Darlin I just cant keep a eye on you.
Everytime I stop to relax.
I find were threw.
You say leave but dont go far.
Untill you find yourself my dear.
I'll be down at the bar.
So many moods for such a little person indeed.
Forget me when your pissed.
And call me whenever your in need.
Your love is like a brick.
It really hurts when thrown.
You left me a million messages.
Dear crazy women please leave
You dont know how to act normaly let
alone when you drink.
My darlin you dont need anything except for a
And maybe a nice straight jacket with a muzzle
After you stabbed me lastnight.
You really didnt have to call me in the hospital
and tell me were through.
They say love is sweet but this
seems more like a lemon.
The moral of this story fellas
is dont mess with crazy women.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
I may be fat but I can cook soul food to put you in a good mood I don't mean to be rude but you look like a string bean
You only know how to make sandwiches I can make steaks to take your breath away
you say I look like a steak but you can't even make a cake you need to drink more shakes
I need to eat more salads but at least I have a big wallet
I may be fat but I can dance your eyes are glued to my thighs are you hypnotize yet
Do you want to take a chance and try to beat me in dancing you can't defeat me
I can shake my hips and do flips I can drop it like its hot you can only pop that's not much
Oh, now you want to challenge me but you can't balance on the dance floor
The crowd wants to see me more you were just a bore
I may be fat but I'm the one who looks pretty in this skirt you look silly like Big Bert
You say I don't look good in a bikini because I'm not tiny but at least I'm not bony like you
You say I look like a buffalo but at least I don't have a problem finding a fellow
I don't mean to be a pest but you started this mess why don't you give it a rest
I'm fat but I'm telling you I'm the best you don't need to guess
I may be fat but I'm good at writing poetry
You say that you're good too but people are going to say boo to you
You say that isn't true and I need to pray because I won't win but I know I can
You say that people wouldn't pay cash to see me but they will chase me I have a nice ass
you say your poetry will get publish but that's only a wish I will you forgot to take your pills
Men want to be with me because I have meat on me you only have bones
You say that I don't look like a model but men want to play with me and pay me to date
I may be fat but I found a man who likes me like that but your man said you act like a brat
I'm getting married tomorrow don't feel sorrow
You can laugh but at least I'm glad that I'm not sad or bad and I'm not a brat so take that
Copyright © Ileane Ogilvie | Year Posted 2014
Well, it’s thanks to my friend, Neillie, that I'm standing here today;
He captured me down at his shop as I reached out to pay.
He said, “I have a job for you, and you've twelve weeks to prepare.”
I thought, my God - he wants his toenails clipped or help to dye his hair.
Now, a toast that's for the ladies; Lord, wherever will I start?
He said, “That's nothing rude or nothing crude, but something from the heart.”
So, I scratched my head and searched my soul; I was’nae getting far.
It seems that Neillie's harsh restrictions took out half my repertoire.
Anyway - Oh the Bard, he loved the ladies, and oh how they loved him back;
Seems a poem's all it took those days to get them in the sack.
No wonder he liked writing of the love that hid within,
Which explains his suave and healthy look, and how he kept so trim.
If only it were like that now; I’d write for all I'm worth,
Grabbing every chance I could each day to nail another verse.
And my wife, she would be pleased for me at all my new attention,
And I'd be thin from running scared from too much pain to mention.
Now, once my business took me roaming to each corner of Great Britain,
So, I catalogued the ladies; just the ones that I was smitten.
Well, Welsh girls they took hours to please, and the Irish take some beating,
And the English girls are very, very nice if your ears can take their bleating.
Ah, but Scottish girls are best by far; as steady as a rock,
But, if by chance your eye should stray, you'll wake withoot your cock.
So I married one, with no regrets; best move that I've made yet,
And I love her dear, with all my heart, in a life with no regret.
For like the Bard, I settled down when love could get no hotter,
But compared to him and his wondrous works, sure I'm just a ditty jotter.
Oh Sweet Ladies, you are dear to us - where would we be without you?
In wrinkled clothes and motley beards in a house of straw and cow poo.
Without you we would just exist - watching football in a bar;
Just sitting, drinking, laughing, eating, drinking…..and sleeping in the car.
Dear, Sweet Ladies, we don’t kid ourselves; we know you have us beat,
Hence why we hold the doors for you, and chairs each time you seat.
