Long Scottish Poems
Long Scottish Poems. Below are the most popular long Scottish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scottish poems by poem length and keyword.
Painting by Scottish painter "Peter Doig". One of the most well-known contemporary figurative artists. In the Magic Realism style, this artwork is titled 100 Years Ago.
muted shades of grey
clad in a fearful ruby
in a state of lucidity
dwelling inside his gloom
the surge of echoes
outlining melodies
a point made of obsidian
eyes devoid of spirit
darkened crevices
crows rubbed me bare
your boat is ruined with red blood
effused of victim's body.
the sea won't reflect you
Diss your curse
the sun has faded
your stained aura
the solitary light now.
written: May 27, 2022
7th contest place
A Brian Strand PREMIERE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
http://www.artnet.com/artists/peter-doig/canoe-island-a-42CcWSGhw1gqyXCWSIDnOg2
https://www.wikiart.org/en/joaqu-n-sorolla/church-roncal-stairs
“A brownie or broonie (Scots), also known as a brùnaidh or gruagach (Scottish Gaelic), is a household spirit or hobgoblin from Scottish folklore that is said to come out at night while the owners of the house are asleep and perform various chores and farming tasks.” ~ Wikipedia
“We look at spirit not at form
Our touch is gentle, kind and warm
We but reflect God’s love and light
‘Tis the path to which we conform”
So, sing the lively Brownies
in the mists of Scottish Lorne,
and to the mists of other townies,
traveling in wee hours of the morn,
lightening good people’s burdens
with unselfish, friendly deeds
in their kitchens and their gardens,
thinking of their neighbor’s needs.
Though in life, we get so very tired,
by wee Brownies, can we be inspired?
"Life itself is but a shadow of death,
and souls departed but shadows of the living."
Thomas Brown, 1778-1820
Scottish, Philosopher and Poet
________________________________________
From death's repose,
come, sweet shadows.
My beloved, substance and essence,
ghosts that speak in voices so soft;
I hear their whispers in a thought,
these shadows are my existence.
Ghosts that speak in voices soft,
I smell their faint scent and perfume;
dim shadows waiting in the gloom,
I hear their whispers in a thought.
Come, sweet shadows.
Come, sweet shadows.
Ghosts that speak in voices soft,
giving my heart and soul balance;
the essence of soft shadows caught.
Come, sweet shadows.
Come, sweet shadows,
from death's repose.
______________________________
May 11, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Come, Sweet Shadows
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1021-361-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, The Essence of Shadows
sponsor, John Lawless
Seventh Place
Not the wisping grasp against the parchment
That licking click of writer as he tpyes
The cold inanimates touch of skin on screen
Memories only shorter I eye aye the Scottish yes
Scrapes and scrawls on cave dwelt walls
Truncated truck trimmed in intricate trestles
Who was the first message in a bottle for
Bobbles of sheerest ink like Scottish lochs
as.morning mists turn solid for a movement
I enjoy being wrong
Keeping pictures of the dead to the soon to be
Words the unleashed an atom
Words that end wars
illlusions putting fuses to the con
My muse has left
So I better be …….gon
It's full moon fever on this cloudy Scottish night
Dark angels leave their roosts in shadowy eerie flight
To the fields they fly as if summoned by an invisible force
This date has always been, it's just a matter of course
For always on this night when the scarecrows face becomes lit
A village would soon be divided in terror screaming split
Frenzied inhabitants, would run amok in killing spree
Frothing at the mouth whilst staring at skeletal trees
The moonlight captures flapping silhouettes of black
Swooping down in stealth their attack shows no lack
Beaks in laceration whilst crimson oozes free
Like headless chickens they run in panic spree
The dawn draws ever near amidst scenes of carnage spew
Bodies abound in deadened lie, as the new morn views
What's strange about this happening, is the lost are never mourned
It's as if they were never born, their birth never adorned
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-10.php
You'll find her hidden in her castle
Her Windows shuttered from light outside
A quill in hand by candlelight
Come midnight she would scribe
Huddled under quilted blankets
She would scribble til day had dawned
The spirit of odes would possess her
Until burdened message spawned.
