Best Machismo Poems
A
long
lost art-
scolded by
female bravado.
Does machismo make a real man
with its excessive ego of superiority?
If it is considered the vital part of masculinity,
how come disregard, vulgarity and obscenity are
highly valued by anyone encouraging this character;
I've known such individuals whose breath
had the stench of alcohol and narcotic...
I was disgusted by such behavior and it made me vomit.
Faithless dudes spend a night in the bar, then go home staggering
to their wives and children...abusing them with vulgar words, screaming,
beating them up and then faint on the neatest bed;
half-men with nugatory affection treat them kindly,
you have promised to love them unconditionally,
why do you break that vow recited before God and Man?
The morning after, your machismo loses its equilibrium...
over the beast you had become, to fill you with delirium.
Machismo is a misconception of what men should be;
machismo evokes dark thoughts of all the evil-minded ones,
not a model to look to or worthy of imitation as expected,
and as your strength swoons, your perception is blocked
by clarity, and your gazes fall to factual disgrace
to reveal fallacy. How will a false-hearted man, filled with machismo, ever be
released from his ominous state? There are countless errors and faults,
and foresight is the solution to his self-inferred woes.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Any (every) man
can brag about his conquests,
the notches in his belt
little rungs on a ladder
baptized in ********.
Any (every) man
can regale you with stories
of their swordsmanship or cunning
linguistics.
Any (let's just be honest and say all) man
can try to hold a woman down
while pretending to hold her hand.
But it takes a REAL man
to look a beautiful woman
in her emerald moth eyes
and say;
"Will you teach me how to fish? "
Like butterflies
Muscular guys
Attract all eyes.
Our weatherman loves his flamboyant maps.
Apocalyptic works of art, with giant smears of white and pink.
Swallowing half the nation in rococo delight.
He talks in excited hush about accumulation and wind chill.
He has a lust for slush and black ice.
Thunderheads always in his mind like a Prozac pill.
The snow wizard predicted 10 to 12 inches by nighttime.
He was right this time.
He told me to prepare for the blizzard.
I found my favorite shovel. It has a wide silver mouth.
Pushes tons of snow if I give it the power to do so.
Years ago-my arms were forged in the hearth of Buffalo winters
, but they are old arms now, and I waver.
I always start at the foot of the driveway.
Where the snow is heavy and deep, and I'm at my peak.
I keep a keen eye on the snowplow.
Lest he plows me under my emerald dreams.
My neighbor is young, strong, and nimble.
He's like a mad machismo maestro in a whirling snow globe.
I try to keep pace but cannot match him.
He doesn't even wear gloves or a hat.
Maybe that's his way of giving me a handicap.
He started late but still finished well before me.
I hope one day he catches a machismo death...but not really.