Best Estrogen Poems
I, who always used to gravitate toward health and fitness,
would flatter myself that I was too healthy to ever get a bad disease.
Then it happened! A lump - most inurbane -
had decided to invade one of my breasts.
There was nothing perspicuous about that tumor.
My first whole month consisted of going from one test to another
just to determine if it was malignant.
In my new surreal world, everything seemed to alienate me from normalcy.
Surely, I thought, my body is simply being capricious.
I kept believing that the crazy tumor would be ruled benign.
Surely my worries and my biggest looming fear soon would dissipate.
Then I got the verdict – second stage cancer.
Told it was a less invasive type, I felt a little reassured.
But after surgery, another test revealed I was high risk for it returning.
My condition is far from transitory.
If it lived inside me still, it would attack with vengeance were it to grow.
I did the radiation I was told to do
but turned down the chemotherapy.
The tumor, after all, had been removed.
Through prayer, I believe God guided me
to sources that informed me of other precautions
better for me than chemotherapy.
I can make bad genetics my scapegoat,
along with the weirdness of estrogen, which drove it to my breast.
My body betrayed me, but millions are victims of this disease each year.
For now, I am surviving and doing it wonderfully.
I search for more preventative solutions
through such things as exercise and healthy eating.
Perhaps I mainly get by with support from friends and family
and most certainly, from simply LOVING life
that by God’s grace,
victorious I may remain!
Revised for Julie Rodeheaver's "I'm a Survivor" Contest
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a gun
Low self-esteem wanting popularity,
gather together in small clusters
Grapes of wrath ... attack anybody
who try to break the bind
Verbal popping every moving target
in the movie theater line
Estrogen cries when the dust clears,
another reject cherry fell off the vine
Teachers can’t separate the sisterhood bond,
boyfriends ain’t nothing but pretty toys
Cat fights and tussles are only loud noise,
a lot of ugly ducklings swimming in the pond
Clique ... clique
Squeeze off another round
Mile high dreams everybody in the group got,
but somebody is creeping ... talking behind their back
A poser is in the midst,
and the leader is gonna handle it
Put a cheesy lip rumor in the mouse trap,
throw a house party and hire a band
Thieving eyes which covets your man,
catch ‘em in the act, give ‘em a double tap
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a gun
that’s loaded with angst bullets
And everybody’s been shot by one
Lip blasting every moving target
in the stadium ticket line
Testosterone cries when the dust clears,
another reject berry fell off the vine
Parents can’t separate the brotherhood bond,
girlfriends ain’t nothing but pretty toys
Fistfights and scraps are only loud noise,
a lot of ugly ducklings swimming in the pond
Clique ... clique
Squeeze off another round
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a smoking gun
Give your friend a cigarette,
urge them to try one
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a smoking gun
Give your friends the bottle of hooch,
urge them to try some
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a smoking gun
So hit the brakes hard,
you little Bonnie and Clydes
or your life will be in for
a shoot ‘em up, bang bang ride
Foxy ponytail got a sharp tongue,
her pretty jade eyes blink-blink lashes
really cut to the chase
Keep the skirt hounds on the run,
obsession scent spur their mad dashes
Her pause give ‘em all a digital trail erase
She cracks the estrogen whip ...
let cheeky fools taste the pointed quip,
if they don’t mane macho lying back down
Amelia Earhart flygirl cool attitude,
soaring pioneer spirit air-to-ground
Indie Anna Jones' outback boots
love kicking the salty sea dogs around
Never yet met a man to meet her match;
to strike her fire
with a sincere, fingertip touch
Self-reliant souls are the hardest catch,
free space desire
oxygenate a bonding kiss rush
Indie Anna Jones
is looking for the next archeology dig site
to soul carbon date
So dust off the adventurous bones,
have a hopeful heart that’s gonna do right
And you just Dr. Feelgood might
be her perfect mate
Do you remember old aunt Julie
In a hurry she opened all the windows
Even in the middle of the winter,
rain or storm
She suddenly needed to have fresh air
Breathed like a whale
The face changed color
Her cheek, ear and throat became deep red
Talked louder than normal
She was a comic figure
We were just young children
did not understand
The years go by ...
we are there ourselves
Hormonal hot flashes
I'm smiling by the old memories
Aunt Julie's advice was;
No estrogen supplements or pills ... but ...
...... Ice cold champagne ......