She would share her gift with others
For the message was not hers to keep
But some despised the gift within her
Her wisdom just too deep
But there was a Scottish prince
Who took this Sage's messages to heart
He encouraged her to keep writing
For others valued her treasured art
Then one day a book of precious odes
From her castle spread far and wide
And now her shutters have let the light in
No more reason for her to hide
Someone told me that all Smythes are crazy, and I believed them
At first, until I met one
Who was delightful, and kind, and did not generalize people
He gave me a chance, which was a marvelous thing.
For I had not been willing to give him one.
Another told me that old women are dried up.
Not knowing any, I believed it.
Until I became an old woman
And realized I am more excited about life than I have ever been.
I paint, cartoon, dance, play racquetball, and write poetry.
So I am not dried up.
They told me that all white people are stuck up.
I looked at my skin. It is peach not white.
I was relieved, for when they tell me, I usually believe it
Until I meet one.
And realize when we are talking about people
ALL never makes sense.
I should have known this right away.
I am an identical twin, and we agree on practically nothing.
My uncle told me that the Scottish are stingy; I believed him
Because I was young, and I had never met one.
I did not even know what they were.
But then I grew up and had a DNA test.
And guess what? I am Scottish.
And I am not stingy, so I guess that one is out the window too.
My uncle is still smirking about this one.
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Destiny
Emotion: Joy
Color: Sapphire
Season: Midwinter
Form: Free Verse
Object: Crown
Verb: Carry
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel
Its my time to Soar
On eagles wings and fly
Above the sapphire sky
This Midwinter time of year
My crown is full of coloured dazzling~ sparkles
Glowing for all to see
Such joy I feel inside of me
I carry the love for my soup friends
Deep in this Scottish heart of mine
Not just at Midwinters time
Every day of every month ,year
I just love being here to share
My time for destiny is now
For such a time as this
I write from depth of heart ~ soul
Showing love, joy, kindness to all
(alternately titled: whipping and pommel ling
das soar addle brain)
My most recent deuce score
plus three bajillion ban
an nah ram ma orbitz
squared bob sponge pants
day of birth passed uneventfully –
(round el sol) saw me dan
sing around one average star, which Evan
chilly wool worth hilly exhibit
death throe tulle pan
dum mo' knee yum -
becoming a black hole sun,
when photon illumination
totally tubularly blinks
out more'n Knots Lan
ding all countries
with exception of Japan
(if only for explicit purpose
of this poem) can
did lee stated fan
silly free and foot loose
to appease the ghost of Ivan
the Terrible, who would
phish she shuss lee
never fin hush his
rage against the machine
foaming at the mouth
asper gar non sequitur
spoiler alert hint
aye made debut 13th of Jan)
and now for no rhyme,
nor reason mention
nothing (by the way)
written thus far tan
gent shill to the square
of hide bound
Halliburton Hippopotamus,
whose first name
Horton doth move in clan
destine fashion, oh...and nope
definitely not related
to ancestors of Kublai Khan
whose nickname Lloyd
though, whoa, wow,
and yikes quite a time span
'tween that Mongol
consigning, conning, and condemning
“FAKE” deplorable trump
ping app Paul
ling Peters to Azkaban
nonetheless, aye never aver
witnessed no fanfare
for this common (c'mon) man
lettuce high tail gangnam style to San
Mateo (matt er factly
founded, settled, and
populated by Scottish
donning Harris tweed
a hop, skip and jump by van
from this yan
key dude dull who lives ian
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
You are the dearest one to me
no one else can fill your place
filling my life with all that's good
love to look on your smiling face
So many memories we've shared
lots of joys we can't count
blessings untold fill our thoughts
you are indeed my living fount
My love for you has deepened
over years we've spent together
in our walks among the hills
even among the deep Scottish heather
Thank you for your faithful love
never giving up not for a moment
sticking by my side no matter what
held me tight showing you're heavenly sent
These three words mean so much
loving only you so very true
for you're my precious special one
so pleased for the day said I do
(I dedicate this to love of my life, my dear lovely wife Christine,which we celebrated our 26th anniversary last Wednesday and celebrate her birthday this wednesday, the poem says all that's true and real.)