A Song For Kilts
How grand the human race would be
If every man would wear a kilt,
A flirt of Tartan finery,
Instead of trousers, custom built!
Nay, do not think I speak to joke:
(You know I'm not that kind of man),
I am convinced that all men folk.
Should wear the costume of a Clan.
Imagine how it's braw and clean
As in the wind it flutters free;
And so conducive to hygiene
In its sublime simplicity.
No fool fly-buttons to adjust,--
Wi' shanks and maybe buttocks bare;
Oh chiels, just take my word on trust,
A bonny kilt's the only wear.
'Twill save a lot of siller too,
(And here a canny Scotsman speaks),
For one good kilt will wear you through
A half-a-dozen pairs of breeks.
And how it's healthy in the breeze!
And how it swings with saucy tilt!
How lassies love athletic knees
Below the waggle of a kilt!
True, I just wear one in my mind,
Since sent to school by Celtic aunts,
When girls would flip it up behind,
Until I begged for lowland pants.
But now none dare do that to me,
And so I sing with lyric lilt,--
How happier the world would be
If every male would wear a kilt!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Kilts, Ye Ken
Noo, ye ken, we'll see 'em agen,
Waggling doon the street,
While the baton twirls an' the piper skirls
To the beat of the marching feet.
Left - right - glimmerin' bright,
Buttons and cairngorms shine;
While the pipes give forth 'The Cock o' the North'
Ho! The kilts are in the line!
Far an' faint ye hear the plaint
Comin' adoon the breeze,
Closer it comes, wi' the crackle o' drums
An' the lift o' the naked knees.
Left - right - was ever a sight
Finer by burn or glen?
Wi' the tunes ye know, like the auld 'Keel Row'
Tis the march o' the Cameron men.
Pageantry it ever shall be
An asset in any land.
But the lad who's built to carry a kilt
Losh, mon! But he is grand;
Steppin' along to some auld song
Or a war chant tipped wi' flame.
'Tis the kilt - the kilt! An' the pibroch's lilt
Callin' us - callin' us hame.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunshine
When I look at your face I see dirt;
All the sunshine you blow up my a** starts to hurt;
And I don't really mind if I'm nothin' in your eyes;
It's no surprise to me;
There's a rocket I built;
It's under my kilt;
It's coming to blow you away.
I was a jerk;
I did the work for somebody else's dream;
I took the chance;
I lost my pants;
In somebody else's dream tonight.
Now you're calling me up to get paid;
And if you don't get paid then you'll never get laid;
But I really don't have any money;
I say goodbye; And you'll have to depend on your size;
There's a rocket I built;
It's under my kilt;
It's coming to blow you away.
I was a jerk;
I did the work for somebody else's dream;
I took the chance;
I lost my pants;
In somebody else's dream tonight.
Now I think that I'm going to bed
song performed by by Wheatus from Wheatus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Wear It So Well
All of those things
Yeah, that you got to give
Yeah, you wear it so well
Hey, you wear it so well
All of those stories
Honey, that i know you could tell
Yeah, you wear it so well
And your face hides it so we can't tell
That you knew we would wear it so well
You wear it so well
Yeah darling, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah now baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Hey now darling now, yeah, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
All of those things
That make poets sing
You wear it so well
Yeah, you hide it so well
And all of those pain
That you used to tell
You hide it so well
Can't tell from your face that you knew it so well
Hey, now that you have such a story to tell
Yeah, you got style and grace and you wear it so well
You wear it so well
And you got, you got such a story to tell
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well
Grace and style equals you so well
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well, well, yeah, so well
Yeah, you wear it, wear it, wear it now, wear it now, baby
Yeah, now you wear it so well
And you got such a story to tell
(ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh)
(ooohhh, you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The missing
I was missing...
I was missing...
At my self
I was missing...
Wear is i am...?
wear is i am...?
Asking for my mind
Any time...
I am missing...
For my sence...
Wear i am...?
My work...
my money...
my poem's...
my dayana...
Wear i am...
Wear...?
I was leave
At me...
But...
I was searching
For the world drama...
I was search
Wear i am...?
My answer is;
'Missing...! '
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Impressions can be false
The vicar wore a summer frock
when he was preaching to his flock.