04.08.2017
- Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
- Copyright © All Rights Reserved
2/8/17
Straight, curvy and bumpy roads
Some with cones
All across the globe
Tools made of stones and from bones
Got to stay in the zone
Wherever I may roam and rove
Certain boards bowed
And automobiles had to be towed
Money being owed
And loaned
Waters with or without foam
And lawns that do or don't have gnomes
Regardless of if the grass was or wasn't mowed
Above and below
Where waters flow
By way of the crow
Or as it was written in an ancient tome
In areas with buffalo
Troves hidden in coves
And groves
And other places unknown
Every since way long ago
Time has shown
Tasks done alone
And on one's own
Experiments involving clones
And surveillance done with drones
Faraway and nearby home
And any other abode
Hung up the phone
If it wasn't about money, then quickly came the dialtone
Due to the weather events getting postponed
Skills and wisdom are important to hone
Whether you're full of estrogen or testosterone
Coagulated blood was found on a robe
While it snowed
The full moon glowed
Near the motherlode
Located at a node
Time seemingly sped up or slowed
Objects getting thrown away and sewed
Meanwhile the population continued to explode
In and out of areas that did or didn't errode
Old and new episodes
Information and emergency calls being radioed
Items made with many materials, sometimes chrome
Or silicone
Stadiums with or without a dome
Capable of being able to fully close
Within and beyond areas that have or haven't been combed
Better stay on your toes
Continuing to row
As the wind does or doesn't blow
Effects ripple and domino
Despite if you have or haven't chose
Because that's how life goes
Stay sharp and composed
By: Dalton Ogletree
She’s so neg neurodegenerative,
so womb retro Neanderthal
Her backward moving bellow decisions
aren’t thoroughly modern mellow
Got lip kicker high heels
that testosterone neuter kills
Miss So and So
loves to cold-heartedly
iron cast her anvil anger with
dragon breath death blows
She’s so con method constrictive,
so anaconda pocket squeeze avarice addictive
Those boa belly estrogen rolls
always take their masculine squeal toll
Her every hip sway diamondback pulse suggestion
is cobra hardwired for a vow recoil bosom confession
Miss No Good So and So
is a sultry eyelash she-devil
Delivering a bottomless pit of insomnia pain
everywhere she pillow goes
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
Floozies
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
Apparently it’s a p**is that makes a man these days
Never mind the testosterone that fuels an angry craze
A testosterone filled vag**a made of real human flesh
Seems way better than an estrogen filled p**is in a dress
This muted feeble phalange is a danger to our most revered
And a rugged hairy man-looking "girl" is never to be feared
People feel safe around an anxious displaced bearded “woman”
-Especially in private while getting ready and peeing in the can-
Far more comfortable than a meek soft tender "man" in heels
Applying makeup, fixing her hair, and living her own ideals
It seems as though people are allowed to be people these days
Which is fine as long as no one is comfortable in their own ways
And protection of the righteous ones (especially those with green eyes)
Supersedes the basic rights of a lesser class lacking moral tithes
So in that case, send the angry misplaced stubbly “woman” instead
Our daughters can handle that much more than a p**is walking dead.
What can a bewildered brotha’ say,
it happens every unnatural day
Sunshine is labeled as shade,
crystal clear is called opaque fade
Did I make a left turn
into the wrong dimension?
Now I’m seeing curvaceous things
that Nana never mentioned
Me rearview mirror eyes are
side-swipe swivel swerve widening
Was there a hot-iron cool downgrade,
firebrand placed
on my Ocho Rios dreadlock upbraids?
Puff kings are turning into drag queens ...
strange flesh doings,
I-and-I now be-be first-hand witnessing
Boys are turning into girls,
and those goatee girlz are turning into scrotum women
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m living in
Sodom and Gomorrah again
Girls are turning into boys,
and those bosom boyz are turning into vulva men
Now, I’m not for sight sure,
just what glassy gaze starry eyes blurry,
rest beyond the dress curtain
Surprises a-plenty are in store,
when it’s uncertain
what’s behind the gender door
Don’t wanna make the wrong turn,
and roll into the surreal fifth dimension
Twilight Zone neon strip is on burn,
whatcha’ see
might require psychiatric intervention
Girls are turning into boys,
and those boyz are turning into Venus men
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m Sin City living in
ancient Egypt Greece again
Boys are turning into girls,
and those girlz are turning into Mars women
Puff kings are turning into drag queens ...
strange flesh doings
It’s an open-closet psychotropic skin scene
Another brother daisy duke
exhale exigent cross-dress pollination
Pubic bramble bush adolescent tumble,
take a different genitalia turn from
a same sister butch duchess
Boys are turning into girls,
and those girlz
are turning into testosterone women
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m Zion living in
Babylon Rome again
Girls are turning into boys,
and those boyz
are turning into estrogen ova men
Momma drag queens
are the former Daddy puff kings
Nothing on the surface is
quite biological what it seems
Id feelings of a sorrowful kind,
have me heart sprout creeping ivy
of eunuch tear yearning
for a Garden of Eden spiritual awakening
And impotent thoughts of mine
are starting to grow
down below, in-between
Cold needs warmth
sky reflex's blue
singular morphs to plural
rough requires smooth
blindness seeking sight
testosterone = estrogen
blackbird = songbird
poet lives for poetry
poet + poet
Ambitious once, a baseball pro,
For sure I thought I’d be,
But games I watch now let me know
Old men are just like me.
In fact today to Minute Maid
I went to cheer the ‘Stros
And harshly learned all those who played
Held heads grey barely knows.
