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Best Poems Written by James Tweedie

Below are the all-time best James Tweedie poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Old Friends

Old Friends

Come, sit with me and share some idle talk,
Of cabbages and kings, of life and death.
Or else, perhaps, opining as we walk,
We could discuss some current shibboleth.
We’ll wile away the day just as we please,
While deconstructing pop philosophy.
No topic is taboo, we’ll shoot the breeze
With politics mixed with theology.
Together we will save the planet Earth,
Preventing climate change from getting worse.
And when we’re done with that, for what it’s worth,
We’ll solve the riddles of the universe.
We’ll talk the talk and talk the walk and then
Tomorrow we will do it all again!

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The Time Has Come, Our Destiny Awaits

Behold the enemy before our gates
Who deign to slit our throats like sheep this day.
The time has come; our destiny awaits.
We kill or die. There is no other way.

Beside us stand our wives and family
Whose fate, along with ours, is joined as one.
For if we falter, they will never see
Again, the rising of another sun.

The trumpet sounds, we stand as one to fight;
With thrust of spear and pike, with steel and stone,
With sweep of sword and taut-strung arrow’s flight
Our foes shall reap the evil they have sown.

E’en unto death, give all you have to give,
Yet do not fight to die, but fight to live.

September 22, 2020

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Wordsworth's Lament

I wandered lonely as a cloud—Oh dear!
I watched the dance of daffodils—Oh my!
When on my couch in vacant mood I lie
And feel their wealthy fluttering draw near.

I see them toss their heads like twinkling stars;
A sparkling, sprightly, jocund company.
I gaze, I gaze, they outdo waves with glee;
A host, a crowd, ten thousand avatars.

They flash within my pensive inward eye;
My heart is oft with pleasure filled each day.
Alone a poet could not be but gay;
Especially great Romantics such as I.

I cringe to think that out of all the rest,
This poem might one day be deemed my best.


A parody of William Wordsworth's poem "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" (aka "Daffodils")

Details | James Tweedie Poem

Glen Nevis--Lochaber, Scotland

Majestic, barren, rock-cropped braes ascend—
Arrayed, green-clad, in heather, gorse, and fern—
As mid-day, misty, dark’ning clouds descend
To cold-embrace each soaring tor and burn.

From heights unseen a torrent cascades free,
Unfettered into deep Ben Nevis’ glen;
Then onwards toward Loch Linnhe and the sea,
Through sodden bog and brackened, stone-strewn fen.

Though hidden from the eyes of those below,
Ben Nevis’ surly brow is sought and found
By those who brave the rain, the sleet, and snow,
To scale the cairn that marks its highest ground.

And there, amidst the cloud, God reaches down
To touch and bless fair Scotland’s Highland crown.

								brae=steep hillside
								tor=rocky peak
								burn=hillside stream

This sonnet is one of a set of five sonnets written while traveling through Ireland and Scotland in June 2019. This sonnet was inspired by my climb to the snowy summit of Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the British Isles. The poem is included in my book, "Mostly Sonnets," published by Dunecrest Press and available for sale on Amazon.com.

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A Winter Evening Commute

The winter darkness falls before the day
Has run its course, long ere the eyes of those
Who labor seek surcease from weariness.

The home-bound traffic winds its halting way
Beneath the moon-bound Evening Star and slows—
A mess.

And so I sit with promises to keep,
Ensnarled within a concrete wilderness
As news and music streams from radios.

At last the exit home—to eat, to sleep,
And rest.

Details | James Tweedie Poem

Beastly Betty

Beastly Betty badly breaks her brother’s
Buttocks with a bat upon his butt.
Broken, beaten brother barely bothers
Bellowing at bawdy Betty. But

Because bad blood between both babe and bro
Builds baleful bias brought by Betty's bane,
Beleaguered Bob bestows a bitter blow.
By blasting boiling bile on Betty's brain.
,

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Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers

Alliterative adjectives
Are like poetic additives
That rearrange raw rhythmic rhyme
So sonnets sound more-so sublime.

“Aggrieved aggressors,” “Angry Aunts”
“Outraged oppressors,” “Haunted haunts”
Are all alliterative bits
That prod poor poems into hits.

Consider how this very verse
Without alliteration would be worse.
For con-sequential consonants
Create quaint quotes of consequence.

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The Month That I Like Best

The month that I like best? It’s hard to say . . .
For January’s nice, and April, too;
But if I have to choose just one, it’s May.

In May, we celebrate Memorial Day!
But what of February, March—those two?
The month that I like best? It’s hard to say . . .

In May, there’s smell of flowers and fresh-mown hay,
September and October? Each their due!
But if I have to choose just one, it’s May.

In May, with longer days, more time to play!
In June, July, and August?  Skies are blue.
The month that I like best? It’s hard to say . . .

In May, the warmer days are here to stay!
November and December? Much to do . . .
But if I have to choose just one, it’s May.

In May, my Mom and Grandma made entrée!
And as for me, I, too, was born on cue.
The month that I like best? It’s hard to say . . .
But if I have to choose just one, it’s May.

Details | James Tweedie Poem

A Better Tomorrow

I left a job that I had much enjoyed
To take a new position with a firm
That promised me that I would be employed
With higher pay and bonuses each term.

The job required traveling to meet
With clients and give technical support
For product updates; visits I’d repeat
Each quarter and then turn in my report.

Since Covid I have done this on my phone,
Which worked so well that now they’ve said to me
That I’m laid off—that some much cheaper drone
Can do my job from Washington, D.C.

I’m down, of course, but could this somehow be
A door to some new opportunity?

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The Music of Love

As one who plays upon the lute is she
Whose tuneful touch plucks music from my soul
And weaves each note into a melody
Of love which twines two hearts into one whole.

In serenade I take her song and sing
It back to her with gentle kiss and sigh
As gasping, grasping, passioned love takes wing
And lifts us like an aria on high.

In fierce embrace and ardent ecstasies
We soar like angels on our upward flight,
Creating and performing symphonies
Of love that touch the stars and thrill the night.

Then joined as one, as close as two can get,
We sing our song of love as a duet.

October 13, 2020