We love to do the chivalrous stuff - it makes us look the strongest,
You see, we have to make the most of things - you live the feckin longest.
Well, at last it’s time for me to stop - and give you chance to mingle,
And I'll make peace with my dear wife, before I'm Facebook status: single.
Now, gentlemen, I ask you all - please charge and raise your glasses,
And join me in a bumper toast: “To the beauty of the Lassies.”
Copyright © Dennis East | Year Posted 2015
FOR MEN ONLY #2Contest
Yee Haaaa--- a Contest made for me
I'm a man and should write free
With no woman to tell me what
To bend my ear and bust my nut
To nag at me, noon and night
For me to get this poem right
To correct the words that I can't spell
In this grammatical living hell
"Change that word and it won't mean that
Don't say pussy when you mean cat"
But now this contest has set me free
So, I can write more liberally
And pen this in my own rendition
That's of course dear, with your permission
Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2015
Don't rush to wash off the sea salt
drying on your skin;
the hopes it carries from other oceans,
those remain yet to be seen.
Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016
day, week, month,
year, decade, century ..
and women buying clothes
Copyright © Bill Lindsay | Year Posted 2015
When snakes had legs and love was free,
A man called Adam climbed a tree.
Although he knew the act was banned,
He plucked an apple with his hand.
In Eden you could always find,
Delicious fruits of every kind.
And everyone of them were free,
Except the apples on this tree.
A snake you see, the curse of man,
Had swayed the mind of his woman.
His partner Eve had tried it all,
Except this luscious juicy ball.
But God had made it very clear,
He was the one you had to fear.
There is one thing you should not do,
”This tree is mine, and not for you!”
When battle rages in man’s mind,
To do what’s right for all mankind.
A woman’s will, will then prevail,
No matter if it makes him fail.
So Adam plundered to his fate,
His woman said she could not wait.
He plucked the fruit to his demise,
No matter that it was unwise.
Now God’s authority was broke,
They’d disobeyed the words he spoke.
He told them both to go away,
And closed his garden from that day.
So Eve and Adam, duly clothed,
Now left that place they’d been betrothed.
And found a world so large and free,
Where they could climb just any tree.
The snake of course had lost it’s legs,
Because he put God’s power to test.
By tempting woman in this way,
He’d had an awful price to pay.
But God it was, who came off worse,
His power was gone, and even worse.
A ‘woman’ had defeated him,
By making man commit this sin.
So women now will rule the land,
Not God, or men you understand?
For women conquer all they see.
While God enjoys ‘snakes legs’ for tea!
Copyright © Ivor Davies | Year Posted 2013
Instead of being a chick magnet, my vehicle is a curse.
No woman will go out with me because I own a hearse.
I bought my hearse because it runs great and it was dirt cheap.
But when women see it, they slap my face and call me a creep.
I finally got a date with the woman of my dreams.
But when she saw my hearse, she ran and screamed.
Women don't want to make out where corpses have been.
Because of my vehicle, they won't date me, they find other men.
If you already have a bad love life, making my mistake will only make it worse.
Women will not date a man if he drives a hearse.
(I got the idea for this poem from a TV show that I saw.)
Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2016
In this world of Uncertainties
I’m the man that you can trust
And in my words of sincerity
That my love would never last.
And if you could only feel, what i feel for you
You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth
Like our love that tightens the rope,
Like a light that would give us hope.
As you watch the dark skies
Let me grab the moon for you,
And as I catch the bright stars
That’s the way you can see me through
As this planet turns as it always will
And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel
Hold my hand for it will make us strong
Like a wind, we will carry on
The wind blow that sings a hymn for you
For they know what does love means for the two
Love is blind, and not deaf
So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet?
In this poem with full of rhymes,
A full of love, Babe can you be mine?
I don’t expect too much from you
Why should I? If you complete my whole.
“Till death do us part” that’s what they have said
But why do struggles crash them ahead?
Don’t ask me when my love will last,
To count all of our quarrels, is that a must?
Now and Forever is all that I promise
No day dreaming and without reminiscence
As the matter of time, as the time passes by
Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :)
pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless
Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013
Never wear a little black dress that looks in distress or to compressed
it should always impress and softly caress.
