Long Hame Poems
Long Hame Poems. Below are the most popular long Hame by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hame poems by poem length and keyword.
As the wind rolls cold of the mountain plain
As the Hindu Kush rises like skyscrapers to Gods name
But these are not my mountains and the wind is not the same
So as my plane takes off im glad im headed hame
Back to the lowlands of the South and the Highlands of the North
Those crystal clear burns lochs and mountain streams
Back to the braes and the bens and the fresh mountain snow
Back to where the thistle and the heather grow
So who is proud to be Scottish? well that would be me
And what does Alba need? She needs to be free
So people rise up against centuries of tyranny
As a unified people chant were free
Form:
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.
Hic, Hic, hiccup, oh my
had several drinks
over the last few hours
and my poor head is spinning
Hic pardon me 'tis the drink
my feet seem to be both left
I keep tripping over ouch
maybe a last one for the road
Hic that was not so wise
my hame is down this way
ohm maybe not I can't see
everything is in triplicate
"Hey there Tommy help me hame
I can not seem to find it"
"Well, Jimmy my lad, dear me
you sure are a sad sight
Looking like you fell
landing in a dirty gutter
lets get you to your hame
afore ought else happens"
Staggering along together
they heard the bells ring
"ock, New Year, hells bells
the hen will be mad at me"
I promised I would be hame
afore the midnite hour
Jimmy, came a harsh call
get your backside in here
Hey, hen do not be mad
I brought Tommy hame
he helped me after I fell
pour us a round of drinks
Let us toast in the New Year
several drinks later
not a simple peep
just the odd snore and snort
hen scottish for partner or wife
hame scottish for home
midnite scottish for midnight
Caledonia her laund is oor laund,
Caledonia her laund is ma laund
A laund wherr ithers ur walcome,
As we haud oot oor hand
In friendship an tak ye aw in,
As brithers fur aw that.
Caledonia we hailse you foriver,
Caledonia the braw kintre,
Whaur fowk ur aye at hame,
Wherr ithers feel richt at hame,
Whaur affront is ne.er oor aim,
An deceit fur laund wi lea alane.
Caledonia yer nae wanes slave,
Caledonia ne,er unner Sassenach fit,
A laund fu o kemps aplenty,
Free tae skail guid rid bluid,
We urny hinder tae scowth-and -roth
An will fecht tae uphaud oor richts.
A kintre o men free wi lealtie tae,
Auld alba caws tae us frae whiles bygane,
Wi sangs an ports fae the pipes ,
Filling the hairt wi pride an courage,
An we will fechttae protect oor ain,
An free auld alba frae colonial pain.
Not nowhere near a mastermind just highly inclined
To turn mental pictures into verbal masterpieces
Not really into the rap hame message want get through I'm
Gone be honest unless you got a gimmick or sell big drugs don't nobody hear you
Young black man going through the struggle don't nobody
see you
These days you gotta use social media get your followers up
but if it ain't making them dance it ain't what's up
The rap game done switched to you tube views instagram the
Hustle is likes that's how these new cats getting rich
Artist don't want record deals everybody independent
made top 10 greatest hits 2 pac didn't make the list tell
me this who had more hits
All I'm trying to say is I don't think message gets through
Scarface tell real stories if your not him or have a gimmick
Don't nobody hear Nor See you
Far tae the North hidden alang Moray coast,
Therr bides a little toon o which yin can boast.
Wi a rid phone boax in pride o place mak a call tae freends an aa.
Nae thing tae spile the view ower grey blue sea reflecting azure sky
Rest yer mind oan Pennans lap bringing a smile tae yer mou'.
Sky ablaze with fire a glow as ancient as the stones
Ancients witnessed this cosmic fire thinking it was the gods ire,
Hiding within circles of towering stone while druids chanted
Smiling as they alone knew ,it was the voyage of the sun roon the wurld
Bringing the gift of life making crops grow at summers height.
Stillness settles over the sea and land, lulling all to rest and sleep,
A flash o siller moon catching and painted by setting sun.
Now the red of setting sun is painted over the sky,
Segou’s fly hame tae roost oan clifface steep an sheer,
Till yince again at dawns rise brichtens the sky again.
Splish, splash said the seagaus yin tae anither,
Fur whit wull we hae fur oor supper e dey,
said the ither ,Ah ken lets hae fish,
Whit again replied the first ane, weel we aa ken that at Pennan ye allus get the
best fush
my but yer richt therr ma freen quick afore yon dolphins jin the queue
C,mon n hurry get therr furst an gie them the push.
Pennan is the fushing village wherr “Local Hero” wus fulmed.
Grouin up in Glesga wis nae mean feat
Pleyin in the back courts an dreepin the wass
Plouterin in puddles manky water sploshing aboot,
Searching in yon mucky middens fur treasure
Thrown oot by the families in the closes.
Fur a fitba a pile o rags weideh doon wi aw sorts o things
Or a tanner ba made tae test yer skills dribbling roon
Bricks, holes an buckets burnt through.
Some wi nae shin baries wis the thing
An naething caught except wee beasties in the hair.
Holy jumpers an maukit breeks like a uniform
Worn tae mark ye oot as livin in tenements raw.
Aye aww wis puir always skint fur buying scran
Except faither oan a Friday nicht at the boozers
Getting fu wi his pals forgettin the weans,
Crying at hame an when he came in mither
Wid aways get the blame .
Aye the weans o glesga wur a hardy breed,
All ways stervin an needin a feed,
That wisnae allus therr a feast wis a jeely piece.
When they grew an produced men o valour,
Or men o wealth an fauncy cars,
Ne,er forgot that they were a Glesga wean.
“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,
©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.
President Olusegun Obasanjo- Atiku Abubakar
Promises of pardoned traitors
Reek like ancient regrets.
Exhibitions,
Steeped in rapacity.
Inured to light, they
Dominate blindly
Evoking the same air of oppression
Noteworthy of the days of yore.
Traitors in transit, trampling as they go.
Over us, they bellow.
Lording it, they rule
Under the guise of foreign dogmas,
Silence all demanding.
Egocentric beasts with rotund bellies
Gloats with our reserves.
Unaffected by the groaning of a people
Nestled in penury.
Our Overseers,
Behemoths, disguised,
Assiduously make us the
Shame of the whole world while
At perfect ease with themselves.
Neglecting the many sufferers about, they
Jostle for private vaults in Zurich as
Our poverty became their riches.
And the bespectacled gargoyle
Trenched in the prison called Rock.
Impervious to all wisdom,
Kept an unholy vigil as
Undertakers beckoned suddenly.
Archetypical simpletons, they
Bask in gaudy wealth
Untouched by the miseries surrounding them
Building high walls to keep prying eyes away.
Atop Hills, perched like Vultures,
Kleptocrat searching for new honour.
Aglow in oily garbs, they
Regale themselves, as the world looks on in amazement!
"In times past, said Santa, I'll admit, I have failed to live up to my name.
Like you, I shunned poor Rudolph, seeing his nose was not the same.
We bullied, making him sad, refusing to admit him to the game.
That lesson was learned when he saved us,(much to our shame.)
Another chance is presented. You see, Rudolph has come up lame.
So, let us rise to this challenge!", we heard Santa Claus exclaim.
"For too long, we've been unequal, for greater character we must aim.
It's time to give the honored position, in the front, to a dame!"
Donner scoffed, “we’ll get lost now and Rudolph is the one to blame!.
When Clarice flew by them, all the reindeer cheered her name,
And decided unanimously they would be proud if she came...
For she was fast as lightning, and they weaved her traces through the hame.