His chosen theme intolerance
afforded him the perfect chance.
To openly admit he was
a little different because.
By nature disinclined to fight
the urges which to him felt right.
Confidently masculine.
He did not feel clothes should define
ones sexual identity
and should be viewed more tolerantly.
All deviations from the norm
considered so we might reform
The way we judge our fellow men
It is time to take stock again.
A brawny Scotsman we accept
can wear a kilt we don’t suspect.
that he might be effeminate.
In fact we think that he looks great.
A prime example of a man.
Which only goes to show we can forget
our preconceived ideas.
A man defines the clothes he wears
In days of yore Dandies would dress
in silks and velvet to impress
and would defend with naked steel
the right to dress the way they feel.
I find it hard to understand
why people condemn out of hand
Men who do not seem to care
what you think they ought wear.
A man has every right to dress
in any fashion more nor less.
Women can wear trouser suits
and if they choose to heavy boots.
If your reaction to his clothes
is to suspect he’s one of those
Then you display your ignorance
and complete lack of tolerance.
16-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Is Every Wear
God is every wear
God is every wear
Who is god...! ?
It is love...
It is true....
It is nature...
It is suprime power
No no...is only golden word's...!
From who is god...! ?
For child wood
Your father and mother
For middle age
Your wife...
Old age
Your children...!
Thats all;
Every wear god is
Thear...
You only do the love...!
Make a happy home
And make a happy world...!
So.., god is every wear...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Man in Green
Well, you wonder why
I always wear the green,
The colours of the world’s
Finest football team,
You will never see me wear the colours
Of royal or navy blue,
As I’m a Celtic supporter,
Faithful through and through.
I wear the green for my ancestors,
Who came from Ireland, long ago,
Who left Erin’s shores and settled
In the town of Glasgow,
I wear it for the Irish Diaspora,
Who fled the famine and the crown,
I wear from Brother Walfrid
Who sheltered the poor in the east end of town.
I wear the emerald green
In memory of my father,
Garngad born,
A faithful Celtic supporter,
He walked the path to heaven,
Over ten years ago,
As he stands with Our Lord
Wearing his green, white and gold.
I wear the green for the Celtic legends,
Who have left our lives,
Knowing that they entered heaven
With Our Lord on their side,
I wear it for Willie Maley, Jock Stein
And young John Thomson,
I wear it for Bobby Murdoch, Johnny Doyle
And wee Jimmy Johnstone.
I wear the colours of Celtic,
Each and every day,
I pray for the bhoys of Parkhead each night,
And to God, I do say,
Why do all the Orangemen,
All hate the sight of green?
For green’s the finest colour
That the world has ever seen.
March’29th 2006
poem by Daniel McDonagh
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Womens Next
womens are
not sexy wear...
womens are
not beauty wear...
womens are not
funny wear...
womens are not
hotty wear...
womens are
a power wear..
in another world...
not only child birth
with hands
with brain
with works
with loves
make a new world...
tommrow...
that is day near...
very near...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I Wear A Smile
I wear a smile
that never reach my eyes.
I wear a smile
that feels misplaced.
I wear a smile
that is completely fake.
I wear a smile
to drown my sorrow.
I wear a smile
but i'm so numb.
One day this mask will break,
but then it will be too late.
poem by Precious Arroyo
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Resignation
I'd hate to be centipede (of legs I've only two),
For if new trousers I should need (as oftentimes I do),
The bill would come to such a lot 'twould tax an Astorbilt,
Or else I'd have to turn a Scot and caper in a kilt.
I'm jolly glad I haven't got a neck like a giraffe.
I'd want to tie it in a knot and shorten it by half.
or, as I wear my collars high, how laundry men would gloat!
And what a lot of beer I'd buy to lubricate my throat!
I'd hate to be a goldfish, snooping round a crystal globe,
A naughty little bold fish, that distains chemise of robe.
The public stare I couldn't bear, if naked as a stone,
And when my toilet I prepare, I'd rather be alone.
I'd hate to be an animal, an insect or a fish.
To be the least like bird or beast I've not the slightest wish.