If you wear a small but your a triple X and the length just fits under your derriere
you will surely start to unpack and start to attract.
Sitting is a challenge as you start to scoot down
you know your on a countdown and hoping for no breakdown.
At last you've hit touchdown as you take a deep breath
Only to hear a snap and pop as something starts to unlock from your famous squat.
Your self esteem has just dropped as you start to rock
from side to side you sway 'Do I sit or do I stay' as you start to pray.
With great poise and hoping for very little noise
You race for the door knowing you have to abort
taking the tablecloth with you as you deport.
1/25/15 T Reams 1st Place
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
I'm a bit confused when it comes to shoes and see a big toe that's been bruised
or the second toe is longer and trying to conquer the big toes space with an embrace
If you have this problem don't wear open toe shoes they do not amuse
but only gives us a clue you may need a canoe or a pair of tennis shoes
Why wear shoes that are four feet tall and look like a ski slope
and you walk like your on a tightrope afraid you will fall and have to crawl
If you have a toe problem don't be embarrassed a little buckle on your shoe top
will get a cute chuckle and you won't have to wear boots in that nice pants suite
T Reams 2/11/2015
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
Well it was another one of those days
Where the devil had come about
I was trying to write about the beauty of women
And the words just came right out
What I was trying to say was their all beautiful to me
And most men that I know would be sure to agree
But the words that I wrote that flew out so free
May have started a hate for me that I shall soon see
Now I'll spend my days all alone,and affraid to leave this house
For a woman might sneak up and try to strangle me with her blouse
I should have never wrote those words because I'm a spouse
And now my wife probably thinks I'm nothin more than a louse
But what I was trying to say was somethin most men will all agree
You don't need to always compare yourselves for it's something we all see
Your shoes,your clothes,your hair,your nails, it all just drives us so crazy
You all have your own beautiful look so please accept it and just let it be
I never meant to degrade you in anyway or to cause you any alarm
But the hits those words received seems like I may be heading for some harm
So I ask for your forgiveness and please don't send out your women of arms
Because I told the men in my neighborhood,and their quite handy with their charms
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2013
Women are a thing of beauty
Created by God for man
From their different hips,to their lushes lips
Or the gentle touch of their hand
They all have a way about them
That I've noticed throughout the years
They have tender hearts,and precious smiles
With beautiful eyes that sparkle,when filled with tears
But they constantly look at other women
Though none will tell you that it's true
From their styles of hair,to the clothes they ware
It's a hidden secret that they all do
Some will say that I'm wrong
As they claim,"Hey that's not me"
But I'm a man who has watched for many years
And am now exposing the secret that I've seen
Some of them are concerned about their weight
Or possibly the droopiness of their breasts
Or the stretch marks that may have appeared some where
Along with menopause,PMS,and all the rest
All I can say is we are men
Who don't really notice most of those things
You are all beautiful in your own special ways
And you will always be a part of our dreams
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2013
Firehaired love of my life;
She's almost all Cab, with a dash of Shiraz spice.
A deep and complicated, earthy wife
Who's ruby sparkle in the looking glass
Lingers long upon my vision, soft and nice;
The All-of-Her bouquet, I cannot pass.
She may prefer to drink her Cabs,
But the red-maned lioness is pure Bourdeaux.
Her brightness fills a room, and quickly nabs
Away all weak indifference.
The complexity of her shines and glows;
The product of some special provenance.
These ladies make my life divine,
An enviable medly of song and wine.
They may well land on the "NO FLY" List,
For being such charming Terroirists.
Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2012
You send bolts through my skin
something I was never to
accomplish with you, when I
saw you it's like my heart sank
to my stomach and I was in
shock my body still my body
heavy felt like when I moved I
was about to fall to my knees
you make me want to get
inside my brain pick you up and
take you out pick you one by
one like a flower because I do
love you and love you not.
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
If you see
a man opens
the car door
for a woman ....
