Best Genitalia Poems
Faulty biology adds a perfect suffering
Tears in my throat leave me weakly stuttering
Fear, pain, and angst leaves my body cold and shuddering
Dark thoughts make me unconscious, slumbering
I ask about your day and leave your soul merely ignored
A lack of words, useless screams onto the lord
Of which I lack belief, although desperation cold
Closes shut my eyelids and embraces my own soul
No one seems to notice all the pain which I withhold
Abort physical pain and the infinite dysphoria
Add the opposite of pleasure and orgasmic euphoria
The result is numbness in an infinite dystopia
I see 2 men in the mirror like I'd suffer from dyplopia
I feel sickness for myself as a man with autophobia
I vomit blood, I've cracked my skull because of nausea
My lack of genitalia leaves me with phantom limbs
I can't really describe it more than limbs that don't exist
Will I ever be okay, or will this pain persist?
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
I am wanting to look good.
It is high time that I should
The mirror in the wardrobe told me so
I am now no longer fit
Just an old decrepit git
Who lost his youthful figure long ago
My hair is going grey
Doesn’t look like it will stay
My teeth are on the sideboard in a glass
I’ve somehow lost my zip
and put inches on my hip
I spend too much time sitting on my ****
If I’m not consuming grub
I’ll be boozing down the pub
At keeping fit I am an abject failure
And when I’m in the nude
My belly does protrude
So much so that I cant see my genitalia
I must go on a diet
I know that I should try it
No more Pork Pies, Sausage Rolls or Steak and Chips
No more will I take on
A sandwich of bacon
For I wish to reclaim those snake like hips
I think I’ll make a pledge
To eat only fruit and veg
I will cut out beer and wine and stuff like that
If I tell the truth
My cholesterol’s through the roof
Yet I’ve never been unhappy being fat
I was reared on bread and lard
So I sometimes find it hard
To take on board the things my Doctor said
I tell you I’m not joking
I enjoy food, beer and smoking
And as for my old Doctor, well he’s dead.
So should I reduce my food?
I’m not really in the mood
As I sit here watching Masters Chefs on telly
And when I’m no longer here
There’s no need to shed a tear
Just be happy that I went with a full belly.
Bugger the diet!!!!!!!
In the state of being equal,
Especially in status quo,
Rights, and opportunities not always shown.
Fairness
Justness
Equability
Impartiality
Even-handedness
not in this reality
I am a woman of the gender species
Speaking up loud, and bold for equality
Empowerment
Equal within interests, activities
Clothed consideration if able
Allow me to do it
Empowerment
Though, genetically-genitalia differences
Doesn’t necessary mean, we of different gender
Can’t hang, nor handle
Empowerment
Understandings of gender continually evolve
If we can handle it.
If it don’t hurt me short term or long term
If I can learn it, allow me to own it
Allow us to get along with it; In the course of a person's life,
The interests, activities, professions these are considered the domains of ...equal access
Enjoy the same rights, resources,
Opportunities and protections.
It does not require that girls and boys, or women and men,
be the same, or that they be treated exactly alike."
Allow me to do it
Empowerment
Though, genetically-genitalia differences
Doesn’t necessary mean, we of different gender
Can’t hang, nor handle
Empowerment
Understandings of gender continually evolve
If we can handle it.
Just allow me to do it if I’m able equally…
Same rights, resources, Gender equality
Allow me, to be free…
Empowerment
Allow me, to be free… Gender equality
Gender Equality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann |
A fellow who hailed from Australia
Had quite oddly shaped genitalia
At each sexual encounter
Before he could mount her
Her laughter ensured total failure
Does she want her very own vagina?
Yes, M to F trans girl...
Does she really really want a vagina?
It's like wanting to invert your fingers to
Make a mouth... No air could get through...
It wouldn't be able to speak...
But I'm sure you could get it to move
Well enough that you could lip sync...
Dress it up in drag and perform.... Not that
Vaginas perform... Welllllll... Never mind
Does he want to be a girl ?
Yes, M to F trans girl.
Does he really really want to be a girl?
To many, it's like saying you are gonna transition
To become a dog...
"So I've started barking... its gonna
take a while until I sound just like a dog...
I go to the plastic surgeon next week
To get my tail... I've started peeing on the
Bushes... Will you walk me on a leash?"
Fact: When babies are born, we decide if
they are a boy or a girl according to
Their genitalia... All of a sudden,
liberals tell people that genitalia
doesn't determine gender...
We are confusing the common person,
And at times, it even confuses me...
So if she looks like a man in a dress, why
Should she be offended if people confuse
Pronouns? If they knew her as a man her
Entire life, how can she expect them to
Transition with her when it took her this
Long just to confront the fact that she may
Be a girl, and she hasn't even tried on a dress
Yet...?