It's best I find to be resigned, and stick to Nature's plan:
Content am I to live and die, just - Ordinary MAN.
poem by Robert William Service
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Good Advice
Open the window I need some air
So many people and theres such disorder here
Familiar faces found out lies
Turn to the street now I watch the passers by
I wonder what they recognize
And what theyd recommend to fill my days
Possessions start to wear me down
I need some good advice some good advice to wear me down
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Instead they harbor secret thoughts
They break through windows that have twice been locked
I have to walk to wear me out
I need some good advice some good advice to wear me down
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
I throw my arms and pray to leave
I gotta head for love like is inside me
My lips press tight so not to drown
I need some good advice some good advice to wear me down
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Im nervous can you help me
Give me some good advice to help me along
If I know its true
Give me some good advice to help me along
If I know its true
Give me some good advice to help me along
If I know its true
Im nervous
Give me some good advice to wear me down
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I want to find a way to reach young women emotionally and also to start providing clothing for them so that they can wear the same things their thin friends can wear. I really want to do evening wear and prom dresses for these girls.
quote by Delta Burke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who’ll Wear the Beaten Colours?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours—and cheer the beaten men?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We closed the bars and gambling dens and voted straight and clean,
Our women walked while motor cars were whirling round the scene,
The Potts Point Vote was one for Greed and Ease and Luxury
With all to hold, and coward gold, and beaten folk are we.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, with hands and pockets clean?
(I wore the beaten colours since I was seventeen)
I wore them up, and wore them down, Outback and across the sea—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We wore them back from Ladysmith to where the peace was signed,
And wore them through the London streets where Jingoes howled behind.
We wore them to the Queen’s Hall, while England yelled “Pro-Boers!”
And sat them over victory while London banged the doors.1
We wore them from Port Arthur round till all sunk in the sea—
(Who’ll wear the white man’s colours, and wear them home with me?)
I’ve worn them through with gentlemen, with work-slaves and alone—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, boys, and wear them on his own?
There’s one would look with startled eyes and shrink while I caressed,
Came I not with the colours of the conquered on my breast.
And twenty thousand Bushmen would stand with hands behind
And scorn in all their faces for the coward of his kind.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours and raise the voice they drowned—
It may be when we march again, they’ll bear some other sound—
Who’ll pin the beaten colours on and drive the beaten pen—
It may be other steel and ink when we march out again.
poem by Henry Lawson
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American Idle
An excuse
Getting through
Kick around your leeway
An idea
Overdue
Work-shy with hunger pains
Wear out your dunce's cap
Wear out your pocket flaps
But don't wear out your mind
Because you can't have mine
American Idle
Overfill your seidel
'Cause excess is romance
And everyone's convinced
Channel-surfing
Devil's food
Kick around your leeway
Snake oil rigged
Fate is sealed
Work-shy with stomach pains
Wear out your dunce's cap
Wear out your pocket flaps
But don't wear out your mind
Because you can't have mine
American Idle
Overfill your seidel
'Cause excess is romance
And everyone's convinced
poem by Michael Fischer
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2 @ Hearts
Wear...
Wear...
you are...
Wear...
Cry by male lover heart...
I don't no tell by
female heart...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I like being a woman, even in a man's world. After all, men can't wear dresses, but we can wear the pants.
quote by Whitney Houston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Wear A Joke
A wear is all of you, like me,
But when do you just wear;
The answer brings a morning ski
In snow, in too much stare.
It is the morning when we wear,
Like weddings, funerals;
To ask a man to clear is mere
Stupidity, just lulls.
I clear the weather first then pray
In one demanding joke,
But why do see just anyway
In front of who awoke?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Noise world
Every wear
Noise...
Any wear
Noise...
Every thing noice...
Noice...
Noice...
Noice is
Some wear
good..
Some wear bad...
Love the noice...
Live the noice...
With out sleep...
With out peace...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Is there anything worn under the kilt? No, it's all in perfect working order.
quote by Spike Milligan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silent world
Silent
Is wear...
Any wear
In the word
Silent
Is wear...
Every wear
Sond
Sond...
Today sonds
Is making
Silent...
Not today
One or one day
Sounds making
A silent world...
At the time
You and me
All are earth under...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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