He certainly has
a brand new car ...
or a very young
and beautiful mistress
His pride ...
a conquest ...
the gleaming varnish
reminds him of
sensual red woman lips
in his eyes -
you will always
be his number two
A-L Andresen :))
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014
Come join the three for another cheap, meaningless day in their lives
They consider themselves to be hip, part of the same sex marriage, Burly the
husband, Flo and Mary the wives
Their day always starts at the breakfast table bashing the males that exist
They wish the males could be on the endangered species list
Sometimes things change among the three, as the estrogen level rises in Burly
Once a month, she wants to be a wife and act very girly
As for Mary and Flo, they think Oprah is hot
Burly thinks Rosie O'Donnell has the goodies she so much has sought
They sip their Busch Beer out of Nascar Coozies
There is no more room for anymore women within the circle of The Three
From their point of view, all men should be women's slaves
Burly has a strong scent of Old Spice after shave
They love watching domineering women type movies
The popcorn is shared by all Three Floozies
They go out to only all girls clubs
They cheer on the under dogs, their favorite one is the Chicago Cubs
Their closets are full of clothes by Dickies
They leave each other love notes on little stickies
Mary likes champagne on a store brand soda budget
Flo likes Butterbeans with cumin to make them smell pungent
Burly likes Pickled Eggs and sardines
Burly's favorite movie line is In space no one can hear you scream
Flo's favorite movie line is Go ahead, make my day
Mary's favorite movie line is My name is Chucky, do you wanna play?
Burly dreams of one day wrestlin' steers
Mary is concerned that Burly one day will leave, that's her worst fear
Flo watches the WWE, she is such a loyal fan
Burly uses her forehead to smash empty beer cans
None of you are mothers, so on your peanut butter selection, quit being choosy
Mary, Flo and Burly are today's Three Floozies
Copyright © Eugene Carmen | Year Posted 2008
I have heard: Women burn fat almost 10% slower than men
It's does not feel justified
I have heard: Women live on average 3 years longer than men
Women have a better durability date (used before: .. - ... - .....)
Men: (must be used within: .. - .. - ....)
Why is it only women who are thinking about calories and diets
I bake delicious cakes .... that can only be eaten by my husband
..... I think I'll try one more piece :)
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013
Some say my cousin got around
passing on his bloodline
young and wild with a strong esteem
no matter who it was
Shame his bloodline has family ties
one was his sister Jean
his Pop's found out, boy what a scene
now I know why he's blind
T Reams 3/26/2015 contest sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
'Let Me Feel Your Lines #6 bloodline
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
If women ruled the world
I'd have a sex change and be a girl
If you can't beat em
Peter Dome. Copyright.2015.May.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2015
Before the "I do" she must choose
A man that does well in dance shoes
His psyche gives a clue
When employing step two
Ply him to the limit with booze
Copyright © Duke Beaufort | Year Posted 2013
A Dozen ways in which women confuse men: A Sarcasm Piece by a Confused Man
I set out to accomplish what’s considered by most to be an impossible feat
I somehow wanted to summarize the ways women confuse me
As you all know this is quite the task
A challenge which may not have an answer
In actuality there could be a text entitled
The Infinite ways in which women Confuse men
As I obtained a massively excruciating headache
I pondered the o’ so many ways women confuse men
Miraculously I boiled it down to a mere dozen
A dozen which I have so kindly compiled here for you
The order they are delivered is of no importance
What is though, is the message this simple man is trying to get across
Confusion #1 is that you say you want a nice guy
But your choices show otherwise
As you always choose the bad boy
For there is a reason the saying nice guys finish last was invented
And still exist today
Confusion #2 is you women and your hormones
Women’s hormones fluctuate more often that the South Carolina weather
We poor men are neither intelligent enough nor hardwired
To deal with someone that is happy one second
Then crying over their toenail polish the next
Confusion #3 is that Just like Jennifer Aniston in The Breakup
Women tell men, that they want them to want to wash the dishes
Ladies, what does that statement even mean?
What man in his right mind wants to want to wash the dishes?
Confusion #4 is that women say that they are or want to be independent
Yet they call us for little things
Like to kill a spider
Confusion #5 is that not all, but a large quantity fuss at their man about having a 5’oclock shadow
But yet during Winter
You ladies climb into bed with Sasquatch legs
Confusion #6 is that once again not all, but a large quantity tell their man he should bulk up
But then you gain a measly pound or two
Say you need to diet
So we, your man, too must now diet
Confusion #7 has to deal with women walking in during football games
You walk in, say, “You know I hat sports,”
Grab the remote, change the channel to Gilmore Girls
Then yell and handcuff us men to the couch
As we try to leave and watch the game in another room,
Saying, “We never watch what I like.”