This is a song from their perspective.
I get that others don't understand. But
before you slaughter everyone who doesn't
comprehend, please look at the fact that
that you didn't understand it for a long time
either, it's why it took you so long to come out.
If this pisses you off, you've lost compassion
for many of the people who may be your allies
if you'd just know that our culture has trained
us incorrectly. It's not an attack or a threat,
This is the stress of change. Forgive us.
C*nt is the oldest word
the only word
for female genitalia
it also means cow
Every farmer knows
the cow means more
than an unborn calf
~The Insolent Rib
Its the last minute of the 11th hour
I have seen a demon wondering searching for a soul
A priest coveting the ass of another man's woman at church
Convince people you have a speed dial to God's Kingdom
And they will take any theological theories given to them
They worship sophisticated stone deities.
Emmanuel TV, electromagnetic Gods in static images
Composers of the reverse version of the Holy grail
Cursing God, misquoting scriptures and reversing verses
Misleading women like Hershey's Kisses and forbidden pleasures
The fabric of our species is a loose canon
The revelations post-predicted by the real Mayans
The apocalypse.
Its the last minute of the 11th hour
This poem is not against the church
It speaks for Rhodes, Selassie and Robert Moffat
New disciples that walked the deserts of Africa
The founders and architects of God's synagogues
Scribers that wrote covenants in caves at Timbuktu
Puthadikobo, Livingstone, and Thabanchu
Monasteries with no Automated Teller Machices on their walls
This poem is not against Anglicans, Catholics or Apostles
Its an allegory against those that spit on the chapel alters
The bishops and priests with their filthy urethrae
Their genitalia submerged in the oral cavities of alter boys
Seeking head in return for blessings, deliverance and confessions
Fake Joshuas who plant placebo demons and exorcise them for fame
The same devils that preach at the podium of cathedral portals
Dangerous men, listened and worshiped by millions
I m not against the church.
I believe in Muhammad and Jesus all the same
And the sacred message they bring supreme
From Judah through Jordan and the rivers of Ethiopia
I stand firm against Lucifer's devices.
In the face of damnation an entire nation has succumbed
The devil puts in more work than Jehovah's witnesses
Such a beautiful genus undone at the seams by its own beliefs
Victims of natural selection and ever-upgrading IQs
Each generation figures they can be better than their creator
Separationists led by confused evangelists
I m not against the church. I m against religion
I have seen a demon at church searching for lost ones
A priest coveting the ass of another man's woman at church
Its the last seconds of revelation's last moments.
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
“Boys will be girls,
and girls will be boys”
Utter false parenting
The power of impotent suggestion
by the ignorant immature
God made the male and the female;
and at birth,
it’s womb evident navel plain to tell
Gomorrah girls will be Bela boys
Changed genitalia minds
are gonna walk
down the aisle
like a Bride of Frankenstein
Gather ‘round the closet campfire,
Darwinian boys and girls
Listen to some evolutionary jock shock tales
of baseball leather love
for hard diamonds and cold pearls,
stroked by velvet gloves
Id disorientation: It’s a New Age sexual theme,
the corporate suits
sell a lot of hybrid products of male femininity
And even more of the hormonal reverse it seems
Bela boys will be Gomorrah girls
Changed genitalia hearts
are gonna hit
dat adder moving, morality target
with da Cinderfella darts
Bearded boys
razor living in their estrogen doll houses
Ponytail girls
panty changing into testosterone spouses
Unnatural selection ... spiritual rebellion
Gomorrah girls playing mean soldier boy games,
Bela boys singing girl blues, such a bosom shame
The more bod sexes make the gender change,
the pod mental breakdowns all look the same
Third gender is so androgynous wrong,
Mrs. Lara Croft once was Mr. Indiana Jones
And future tomb raiders are gonna find
a third gender class of human gen-eng bones
Lofty laboratory gender transformation
of the surgically altered physique
Changed body ID specimen specification,
third choice oft be motive oblique
Bela boys love to role like a girl,
Gomorrah girls dress play the other way
Unnatural selection ... Zeboiim hellion
Girls changing into boys,
and boys changing into girls
As the natural light dims,
dark Admah desire
changes the face of the world
I'm Not in Love? Or I'm Not in Love? Or I'm Not in Love?
(A very sweet song, do you remember it from the late 1970s 10CC?)
It appears that we can never distinguish between
'The Beat' and 'The Beast'
'Love' and 'Lust'
'Love' and 'SEX' or
Venus? and Mars?…
I must say, 'Ambiance' I prefer to 'The Beat'
Most times
But lack of 'Ambiance' leads to
'Lust' for 'The Beat'; or 'Beast'
Or both?
Abstinence my friend would put the music business out of action!
For example, I abstained from listening to Roxy –
Did they sing 'Come on Eileen'?
