Best Men Poems
I stand about five feet eight
I'll admit, I'm a tad overweight
Drive an old pick up truck
Not one to pass the buck
At the moment have a dog for a mate
Dropped out of school at eighteen
Got married in a pair of old jeans
A father of four
When I sleep, I snore
When angered been known to get mean
I grew up huntin' and fishin'
Done more than my share of wishin'
Been in a few fights
Know I'm not always right
For my age, still in decent condition
In my life, I've worked many hard jobs
Its been said, "I'm rough as a cob"
I've smoked and drank
Spent time in the tank
And never, not once, did I sob
I also love being outside
My old skin is weathered and dried
Still play in the dirt
Cuss when I'm hurt
But I do have a softer side
Poetry, I read and I write
These days, prefer music to be lite
Love trees and flowers
Warm spring showers
And swinging on stars at night
I like women who like to hold hands
Take moonlight walks on the sand
Curves excite me
Whispers invite me
A good listener who tries to understand
I wash dishes, do laundry and floors
Clean bathrooms, wash walls and doors
I'm a pretty good cook
Without a cookbook
To be honest, don't mind household chores
Just so you're perfectly clear
I've traveled from there to here
Simple but complex
Know love's more than sex
And on occasion I cry manly tears
Yes sometimes I even wear pink
Wear cologne to make sure I don't stink
Write poems about birds
Use everyday words
And I don't give a damn what you think!
by Daniel Turner
Dear men,
Explain to me why I stand alone.
Women are quick to uplift their father, sons, and brothers
Quick to maintain the home,
But when she needs support,
A woman stands alone
Explain to me why a woman has to stay in her “place”
Is there no room for a woman who is more than a pretty face?
Is there no room for a woman who can stimulate you intellectually
Or is it a woman’s only duty to please you sexually?
Explain to me why beating a woman gives you power
It gives you strength
Is masculinity so fragile
That you can’t maintain?
Without getting pleasure from pain
Explain to me why your brother goes scott free
When he takes advantage of a woman
While she is left to be ridiculed, blamed
As society throws dirt on her name
And she falls victim to her own demise.
I despise
The men who are so oblivious to their own privilege
That they think patriarchy is normal
Excuse my language
As I speak a bit informal
For you to understand
That you cannot catcall me as I walk down the street
It’s disgusting and demeaning
No I am not obligated to give you my number
Just because you ask and think you are getting a pass at me
No I don’t need you to hold the door open or carry my groceries
I am a strong, independent woman and your belief that I am weak
Is insulting
No I do not have to give you my body just because you bought me a drink
My body belongs to me
No matter what you tell yourself or think
Dear men,
You can no longer say that you are ignorant to my issues or my demands
Because I have clearly listed it for you to see.
Now only a real man
Will know, that women deserve equity
Having lived on earth for some time now
Impatiently he dwells, harboring self doubt.
In face of impediments he loses his mind
Acquiring dispositions like hate and lies,
Hosting showmanship to look good and wise.
Never does he claim his world to be saintly
Letting dreams reign and thoughts go wild
Acknowledging failings incapable of verity.
Risking happy tears, triumphs he celebrates
Saving saddened ones to mourn disasters,
Banking on the strength of worn-out hands
As unforgiving minutes tick-tock forever.
When he gets a turn at the wheel of fortune
Losses seem to mount at every pitch-and-toss,
Regretting moments when he says:"hold on"
For he loses the ground on which he stands.
Yet he carries on, in treacherous currents
Swimming boldly in shark-infested waters
Accepting the reality of fish-eat-fish world.
Unsatiated reveries bestow vacant dreams
Never ever venturing to walk with the Kings,
Commoner he is, like his friends in drudgery.
Pride and joy of his family, a Man he's already!
Truth he owns, is the truth he delineates,
Being a flawed man, for forgiveness he prays.
October 21, 2018
Poem of the day on October 23, 2018
Placed first in..In response to Rudyard Kipling's poem IF
Contest by Silent One
Placed 3rd: Strand select 12 by Brian Strand
(WARNING SIGNS)
You are old and fragile
Claiming to be a lion when in bed
In some way, you remind me of the walking dead
Your bones make a sound when walking across the room
Rattling, as if they know your end is near
Confusing rigor mortis where muscle mass once stood
You say you have stamina that has no end
Until now, your back hurts when you move
Losing count of every inch that got away!!!
With your moods constantly changing,
I prefer not to mention the belly fat around your waist
Then you have romantic days, you plea to love
You chase down a Viagra pill with red fuzz
Seemingly, without adding depression to your day
Pill's are the only object expanding when swallowed
40 some, and you think you can romp around the room
I yawn, yet you are the one tired, next to doom
Dusty and old you boxer shorts
Can't remember the last time you stayed up late
Kicking the bucket every time I talk about S E X
Your hairline aged with time, bold and bald
I forgot which one you recalled this morning
Perhaps these are signs of low testosterone
Merely in the meantime............... R.I.P. WILL YA!!!