In bleachers near another chap
With pecs transformed to flab,
Exclaimed in bold “Forget this crap!”
“Let’s go to Marble Slab!”
How strange, I thought, this guy would leave
Before the game began,
While still his spouse, if you’ll believe,
Remained though left her man.
Now curious, I had to ask
So then approached his wife,
I said, “What gives? Where hides your flask?”
“What booze supplied this strife?”
She said, “No-no, let me explain”
In deeper voice than mine,
“We’re not from here, we’re from New York
And both steer clear of wine”
“What happened was, in our hotel,
An accident to moan,
Poor Charlie grabbed my Estrogen
And I Testosterone.”
9/19/2016
Submitted for Sara Kendrick's Which of the Four
Would you Choose Contest
With body and mind you respond to my touch,
gobbling up kisses, like sweet penuche,
I could not ask for a better lover; there is nonesuch.
When I grind my gears, you become my clutch
and I lean on you like an emotional crutch.
A magic elixir, you quench my heart
like sweet nectar, neither bitter nor tart.
Forged on passion's anvil, your lovemaking's an art.
And paused on the moment, my smile presses restart.
Your granite body buffed to a sheen
has a vulnerable heart; you're not a machine.
And yet, you make the impossible look routine.
With rippled muscles, as though chiseled from stone,
you're a warm schnook where dreams have blown,
You're the wind in my sails, without uttering a sound.
Behind the scenes, you don't speak much,
but like dawn's first light, you offer a new start.
Cushioning my falls, you spot me on life's trampoline
and somewhere between estrogen and testosterone
you find balance, both feet firm on the ground.
(Minuanetta)
1/26/2018
Alova ...
she’s the leaven princess
of oven bosom tear oppression
Her violet Persian neutering rug
has the sterile stench of
cougar mating feral aggression
It’s her purple passion
to Farsi emasculate with femme fatale hate
She’s a hardcase lover in a hardcore way
Alova is the Iron Mistress of Mellat Park,
a long dungeon drop from Brewster Bay
Alova she loves
scratching post, bent-knee coin proposals
Put her claws into the prenuptial loopholes,
and her lethal legal clause
always grab hold
of the moneyed beau mice —
Never letting go
At least, not until the cash settled divorce
is divided asset final: Platinum blonde mink coat credit portfolio
Golden parachute, silver safety net ~ Diamond and pearls ruby eject
Alova
Alova
Alova
is the self-flagellated chant of the Shushun purse palace sad
Alova is at her panther pouncing best at being sensuously bad
Alova ...
she’s the lynx queen of a cuckold, cheetah harem
The docile male lying pride
do as their told, with no nay say
Alova loves estrogen marking her eye bow territory
with an icy pleasure pheromone cold spray:
{Alova’s leather-tip tongue
make the powerful egos fetal prone beg
in every dog collar way}
Alova
Alova
Alova
how you treat me so bad,
is the “you’re no-goody” domineering chant
she loves to make ear kneel
every stiletto heel day
You shake your mandrill fist angrily
towards the sky
Epithet accusations hurled at God
Unrighteous indignation
rest uncomfortably
within your flat bosom
Testosterone milk
feeds your androgyny grief
You feel that your womanhood
never grew properly ...
enamel deficient of estrogen teeth
Born with male genitalia,
the mirror always reflect a female image
in your handmaiden eyes
Walking thru life
wearing a muscular disguise
is impure womb agony
Misogyny self-violence done within;
birth raped,
and weaned on silence
Queen bull dyke over your girlfriends,
gives you a pleasurable feeling
of dominance
But the tears flowing
from your androgyny grief
keep the fears growing,
Your better self a-long time stolen,
turned you into a joy thief
Lack of acceptance of God’s choice,
has left you gender blind
And those androgynous tears
are gonna
make your eyes stay forever moist
For the inner peace
you desire,
you will never surrogate find
By Laura D
August 20, 2016
Today you told me something i couldn't beleive
Just give one more day so that I can grieve
I love you so much, can't you just stay?
Stay the same way as you are today
I don't understand this poor decision
I even broke it down to long division
It's disgusting you sick piece of ****
Haven't you thought of the life that you get?
This isn't what I wanted for you, my son
See, this is why you love the sight of a gun
Just fix the sickness that you have inside
I'm here for you; please don't run and hide
Laura, you say? Oh well, it still sounds ok
You're Kevin to me dispite what you say
You're changing every day, im so damn scared
It's falling down your neck; the golden blonde hair
What was so wrong with who you used to be?
I saw you were sad, but couldnt you have told me?
I see you suffering now with a head full of estrogen
I hope you know what you're doing, please send me a telegram
I feel you slipping away into countless shades of gray
But you smile in your eyes where the soul never lies
I still love you now that it's a daughter I see
Enjoy the brand new lips, tattoos and hips, it's everything you hoped to be
I'm here where you need me.
No other place I possibly could be