Best Mens Poems
I don’t always know
what I’m worth in this world.
Some days I feel like a loose page
torn from a book no one remembers reading,
a man walking home in the dark
wondering if any of it mattered.
But then I think of the poems —
the ones I wrote on tired nights,
the ones I nearly deleted,
the ones I posted anyway
because something in me whispered
someone might need this.
And they did.
A stranger in Leeds who said
my words kept him company
on a night he didn’t trust himself.
A woman in Manchester
who said she read my words
to her brother in hospital
because they sounded like hope.
A lad in Wakefield
who told me he didn’t feel alone
for the first time in months
because a poem of mine
said the thing he couldn’t say out loud.
I didn’t fix their lives.
I didn’t save anyone.
But I made a few people
breathe easier,
feel seen,
feel less like they were breaking
in a world that doesn’t slow down
for anyone’s pain.
And maybe that’s the quiet truth
I keep forgetting:
worth isn’t measured in noise,
or numbers,
or the size of the room that claps for you.
It’s measured in the small,
unremarkable moments
where someone’s world
is a fraction lighter
because you existed.
So no —
I don’t know how much value I have
in the grand, cosmic sense.
But I know this:
a handful of people
are happier, steadier,
more alive
because of something I wrote,
something I said,
something I was brave enough
to share.
And if that’s all I ever give,
then I’m already richer
than I ever thought
I could be.
Men’s Secrets
There are men of god who like innocence for their pleasure.
There are coaches, teachers etc., who never – their actions – measure,
as they destroy the impeccability of this, our worlds Treasure.
There are so many men – thoughtless – leaving so many scares.
Destroying the spirits, the souls, the luster of so many Stares.
Leaving them as barren, distant, cold as the surface of mars.
What is in man’s heart ?, that drives all this horror, all this insanity.
Why do they not see ?, what they are doing to a segment ( fifty percent ) of humanity.
What ?, lies in the murky depths of these men’s sick, broken souls and heart,
that makes them shatter the chastity of a life that will never know how to start
living out their lives, and on a much higher plane
and not know the stress, the depths, the separation caused by all their suppressed pain,
pain that comes on, comes out- screaming with every action,
action that stops one – who cares, who shows with every reaction,
yet neither – these sick men made it impossible – will find peace or satisfaction.
B. J. “A” 2
March 6th 2014
His body is primed , muscles pushing at the skin, being magnetically drawn to the water. Focus so heavy the air sags as the clock winds down.
And then the push-off.
Like a fish, flying through the water. Gliding and slicing.
A twist, a turn, a flip. A head bobs above the water.
Breathe in deep. Deep. Deeper.
A win. A glow of satisfaction.
Dedicated to Ryan Lochte.
She’s complaining:
Darling,
I thought a thought.
But the thought I thought
Wasn't the thought I thought I thought.
If the thought I thought I thought,
Was the thought I thought,
I would never had that thought.
Darling,
You thought a thought
But the thought You thought
Wasn't the thought I thought I thought.
If the thought You thought
Was the thought I thought I thought,
We would of had the same thought.
But thinking of the thought I thought I thought
Wasn’t the thought You thought I thought...
Start having the same thoughts I think.
Darling,
If you understand, think "I understand"
If you don't understand, think "I don't understand".
But if you understand and think "I don't understand".
How would I understand that you understand?
Understand!?
His answer:
Your brains to me is total mystery
It’s hard for me to comprehend
I have to love you and appreciate your fantasies
And cherish your enigma as I can.
But everything is so solvable
For all the men with simple logic
That conclusion is up coming
And so easy for quotation:
First – we need to earn some money
And second – to appreciate the children
By spending time with them a plenty
By cherishing and loving you
And not forgetting multitude of flowers…
And also: by being fit and strong
And tall and handsome
And having keenest sense of humor
And be a center of attention
When keeping company
(By being gem in conversations)…
And never think of cheating.
(feelings)
They say Beauty is skin deep. They lied.
Then why are they the first to whine.
They say they like girl's with small boobs.they lied.
Then why do they busy checking out the girl with a push up bra.
They say they like skinny girls.they lied.
they windup looking like a toothpick next to a fat girl.
they say they like girls that is not wild and crazy.
When all they could of done is go to the girl they really wanted,
for not every female are desperate.
They say they not looking at that other girl butt.they lied.
They do not have enough hand to hold the one they already have.
I can make this page longer .but I have no feelings any longer
All I can say is they lied. and fcku for my time i wasted on you.
The walls are speaking harshly of me
They want me to hear what they think of me
I know I’m different from the descendants of their kin’s
I wonder why it bothers them that I am merely being me
Freed to live as I wanna be
They are guests in my territory
Imprisoned by the chains of poverty
Whipped by the lashes of mediocrity
I wish to ignore them but their noise bothers me
Why this misfortune
Here to live in the core of pessimism
I am a prince lost in the belly of poor men’s reality
As self righteous as they can be in their impoverished reality
My thoughts of hope and my words of better dreams
To them noise to be done away with
They are a lot resigned to their reality
A dollar or two at the end of the day
Does just well to satisfy them completely
They do not understand why a prince like me
Would one day wish to be king
I don’t understand why able men like they
Would not wish to reign on their mediocrity
But hey! The truth is that they are they
Meant to gather hey
And I am me
Moulded to be the prince
What’s a future king without a kingdom to inherit?