BY: PD
Dead Men Do Tell Tales
I saw, the rot of sad, deep selfish desires,
burning endlessly in clever fires
Piles of cash a tall mountain high
stolen by those that cleverly steal and lie
six lying days every week ,
while they race into church pretending
to be ever so mild and meek
The preacher crying all to give so much more
while he lives in a mansion with a golden door
drunks living with no other life
have sacrificed family and wife
naked women on the the street,
selling their pride and body like meat
hustlers getting rich selling poisonous dope
as they hang themselves with an evil rope
I looked for solace and found there was none
just endless cowards crying on the run
A world teaching wrong is so damn right
blind monkeys never seeing the light
dancing in fruitless trees,
tree-rats eating with relish their rotting cheese
Looking for Spring to bring life anew
I too am blind and without a damn clue
a fool holding onto a false hope
on a tight leash and even shorter rope
Where is the miracle we each think can come
we see it shining there for some
A treasure glaring in the glimmering Sun
gifted not stolen by guile and a gun
So I finally turned to family for relief
ease my Soul, winter in my long lost belief
that Life must give us all a saving line
other than more food when we sit to dine
R.J. Lindley
Nov 9th, 1984
6 years ago, I wrote limericks about 5 PS poets. Today, I've posted
about another 5 and will continue to add more... before 6 years.
I tickled funny bones of five Souper men
So, I gave thought to trying it once again
In the order they replied
My sarcasm was applied
As I gently heckled them with ink and pen
First, Tom Cunningham, who "liked my collection"
To femme limericks he had no objection
But now it's his turn
Tom, forgive the burn
I heard you're headed for a house of correction
Jerry T Curtis said to "keep them coming"
But I think that lately he's been slumming
He's all aflutter
And starts to stutter
When his lady friend starts his heart strumming
Then there is the poet of romance, Tim Smith
His sweet words of seduction are not a myth
I know it to be truth
Don't ask me. It's uncouth
I don't kiss and tell so I'm pleading the fifth
John Gondolf said my limericks made him "chuckle"
His comments are always filled with honeysuckle
But if he wants a date
I'll have to castigate
I have a black belt in the use of my knuckles
"I needed smiles and giggles," said Greg Barden
His poems are flowers blooming in a garden
But some words are couture
Fertilized with manure
Now I guess I'll have to beg for Greg's pardon
The new additions...
Like a brother he comes to my defense
This man wears no guise and has no pretense
Mark Koplin, misunderstood
A modern-day Robin Hood
To me he shines with rays of effulgence
There's a man who took me under his wing
Says what he thinks. Doesn't hold back a thing
Danny Turner, my friend
A helping hand he'll lend
For offering kind words, he's a wellspring
David Kavanagh, true friend from the start
Encouraging advice, he does impart
Throws Monoku lines like spears
I raise a glass to him ~ cheers!
Loyal, his word. A man with a good heart
Canadian, Vaso, we don't see oft
Art doesn't come across as being soft
But has a tender heart
For countries torn apart
His poetic words should never be scoffed
His funny thoughts overflow in a Flood
Terry writes humor that's never a dud
Risque, and sometimes not
His stories have a plot
Rumor has it that he's known as 'The Stud'
Gentlemen, I ask forgiveness for this spoof
My humorous parodies should be the proof
That I like all of you
And don't mind if ya do
Get even in your own limericks of reproof
Are men supposed to show their strength
denying doubts and fears?
Should they pretend to play it cool
concealing all their tears?
When things build up would weakness urge
temptation to give in;
should one betray signs of defeat
because of hurt within?
There is a line where macho ends,
it’s there for all to see.
The mask is ripped and make-up melts;
emotions are set free.
For men are at their strongest point
when they are free to cry.
Why must a man lose confidence
when tears spill from the eye?
For men in touch with feelings are
a treasure trove to find.
Each woman’s dream and deep desire’s
to find one of the kind!
