Best Mannish Poems
Abused and mauled by filthy loveless hands,
Devoured by baseness, wickedness and shame,
A victim, slave to selfish fools’ demands,
With freedom kept on paranoid restrain.
The mannish-child has crushed the sweetest rose,
And, cheerful, tears off butterfly’s soft wings,
Intent on turning beauty’s joys to woes,
He’s threatened, terrified of purer things.
Courageous, strong, her soul has overcome,
This unclean, cowardly, and hate-filled world,
‘Though bruised and battered, bleeding, coldly numb,
Her shy and tender petals have uncurled.
She spreads her lovely wings and takes to flight,
Abandons shadows, makes for heaven’s light.
for Deb's and Cyndi's sonnet contest
shakespearean sonnet
While looking for Viagra
with passion on its brink,
I dropped the little box of pills
they all went down the sink
Now on the pack it clearly says,
40 minutes take to work, so I
was keen to find them quick
and haste I did not shirk
My love was waiting in the bed
I knew for not too long, for pretty
soon she’d be counting sheep
and I with rampant dong
So out I wrenched the U-bend
tube, such water everywhere,
but could not see the little pills,
now patience running bare
So to the all night chemist, I drove
like man possessed, twenty minutes
there and back, and one to get undressed
I swigged one down immediately, looking
at the clock, and hoped the little devil, would
start work on my cock
Ten minutes still to go, perhaps foreplay would
be best, I slid to bed as she smiled and removed
my cotton vest
My love smiled up so sweetly but
then looking rather sad, she said it was
the time of month and sex could not be had
So older chaps beware this ditty, comes the
mannish urge, check your kitchen calendar,
when the hormones surge
Absent mind
Before birth was I alive?
A question to mind.
Answer of it I can declare
If was not alive who lived my life!
May be I were mixed with wind
Gently roaming in vacuum to find kind
If were in another form
Who deformed me in mannish term?
Only nature should have possession
To manipulate and to generate me
In her wish I was in twist
Not knowing when to publish
Pushing time difficulty for breathe
Gave me an overwhelming faith
A deep sorrow and bitter experience
Remembering Again will prevail
Luckily term was for another form
Neither man nor woman
In between life of genuine
An amicable birth for godly heaven
Absent mind delighted then
Knew new heaven born for man
A society for all kind leaving betrayal
Perfume of love scattered from heaven.
The man when born
and die,
In ruefully and
spiritless sigh,
And in middle of his
youth, he uproar,
Again and again
loath, with roar,
In this fiery
arrogant ways he
astonish,
His vitality and
humanity of mannish,
In this mid of
couple years he
repercussion,
And made a blast of
hatred ness with
emotion,
To show off his
power he transgress,
Make all petite
things mess,
A resplendent
landscape to fresh
foaming stream,
Who smile before the
lightening sun with
gleam,
And the choking air
with fluttering
birds,
Ain’t in peace and
comfort of his
girds,
The same activities
at the hoar,
As the senile men
try to soar,
Ho! Don’t venture
o’er this stake
race,
You shall refrain by
this base,
And to abide by this
fruitless grow,
Will ruin your all
speculation and
flow,
So a man, decide
where to go,
To live like a
nobility glow,
Or to live in the
rapacious magnitude,
And to die in thirst
of malicious
attitude,
A man with mob but
in solitude,
Or a man with no
fame but aim,
Remember, the world
is shadowy game,
What you sow, reap
the same
Let we get over this
line of livelihood,
And stipulate the
theme of
brotherhood.
M Shahid Hussain
Chouhdry ©
After the tides
After the French revolution
After the mannish history
After a feminine geography
After a long career in woman politics
After the boredom
After the wine
After all the complements I made
After the poetry I wrote
And the few verses wrote to me
After all the flood of kisses
After the national disaster
After pouring out all the anger
I made plan for a new trip
To an unknown continent
Where I do not crave poetry
And my poems do not crave me.
It is if she had wrote the narrative to my life.