Unbeknownst to their conscience
Tomorrow they shall serve me
Whereas they toil for today only
I build an inheritance for eternity
I scratch a mark in the plaque of history
Here today, forever remembered
As for them, here today,
Tomorrow as insignificant as though they never were
So please by all means
Let them laugh at me
It’s the noise a prince must perceive
In his grooming to be king
Perhaps it will make me understand
Why there are a million subjects to one prince
Welcome to Bruno’s Mens’ Wear
By Elton Camp
The clerk in the mens’ clothing store
Saw one who hadn’t been there before
He was striding along extremely fast
As the clerk spoke, he went on past
The man darted into the dressing room
And slammed the door with a boom
For security the clerk started to call
When the customer let our a bawl
Horrid words he then came to hear
“There’s no toilet paper in here!”
Now days it's confusing to say.
do I use the men's room or the women's room.
with the change in the world now it's hard to pee
so do i stray to the men's room or do i dash to the women's.
I just don't know so i guess i pee on the floor.
There is this story,
I would like to tell,
about mens, silent, private, hell.
From the age of forty,
it creeps up unknowing.
The only sign is,
that your flow is slowing.
It concerns the prostate you see,
when suddenly, one day or night,
you are unable to pee.
It is as if you are full,
right up to your ears.
The pain is so intense.
You struggle, and struggle to go,
but only a dribble appears.
So of to the doctor or hospital,
one has to go,
where a tube is inserted to release the flow.
So my advice to you men out there,
is once you hit forty.
Go to visit your doctor,
and of your prostate, take care.
The irony of men’s life journey.
Man sees first light through the gap between his mother’s legs.
He spend most of his life trying to slip back into a gap.
The baby comes into this world wearing a hoody.
A doctor decides that the hoody must go, snip, snip.
The baby, the boy, the man, the old man’s head exposed
to the elements, except when entering the holy of holy’s.
Over eighty years have passed, time and fate has altered.
Gravity and age has shortened the height of ones stature
and added inches, feet and pounds to man’s girth.
Old age, has shrunk the length of the head of the family.
Old age, and all that that implies, leaves a negative impact.
As man looks down at the head of the family, the family jewels.
All he observes is sagging sacks and the hoody he lost as a baby.
B. J. “A” 2
June 3rd, 2025
To the ones who didn’t make it past yesterday,
we remember you.
Not for the way your story ended,
but for every quiet moment
you tried to stay.
You carried storms
no one else could see.
You fought battles
that never made a sound.
And even on the days
you felt invisible,
your life touched more than you knew.
We speak your name
with softness,
with honour,
with the kind of love
that doesn’t fade just because you’re gone.
And to the ones still here,
reading this,
breathing through another hard morning,
your story isn’t finished.
Your light is still needed.
Your voice still matters.
Your tomorrow is worth reaching for.
May we live in a way
that remembers them,
and protects you.
May we choose compassion
before judgement,
connection before silence,
hope before the dark.
For the ones who didn’t make it past yesterday,
we carry you.
For the ones who did,
we’re glad you’re here.
I Hope One Day You Look Back and Realize You Were Always Enough
I hope the day comes
when you finally see yourself
without the weight
you’ve carried for years.
When you look back
and notice the moments
you kept going
even when no one saw it.
The nights you held yourself together.
The mornings you rose
with nothing but a thin thread of hope
and still stepped forward.
I hope you see the quiet courage
in every choice you made
to stay, to try, to breathe.
And I hope you realise
you were never failing.
You were becoming.
You were always enough —
even on the days
you couldn’t believe it.
Two months have elapsed
since I met Kapur my new friend
At a first nation men's group gathering
which we both attend
Kapur an unusual name took a while but now easily recalled
A big gentle man at first seemed rather shy
Not much to offer, my first impression, misguided, I'm now appalled
Together Kapur another friend and I
helped a couple resurrect some garden beds
Amazed at Kepur's knowledge
much transferred and now stored inside my head
His broad knowledge of family
His broad knowledge of lore
His broad knowledge of language
more time to spend together I desire to learn more
Today a very brief conversation
his intended weekend activities revealed
Two events to play piano in a reggae ensemble
much pleasure to be enjoyed from the talent he will yield
Kapur I am blessed you've become my new friend
We'll continue to meet at the men's group we attend
You do not have to carry the whole sky.
The clouds will move without your permission.
The wind will blow whether you hold your breath or breathe.
Your mind is not a battleground to be won.
It is an ocean.
The storms on the surface do not change the deep water.
Sit quietly with the noise.
Let the thoughts pass like cars on a distant dual carriageway.
You are not the traffic.
You are the space through which it moves.
Forgive the parts of you that are tired.
Honour the pieces that are still trying.
You are a whole world, evolving in the dark,
Waiting for your own sun to rise.
There are nights you fold into yourself
because the world feels too heavy
and your own name feels like a burden.
Nights when you stare at the ceiling
and wonder how a heart can keep beating
when it’s this tired.
You think no one sees you.
You think no one hears the quiet ways
you’re asking for help.
But I do.
I hear every unspoken plea
in the way you hold your breath
and pretend you’re fine.
You are not a lost cause.
You are a bruised soul
still trying to stand
after life has knocked you down
more times than you admit.
And that fight in you —
that tiny, trembling spark
that refuses to die —
that is proof
you’re still worth saving.
One day, you’ll look back
at the version of you
who begged the universe for mercy
and you’ll realise
they were never broken beyond repair.
They were just waiting
for someone to remind them
they mattered.
You matter.
You always did.
You always will.