A man who’s strong enough to show
he has a caring side...
well, such a man is sure to be
a woman’s joy and pride.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Collaboration between Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Haiti, the home of voodoo practices
Seventeenth Century Spain cedes to France
Catholic Spaniards trembled when they saw
“Dead” men revived to wander in trances
A vile poison can make men appear dead
Revival requires an antidote
But perhaps there is more to zombie lore
An explanation to why these souls woke
Brutally treated slaves worked sugar fields
Captives from Africa known as “Maroons”
As French aristocrats sat and grew fat
Blacks sweated for “sweets” in the tropic sun
Buried guilt deep at night still festers
For conscience is God’s gift to each man
Some may suppress it for just a short time
‘Til magical night envelopes the land
Spirits of those who were taken in chains
Are given by God a chance to rebel
Stalking the living in deathly pallor
Haunting their captors with visions of hell
“Zombifications,” Maroons erected
Spreading the horrors of slavery with anger
Showing the French what their evil produced
And putting their sanity in danger
So please put the voodoo dolls back on shelves
The needle-sharp pricks of remorse can sting
Enslaved Maroons prevail in heaven’s court
Our Creator’s eyes aren’t missing a thing
Magic, black or white, God sees no color
Love is bestowed on men of all races
And those who question the Lord’s intentions
Should look in the eyes of living-dead faces
A Child's Thanksgiving Prayer
Lord, I thank thee as I sit to eat,
For mashed potatoes that I helped to make.
And thanks, dear Lord, we're having something sweet.
Besides the beets and peas, there's pies and cake!
I thank thee for the sweet potatoes too
‘Cause Mom put tiny marshmallows on top.
They melted into white and taste goo;
Bless Mom, this time her cooking didn't flop!
And thanks, dear Lord, my cousins came today.
I only get to see them once a year.
It snowed, and so we're going out to play.
Only my aunt Ruthie isn't here.
I'm glad she caught a cold. Forgive me, Lord.
It's just she talks so much we kids get bored.
A Dad's Thanksgiving Prayer
Thanks, Lord, for this day of our Thanksgiving.
I've got a nice long weekend thanks to thee,
Starting with what I call really living-
Football on TV for me to see.
I'm thankful for this turkey on the table,
And for my wife, who bought it at the store
Even though she had to read the label
On how to cook the thing and even more . . .
Because this was her first time hosting dinner,
There was a lot my poor wife had to learn.
But the pumpkin pie turned out to be a winner,
And the gravy(which I love), she didn't burn!
And praise to thee, my kid is not as bad
As those that my wife's sister Annie had.
A Mom's Thanksgiving Prayer
I thank thee, Lord, for this Thanksgiving Day,
For helping hands to clear away this mess;
For snow to tempt the kids outside to play;
For all my family and the meal's success.
I haven't seen my sisters in a while.
Though Ruthie's gone, I'm glad we all can chat.
The men are in the den. Each wears a smile.
They're chugging Buds and happy getting fat.
I'm thankful too that Mom and Dad are here.
They're taking all the kids to see a show
Tomorrow while the men are drinking beer.
I hope nobody gets into a row!
Bless Mom and Dad. The kids will have them hopping
(Especially Annie's kids) while we're out shopping!
For PD's "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.. any food, thanksgiving
or turkey poem CONTEST.. Poetry Contest"
I turned,
towards my friend, who always was complaining
about the injustices and hardships of life and in
a calm voice I asked him:
" Tell me, was there a moment in your life that you,
smiled?
Laughed?
Jumped for joy?
Celebrated a success?
Kissed your sweetheart and told her how much you loved her?
That you embraced your firstborn and exclaimed-
how beautiful life is?"
My surprised friend looked at me, took a deep breath, and then,
hesitantly, whispered:
" Yes, I have to admit that there were moments like that in my life."
" If there were moments like that, as you have just admitted," I continued
"You, certainly, justify, each and all of the things you so vehemently
condemn all life long!"
My friend looked at me rather confused, saying nothing.
Realizing that there was not to be any reply, I went on:
" You see, my good friend, we humans understand something
only if its opposite exists.
For instance, we understand cold for there is warm,
soft, because we have experienced hard,
heavy, because there is light and so on.
In the same way, we feel pleasure because we have felt pain,
Joy because we felt sadness,
Happiness because we felt unhappiness.
As you see,
the question is not, how just or unjust life is
but how much we accept life or not accept it.
If we do accept it- we have a chance to be happy
If we do not, then happiness will elude us.
Therefore,
all depends on the degree we accept life or not,
and
To that degree, we can be either happy or unhappy,
which means,
either we would be able to enjoy life
or we would keep
lamenting and complaining about it! "
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 December 2019
* I would like to thank all my friends who visited and supported me throughout the years. I also thank the officials of PS for the honor of the POTD. I wish everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR, and may all your dreams come true, but first and foremost, I wish you health! Love. Demetrios
I think I'm getting older ~ there's difference in every way
Body doesn't feel the same ~ on an ice cold Winter's day
What's really bothering me ~ is how my mind has changed
Now I listen to hearts aloud ~ in the howling of the rain
I think I'm getting older ~ silver fox hair on display
Not the Loverboy I used to be ~ sometimes I wish I'd stayed that way
So I'll face what I have to face ~ wrinkled up I'll push ahead
I think I'm getting older now ~ it's hard to get up off my bed
I think I'm getting older ~ vision seems a little blurred
I might not hear everything ~ but somehow I read your every word
What fascinated me for years ~ just goes by blowing in the wind
Autumn leaves are falling~ and I'm back to earth again
Look as far and as wide as you can, my friend,
Turn your eyes towards the sky and try to pierce infinity-
This vast unknown-
Ponder about its existence
Let not a single thing unexamined
Any stunning flower untouched
Any majestic bird unobserved
Any magnificent fish unnoticed
And tell me
Isn't life a miracle?