Or were they the backing group for Bryan Ferry?…
Anyway, they disappeared –
…too many people were abstaining to buy!?
Yeah?
Yeah.
But really – what are Love Songs?
Anyway…
Hey you, I need a Friend',
But don't bend, cos, we both are bro, u, u, thers
Looks to me like what some call the evolution of the species
(homosexuality - it's on its second round!)
…is really not good (oh oh, oh oh,)
For males; cos females have both genitalia in the embryonic state
and via the process of evolution will turn into
Androgynous beings…
Oh dear, where would the music business be then? –
Eh, eh,
Full of Androgynous clones?
Or
Erogenous zone, oh ohnes…
Or Bowie 'Comin out' he/s clo oh onez (David was the only he/she I know who
went from 'he/s' to 'he' rather than 'she'?) I love him so very much!
Oh yeah...
If you turn this page on its side, the lines resemble an electronic lie detector or
an electronic heart beat monitor printout? I can't distinguish between neither of
these either. You should 'Go Ask Alice'.
Holocaust
After the war - late forties and the fiftyish
Magazines often published grizzly pictures
Of Jews being murdered for being Semitic.
Newspapers and magazines do not publish
Such photos anymore- perhaps rightly,-
They may give us nightmares.
Two old men and a boy standing at the edge
Of a mass grave, the three held their hands
Modestly over their genitalia.
German soldiers around and a civilian man
With a hunting rifle he was there
To bag a Jew.
What happened to the civilian after the war?
Probably he survived and lived a long life
Somewhere in the Alps.
We, how have seen black & white photos
Of the truth will never forget.
Anesthetized constitution,
Demoralized contribution;
Righteous inconsistency-
Wrong-doers frequency.
Subliminal conflab,
Criminal back stab;
Caseless quarrels-
Faceless morals.
Psychedelic legislation,
Humanity disintegration;
Tormented composure-
Indecent exposure.
Respect annihilation,
Sacramented violation;
Varnished illusion-
Tarnished delusion.
Armed paraphernalia,
Strung up genitalia;
Mouthed truths, clamped-
Sealed lies, stamped.
Commune travesty,
Immune amnesty;
Synthetic jurisdiction-
Pathetic contradiction.
Vengeful retribution,
Carnaged institution;
Marred government, lineated-
A nation, desecrated
© 31st October 2013
If you are the cold rapier of sovereignty
I'm the flames of hell that forge you
If you are the spread pallor of night
I'm the sleepless soul in your sullen
If you are the herald of mishap
I'm the ribbon of tan whose dust you awake
If you are the songful mockingbird
I'm the sylvan gourd twirling to your trills
If you are the darting trilobate arrow of retribution
I'm the billow whose back you surf
If you are the first born of Aphrodite
I'm the lost sea harbouring Uranus' genitalia
If you are the dirge of death
I'm the orchestra setting your symphony
If you are the sorcerer of the end
I'm the skull among the bones in your palm
If you are the pitiable mendicant
I'm the wretched jacket of holding your alms
If you are the cold rapier of sovereignty
I'm the scabbard kissing your blade
and lastly I'd like to thank my agent
Shifty Placard unkempt as they come
nutty as squirrel cheeks at the Ritz
a little like Santa Claus and Nero
Shifty made me walk the line
between the rolling green hills of home
and a great vacuuming nothingness
made me grow extra fingers and toes
to feebly hang on with
Shifty wasn't all bad but
you couldn't love him like a bag of fries
he wanted the whole chinchilla
his little heart a wiggling volcano
yes an eater of souls but hey
souls far too often beg for it
based on observation mind you
we all dance screaming and chanting
clutching our genitalia in holy ardor
a spectacle of the damned if you ask me
they can buy you with smoke and mirrors
and I'll have no part of it
well maybe just a little reflection
I know that wasn't proper
time to take evasion
nothing quite so effective for a life on the run
as a well packed suitcase
that's the entirety of my wisdom
but then there may be
a more appropriate momentary abstraction
so I shifted to a new agent
The Great Mundayne
and have been enjoying an easy retirement
at the Home of the Holy Retread
in a race against senility and publication
and always remember kids to
um I forget
it's the law of the jungle out there
the jungle part is real
the other is a functional if occasional overlay
a sea of hard infrastructure assets which
Mundayne’s assistant Vaselina Nudelman
had in spades undertaker spades
she triggered street lamp photocells
and her lips sparkled when she spoke
too much horsepower for the pavement
I'm going to do you
like I did Mr. President she said
in a voice like honey with ants
needless to say I fell
her spasms were remarkable
she had a bee hive between her legs
and the lights went out all across town
the key is how you got here
your soul is your ability to look inside
it doesn't need will to act
it needs the expectation
of an improved model
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/