Confusion #8 deals with how women subtly tell men thing
A woman casually buys a pair of jeans for her man the next size up for him to wear
Subtly telling him he is gaining weight
However, when a man does the same
Women yell, cry, and say we are jerks
(Guys trying to be nice this way results in a loss
It cost us males any sort of sexual intercourse
Possibly resulting in flowing tears from that male
As he cries confused as to why his woman is upset
It’s not as if he called her fat)
Confusion #9 deals with women and the favorite article of clothing
You say that we have a certain article of clothing that you love
When we do wear this favorite article though on a couple of date nights
You tells us we wear the same thing too often
Confusion #10 deals with sexual glances
You ladies fuss at us about staring at your breast
As you so casually gaze at our groins
(Yes for all you that did not know
Groin gazing is a thing)
Confusion #11 deals with deception
Women confuse us men so much
That when you cheat on us
We want to fight the other man
While this may be the result of male stupidity
More so than the genius of how women confuse us
Arguments can be made either way
Confusion #12 deals with vanity
See you ladies tell us men that looks don’t really matter
That personality tis what matters most
But in your purse you carry
$200 worth of Lancome makeup
After compiling this list
Once again another thunderous headache arose
I consumed a Goody
And reflected upon the words I did write
Then I did ponder
What would be on a list composed by thee?
What about men confuses Women?
As I thought, I came upon a sad realization
Women would not be able to compose a book
In fact all the probably could create is a list
See, men are much more simple and complacent
In other words, we me are too simple
Too simple to be confusing
One day though I hope to read such a list
Though I think it will be half as long
Copyright © Kody Walters | Year Posted 2015
Never treat a woman
like an object.
Copyright © Bill Lindsay | Year Posted 2015
follow on facebook,
adore on pinterest,
fall in love on instagram,
kiss on a hunch,
all under a tree.
Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016
The Cyber Nymph
Loch David Crane
August 18, 1997
Lie back--expose your belly ring
up unto the sky. . .
I just hope when I get down close
it won't put out my eye!
That summer I was 48
and she pert 25;
I left Prozac in the cupboard
and Reality went Live.
I shoulda taken time to stop
and used the vorpal rubber
But 48 he couldn't wait
to find another lover.
So while the Sun was merciless
to sand and skin and sea
"If she swells I'm sure she'll tell,
returning then to me."
I must admit I got her drunk--
I used her just for sex:
Blue and blond with freckles,
suntanned buns and pecs.
But she revealed computer skills
That took away my breath.
Her dancing cyber fingers sang;
I soon saw who was best.
Ol' 48 could bare compute
"Not very fast" she said;
"I've practiced years not to be fast"
gasped I, collapsed in bed.
Then the Sun warmed up the honey--
it dripped twice more in a row.
Ulysses' "rosy-fingered dawn"
beheld her frown, dress, and go.
That freshly-flossed feeling
reverberates my spine
A smile wells up from deep inside
and stays there all the time.
At play I watched this cyber nymph
on Netscape and E-mail;
Her eyes flashed, fingers flying,
shaking golden ponytail.
"You're kinda slow," she grumbled,
"But I like that in a man," she grinned,
making me feel great.
My old 12 color monitor
was not enough for her;
More movies, GIFs, and videos
flew by me in a blur.
But 48 he had a trick:
while she stared at the screen
I spoke in her ear, nibbled her neck,
and adored her like a Queen.
I kissed and bit and licked and squirmed
'til wrists and spine went quiet--
The way a mouse's legs go still
when python's on his diet.
And then the honey dripped once more,
the Sun was past its rise.
I felt its rosy hug and knew
that love was in my eyes.
I asked her for her address,
she wrote with @ in code;
I said "I'm too old fashioned"
and asked for her telephone.
So when you dream, sweet 25,
tall cyber nymph of mine,
remember please old 48
who isn't past his prime.
And as the honey of the Sun
drips down into the sea
I'll recall my Cyber Nymph
and she will undelete me.