An unbelievable story?
An inconceivable design?
Yet
A mesmerizing reality?
Look how heaven and earth are put together:
A harmonious whole operating with such precision and
With a single purpose in mind- LIFE!
Tell me, could this great design be the outcome of chance?
Of a hazardous consequence?
Or
The work of blind forces?
Look closer my friend, once again,
Pay attention to the details of this incredible miracle of life
Look how things are so wisely operating
Observe the relationship between a flower and a bee
How they are interrelated,
Interconnected and
Interdependent
Marvel how, although they both are so transient,
They maintain eternity
Note the way they obey the cosmic laws
Thus
Enacting the choreography of life and death that divinity has conceived
And by doing so they become divine themselves and their art holy
Let us, my friend,
Be inspired by them and let us create our own
Harmonious coexistence
Our own choreography, inspired by God,
For
To incarnate His will in reality
So as to glorify His creation
And us to live in peace as He meant us to live!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 August 2019
* This is my 2400th poem.
Thank all those who have commented on my poems since 2012! I also thank PoetrySoup because they have helped my poems become known thus they were published in books and anthologies. Soon, I think to stop posting. God bless you all my friends.
In silence, your friendship is a sun to me,
Your warmth a shower to erase pain.
In you pain exists, something I cannot solve,
But in my warmth you can stay a while.
Just know that I am here for you,
For friendship is no one way street.
***
Copyright © Darren White
March 31, 2017
A LIMERICK ON NOTED SOUP POETS
Bob Hinshaw, Tom Cunningham, James Edward Lee, Sr., Russell Sivey, Gordon McConnell, Greg Barden, Emile Pinet, Silent One, WingedWarrior, Charles Messina, Gershon Wolf, Richard Lamoureux, Joe Flack, Liam McDaid, Rick Parise, Curtis Johnson, Curtis Futch, Jr., Brian Strand, Don Johnson, Jack Ellison, Roblert Lindley, Timothy McGuire, John Gondolf, Arturo Michael, Edward Ibeh, Kevin Shaw, Harry Horsman, Dr. Ram Mehta
They come from all walks of life
Some from countries filled with strife
They wish to convey
Their life in a way
That cuts to the core like a knife
They write words of wisdom, words that inspire
Words of great mirth, and some words of hell fire
Some poems tell a story
On getting to glory
They truly are poets that we can admire
When you read the words they have written
I feel certain that you will be smitten
You may laugh, or you may cry
You may just chuckle, or only sigh
But what they have written is always fittin'
If your name is not here, please forgive me
The list is inexhaustible, you see
It would take many days
To give everyone praise
And on that, I think you'll agree
Curtis Moorman
7 August 2019
W-hen the fullness of time had come, Jesus was born behind an Inn in a cave-like stable.
I-n the Inn there was no room for the Son of God, no room for the Saviour of men.
S-tar was shining so bright above the stable for the shepherds to find their way to Him.
E-ven angels proclaimed His birth to those shepherds "Unto you is born this day."
M-anger is where Mary and Joseph first laid him. It was filled with hay.
E-very animal there must have known that their Creator had come that day.
N-o one knew the depth of love God had, to give His Son to dwell among men.
S-ame star guided three kings from the Orient, who studied the stars and heavens.
T-hese wise men from the East came saying "Where is He that is born King"
I-n their hands they brought him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrr.
L-ike these three wise men, wise men still seek him today!
L-ove is the reason that God sent His only Begotton Son into the world to save us.
S-eeking for you and me, yes God was seeking for us because we had left Him.
E-veryone, yes, all we like sheep have gone astray. Everyone to his own way.
E-ach one has to make his on decision to follow Him or not to follow Him.
K-ing, born to be a King. King of the ages. King of the past. King of the future.
H-eaven, He came from Heaven to earth to show us the right way.
I-niquity, the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.
M-elody, He gives us a sweet melody, we sing many songs of praise to Him.
T-ree, A Christmas tree, the love that Jesus had for us, to die on a tree.
O-nly one life and how soon it passes. Only in life can we accept His Love.
D-eliverance, He came from Heaven to preach deliverance to the captives.
A-cknowlege Him and accept Him. Behold now is the accepted time.
Y-ou, Yes, this Christmas Love was for You. Will You accept this love?
For Brian Strands Christmas Love contest.