A foolish man she made me: me thinking
that I could exist until then< the day
we meet and have the right words to put
our future into perspective. "Might the nights of
Lovers make me her's". Than might the need of
my selfishness makest me her's" What a fool I've been!
Each idea a failure, I ajusted to her needs in full
compliance to have been meet with her resistance
and stubborn meaniest. She beleived she was
mannish and womanish to
the conveesity of right: I found her wrong
and those who desired a measure of revenge might
seek her company to spawn. A disbelief in fairness and a concern for
troubling a catalyst for value, aruthless of competitive behavior.
a concern for cultural readiness. Samples of a world
against the desire to marry.Love feeds my hunger
might I thirst to have
the waters of your need for me
satisfy my dry mouth.
She spoke of her want to learn music, as a Lady she wished
to began piano lessons, a concerted jesture. Thus she'd had
only time if the oppurtunity allowed and finacing from her Mister was allowed.
That made right for conversation, she'd ask him for
the money to begann her lessons.
He cited her expression as tenure and want: maybe a need to fit-in.
Maybe an urgency oror a collective restored mention, might
allow a thought of music. A tune or two.
Might you
find in your busy world to love me!She wanted the music more than she beleived and thus months later she was both
musicailly trained and pregant.Have I loved thee? He would ask her: have we then been perfections of our happiness.
Thank you
Keith, Ernesto, Kristin and Diane
Thank you christopher and beyond
I love this soup
Richer than St Elizabeth cow peas
Mannish water or pepperpot
Poetry.com was a bubble in my history
Burst now
I love this family,
O Deborah what a gift
What a Caleb in your tongue
Carolyn sweet as a Irish violin
The little Japanese tea
Served in chinese cup
Thank you
Stacey, Denis, Lena
Karena
Children of a sweeter God
Muse of the okra tongue
Slippery as oil where inspirations run
Under the green sheet of the sun
Laurie, Karen, Brian, Sue
Stacy you too
Orishas of the river woman
Giver to the Shango
Brides, brethren, warrior crew
I am the twister, conniver
The rattle of the drum
You played me
And gentle too,
Lovers are givers and sweet water flows in sweet rivers
Thank you
God for these people, the candles
Of your fireflies
Thank you all for you.
Come fly with me in sweetshop dreams
throw caution’s doubt into the wind
laugh your face to pleasured lines
come board my plain and simple need..
oh let our bodies shed their gloom
see there.. before us distant laid
a flushed horizon’s fading glow
a green garbed castle in the sky..
all puckered you with mannish frown..
and doubts a’plenty in your mind
let rich selection fill your wings
come pick and mix all freedom find
sweet doubting heart. Come take your fill
a silk wrapped love here merry brings..
No liqu’rice threads or nougat feel
but more, a rich confectioned place
brim-full with honeyed almond strands ..
dark chocolate dipped ripe raspberries
hand held upon your sweetheart’s tongue,
a soaring flight of fancy brought
swirled an' twirled with sherbet fizz
to soon electrify a place, where is
a melting pot, rich roistering
awaiting weight of other’s sin..
so thus the weekend starts its test
with chocolatiers’s amazing craft
admired is he by others skilled
who knows full well he sells the best..
The magic of mimosa meandered,
In her mystical mind and on the mirror.
Mesmerizing moments of men!
With mannish kindness they kissed her hands
and dainty, debutante fingers
Masculine too, having merciful manners
Musicality and poetry, a mighty mix.
The moon shed musical tunes midst the mimosa.
Moving down sweet memoir’s corridors.
To waltz, in mighty halls, with golden etched walls.
12/4/2022
A Wise Woman
They say a wide woman should build her house, but what about the piggish man with mannish mannerisms? He’s filled with doggie treats and dogma. Ladies, let me give you the T with your Danish. Excuse me while I arrange my dress, so you won’t undress my unholy ways with your grotesque eyes. Unless you’re distressed and under religious duress, if not then I digress.
Disdained, but my head is held high. Once upon a time, I drowned in biblical verses filled with curses. I tried to stay afloat but struggled to deal with a defiled bed. I had to give head on Sunday but realized I was headed for self-destruction but had to still keep the Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth. For whatever it’s worth.
