A Rhyme-Off; Trad v. Contemp.

[MacLowlife]

KFCarter,

Weel are ye wordy of a grace as langs me arm. Thanks for starting this one.

[Ryan Ross]

I like kilts, in tartan and tweed,
But hemp kilts- Are they made of weed?
Say NO to drugs, kids... and learn to read.

[Panache]

why do we draw the line
in the white sand
to separate us from one another?

why do we need to define
where we stand
in relation to some other?

on our own couldn't we shine
with radience bright and grand
instead of needing someone else's light to cover?

show me your way I'll show you mine
offer me yours and I'll extend my hand
and stand together as children of a common mother

stronger are when our efforts we combine
wiser for the ability to share and understand
and above all else happier to be together

[BEEDEE]

Is there for honest discourse like
That raises voice, an' a' that
The contemporary, we pass him by
We dare be poor for a' that
For a' that, an' a' that
Our plaid’s obscure and a' that
The style is but the guinea's stamp
The kilt's the gowd for a' that

What though on tartan style we claim
Tweed, hoddin grey, an' a' that
Gie fools their hemp, and knaves their duck
A man's a man, for a' that
For a' that, an' a' that
Their denim show an' a' that
The kilted man, though e'er sae poor
Is king o' men for a' that

Ye see yon birkie traditionalist
Wha struts an' stares an' a' that
Tho' hundreds worship at his list
He's but a coof for a' that
For a' that, an' a' that
His nine yard kilt and a' that
The man o' independent mind
He looks an' laughs at a' that

A kilt can mak' a man a king
No matter wha’ style, an' a' that
But an honest man's aboon his might
Gude faith, he maunna fa' that
For a' that an' a' that
Their dignities an' a' that
The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth
Are higher rank that a' that

Then let us pray that come it may
(as come it will for a' that)
That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth
Shall bear the gree an' a' that
For a' that an' a' that
It's coming yet for a' that
That kilted men, the world o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that

[Ryan Ross]

If you wear a contempo-kilt to work,
Be ready to watch the public smirk.
And when your boss starts to act a jerk,
You'll likely wish you'd packed your dirk.

[RB51]

Swish and swagger as we know
causes lasses to swoon and glow,
knowing that bliss to make their day
is just a quick kilt-check away

[RB51]

step into the world
the tartan swishes softly
i am now at peace

[KD Burke]

Ok....A bit of doggerel:

I'm lately financially strained;
for a while I've had tartan on the brain!
Took myself to the clinic,
thought myself schizophrenic,
but the doc prescribed 'stilled malted grain!

KD :ootd:

[MacLowlife]

I like those kilts and i can't deny
I like those pleats on the back o my thigh
When those tassels start to shakin
A man in the kilt brings home the bacon

They want to know what's under there
They pray for wind and stand and stare
And when the man in trousers wilts
The ladies go for the ones in kilts

Highland, lowland, all the same
legs in trousers look so lame
Fix your socks and show some calf
A man in a kilt is a man and a half

[KFCarter]

why do we draw the line
in the white sand
to separate us from one another?

...

stronger are when our efforts we combine
wiser for the ability to share and understand
and above all else happier to be together

This is truly a lovely turn of verse and laudable of sentiment...
but the idea here is a joust which is meant to be a celebration of our differences... which I like to believe can be done among gentleman and gentle ladies without abandoning our different opinions, some thoughts on that below:

"After you; no no, I insist after you..."
or the Strange Case of The Lost Argument" with apologies to Odgen Nash

Let’s end diff’rences of opionion
Let’s become the grayscale’s minion
Nothing edged, nothing hued
Nothing with a charge imbued.

To cut and thrust must ought be shunned
To our own judgment be benumbed
Lest someone take a slight offense
Our sue our bones for recompense

Let’s not drink too much, nor laugh too hearty
Be too thoughtful, or too arty
Be too short, too tall, too skinny
Too fat, too loser-ish, or win-ny

Or else, let’s parry like good men
And give and get and then say “when”
Before we’re browbeat into quiet
And silenced, slink away to diet.

Yet thought tugs at the edge of brain
Kindness, mildness they’re not the same
One is bright and one is cloudy
One kicks high, the other: dowdy

So sharp your wits and grab your lances
Withhold no blow! Call ambulances!
For friends need not to all agree,
For this joust to end in amity