Ugh-gy baby make BU-tam-ous foke
All LAFIN an bubbly an-DIN!
Dat black hair and daak Creo-skin!
Guess who I be TALKIN abouts??
Wha-uh SWAN dat de LORD dun turnt out!!
For my beautiful black-haired Bayou Manchac granddaughter - DIXIE!!
This is rural southern African American dialect. It is used in the present-day Delta and central Mississippi regions...I tried to state exactly how a good friend of mine from that area might describe my grandaughter, who was am ugly baby but turned out to be beautiful both inside and out...
Categories:
tam, funny, granddaughter, people,
Form:
Rhyme