As a First Lady, I was always instructed to be a wise woman. following Proverbs made problematic predictions for me. I ended up impregnated under false fallacies. To a Jack and Jill went up the hill fables constantly in my ear. The Layman stays late to receive prayers while the holy enjoy extra curriculum, and activities anointed by god.
It's wonderful~how some women's
shoes are delightful and feminine.
Yet women dress more and more
like men each day.
It's very sad in the USA, to watch
femininity quickly pass way.
Why wear pretty underwear inside
while dressing Paul Bunyan on the
outside?
Why get facial waxes, when a beard
and a mustache, matches your mannish
clothes and shoes?
What's the need for Dooney and Burke
expensive purses?
When sweaters your deceased grandpa
would not wear, you flash
with unabashed flair!
What happened to daughters who once
dressed as girls?
All have fallen and been totally destroyed
in a giant, omnivorous jean-factory world.
Why do sons and daughters dress like
fathers?
And why this fetish for masculinity?
And the crushing decimation of our
femininity?
January 24, 2020
11am PST
A dreaming-to-be-blonde brunette
Psychologically caught in a drag net,
Her forced-upon nickname “You Cant!”
And she’d wished she were a debutante!
The further-taunted-about-her-sibilant
And mannish manners, not mildly militant…
Then, one day they started their plant
And she mindlessly took up a chant
At breathlessness out classing the ant,
Even as peaked never did pant,
Finally paralyzing her disbelieving aunt
And by a half music-promoting Gant,
Who could still his left hand move for The Grant…
A big shame to those who at Rita rant
For being the-good-for-nothing,
Often wanna be startin ‘somethin’
And A Rat Never-Do-Well
Wanting to The Cat bell…
Finally, A Rat bells The Cat
And instantly enemies lose fat!
is it a terrible thing that one of the most memorable moments in my life is standing on a streetcorner in a european capital city listening to some dude in a fedora play a bob dylan cover? i flipped him a two doller tip and felt like a good human being. wow. later in the same trip i was walking back to the hotel and this extremely busty and somewhat mannish scottish broad was lumbering out of a tavern into the street, and was begging me to help her find her umbrella. i still think about that and smile sometimes. i was supposed to go see the castles from Braveheart, but i overslept. that day i spent the afternoon smoking clove cigarettes (so alt) in an internet cafe while chatting with friends back home. when i returned home from this expedition, i felt it was wasted time. lost potential. years later, i wish for those days. but there shall be more;
woman to man
man to woman
always attractive part of nature,
inseparable infatuating power
the woman has natural intention to beautify her for
seen to unseen,
real to imaginative dream,
spoken or unspoken
the important roles of masculine mind
the woman, seems to me, instinctively dependable
whether I go find her in preparing to enchant the man ego
though she is now well educated
most of women
still take beautiful elements to pacify mannish sensual pleasure,
still surrender to husbands even cruelly beaten up by them
most of women still
afraid of the masculine society,
serve man for said heaven enduring all wretched conditions
though I find them now conscious about their rights
still I find them-
as scientist, physician, economist
as theologian, philosopher, politician
and in most salient sectors of worldly life
theist, atheist, feminist all kind of women
Independent, subservient, educated uneducated
almost all women still love to live as parasite rules,
though they love freedom but under the masculine reigns
most of women if desire, can enjoy the entire life independently
but they are moulded in dependence naturally or forcefully
awake, o woman awake
awake on the self power
awake your true nature
awake for your inner sake
13.04.2020 Chattogram
Sandra Stanwick Ain't Butter Sandwiches
anguish, bandage
Sandra Stanwick
banish, bandits
bandits, bandwidth,
standing, branding
handless manage
vanquish vantage
languish, manage
language, mannish
Spoken token
spanish
handed, handle
candid, candle,
wearing arraying
mandich, manish,
sandals, , spandex, , ,
stanich,stranded,
tannish, vanish
ate, eight
butter clutter
sandwhiches
05/24/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018