Copyright © Loch David Crane | Year Posted 2014
I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2012
She placed her arms around,
And clasped her hands pressing her chest closer
Not uttering a sound
Her movements were poetry in motion
She was dedicated with a passion
Her gaze was a hypnotic potion
As she stood with her legs slightly astride
She put her all into it
Her femininity she did not hide
With my cup of tea, I admire her from afar
As she wrestles the Ikea flat pack from out of the car
Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011
A spanking good tale
I read a blog -was it only yesterday
I haven’t laughed so much, I can truly say
About large women and I will not make fun
That’s because I am turning into one
But the blog that I read proved there is hope for all
As long as we can make sausages, if I recall
A massage or two with a pin rolling flat
Is it to iron out wrinkles or reduce the fat?
A spank a day or so I have heard
Is what middle age men like, but girls think absurd
A front bum, well that’s a new one on me
I have enough in the rear to perhaps make up three
But what gives me hope, apart from the front bum thing
Is that some men out there seem to enjoy this sort of thing
So send me you dreams followed by your numbers too
I’ll put them aside for when I’m ready for you
So thank you Chris for your blog yesterday
You have given hope to all women and that’s all I can say
Inspired By Chris D Aechner's Blog 15/02/2012
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012
My tale about the barnacle I bared upon my bum
has now passed into legend and folk law
The battle I thought was over and now long done
Just when I thought I could sit down and relax
and lick my wounds
and heal my poor bum
I now have two barnacles
clinging on instead of one.
Their jealous of each other
and like a porcupines
my bum is very sore
I'm stuck in the middle
and I don't think I can take any more!!!!!.
My telephone is melting
and they push love notes through my door
I'm divided down the middle
and I'm preparing for war.
I have no idea why they follow me around like flies
maybe it's my aftershave that smells so nice
There's nothing about me
I do declare
but everytime I turn around
there's always someone there.
Why couldn't it ever be
who I really like
I even tried to escape on my motorbike last night
I thought I was just saddle sore
but latter when I pulled my trousers down
what did I see
not two barnacles but three.
I darn't leave the house no more
and I've barricaded myself in
I'm now a nervous wreck
and I've taken to drinking Gin
I've sealed the letter box and took the phone of the hook
and have been searching amazon for a useful book.
If your a poor sufferer too
have a hammer and chisel
we can help each other get through
just bare your bum like me
and maybe we could throw the barnacles back into the sea.
''Beware! their out there''.
Peter Dome. copyright.2014.march.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014
Don't ask me how it happened; I have no clear recollection. I have always had this brazen habit of coming right out and directly asking for whatever I want; I always figured "no!" was the only worst possible outcome, aside from a good cussing, perhaps. Either or both I can handle.
My best friend, who had invited me to this event, wasn't even a speaker; she was just present for class credit and I had nothing better to do so I happily joined her. Her professor was the director, or MC, of the night's festivities and proceedings and Jill introduced us soon after we entered the banquet hall and before the speaking commenced.
I also have this horrid habit of mentioning that I am an artist to anyone of any importance or significance whatsoever, hoping to sound gallant and impressive. I can only surmise that Jill's teacher asked me what kind of artist I was, and I must have boldly stated, with an air of haughty confidence no doubt, that I was a de facto grand poet of the ages. I was only 19 at the time and thought I was Poe! My style was sloppy and unrefined, but I didn't know it yet.
Given that this was a "Women's Studies" organization and all guest speakers that night were, obviously, going to be female, I don't know how I convinced, finagled, schemed, bulled, or mechanized my way into making myself an impromptu speaker as well that evening. It was an "anything goes" type platform, from women reading poetry to short stories, to essays or presenting artwork. I was, I kid you not, the first male to EVER be a speaker at this "Women's Studies" gathering.
Having committed many of my poems to memory, I just quickly jotted down four or five particular favorites, and when it was my time to speak, impertinently stepped right up to the platform, adjusted the microphone, and recited my horrible poetry to a group of...I'm not sure if "feminists" is quite the word for which I am searching. Let's just say that if Gloria Steinem or Gertrude Stein had been in the audience, I might have been yanked off the podium. So there I was, babbling about, having basically crashed this Feminist rally. That I wasn't mauled or had my eyes scratched out can only be attributed to luck, progressive-thinking, guardian Angels or plain ol' polite courtesy. In retrospect, I blanch at the thought of my shameless, unabashed audacity.
I would love to know whether any more males ever took part in anymore of their events, but I guess I'll never know and can only hope that little bit of history I made that night remains intact. True story.
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2014