Just take a good look at me;
My frame is attractive!
It does the unsated
appetite of the chauvinist
fuel.
My curves and your fantasies
are mutually inclusive!
Without them, dreams
are truncated.
But I am an orgasmic
symbol.
The self opinionated chauvinist
designs me in his sub-conscious
to serve and be utterly subservient.
I am incarcerated as a chef,
and timeless baby sitter.
A baby machine for a
patriarchal dynasty.
My education is a threat to chauvinist ego.
My ignorance hones his misogynist confidence,
whilst my erudite head
retards his self esteem and worth.
The illiterate orgasmic symbol is his
ideal and virtuous woman.
The smarter and more professional
is the age-old Jezebel.
My chastity and virginity
are twin virtues of a
mutilated genitalia.
My restrained sex urges are
designed for his unrestrained
proclivities and gratification.
I must be restrained,
for him to be unrestrained,
because, share him I must
with two or three others of
my kind.
But take another good look at me,
and see a versatile womb-man!
Translate each prejudice of yours'
and see my remarkable antonyms.
"All a man wants, is a girl who looks good in a bikini," - Jack Freestone
TWO-PIECE OR NOT TWO-PIECE
“All a man wants,” said a chauvinist Aussie,
“Is a girl who looks good in a two-piece cossie.”
But the sort of girl that I like best
Is one who looks good in an IQ test.
Whilst long legs and cleavage are very attractive,
I much prefer a mind that it active
A beautiful body is pleasant enough,
But I need assistance with crosswords and stuff.
Of course, if pressed, I would have to admit
That over the years I’ve matured a bit.
Back in the day I might have been frisky
But, at eighty-five, it is far too risky
Half flesh, half steel, sinews and twined wire,
Begotten in the heat of half-love, tempered
By hatred and the axe, fathered by one
Who killed her mother, the male chauvinist boar
Whose eye-teeth, razor-sharp, saw through the spine,
Joy-sword in sheath. Wrought iron, blood vessels,
Bone and cable, one part conceived, the other forged
On the hard anvil where gusts of blood are seed
Of all the axeman most does fear – cast iron woman
With stanchions for a trunk, iron breastplate,
A malleable black heart, a metallic chastity belt
No man may boast of stealing and still live,
Who beats men at their own battle games,
A dab hand with the axe herself, as salty tears
And globules of mercury exude from grey glands
Release me from the claws of bigotry that strangles my breath
For its looming shadow longs for the sound of my death
Its chauvinist mind wants to enslave the sound of my voice
Its sickle wants to rip the echo of my choice
Even if I'm already swollen and fallen
Its clout still tramples on my limbs that were broken
Rip the vein that runs through its prejudiced heart
Make its vilifying tongue depart
For how can a light be useful in the land of the blind,
When the only voice that matters is one from a slave mind?
Take me to a place where conviction is not a ticket to die
Where I can freely spread my wings and fly
Where color of skin is not the measure of being human
Where people do not judge on basis of their clan
Where the sounds of little voices really matter
Where everybody shuns the pessimism of a hater
May 7, 2023
The chauvinist, is not "Man"
is a hilarious gas
that inflates a meat puppet...!
Without reason or judgment...
A communist leader judging himself
a semi-god, that's why so
vainglorious opened the window and spotted
the sun...
- Hello sunshine ... good morning!
The surprised sun replied:
- Good Morning.
The afternoon came, the chauvinist leader
aware of his condition, he opened the window and
again saluted the sun:
- Good afternoon, sunshine ...!
The sun to end the prose soon said:
- Good afternoon.
At night, wanting to demonstrate his superiority
before colleagues the arrogant leader opened
the window and shouted ...
- Good night sun ....!
- Good night sun ... !!
- Good night sun .... !!!
The sun did not answer ...
The leader angrily shouted:
-Who do you think you're dealing with ... I'm
greatest leader of the army in Germany
Oriental ... how dare you stay silent!
Then there was a fleeting, distant voice,
almost inaudible ...
- Ssh silence ... I'm not there now,
I'm in the east ...!
I imagine
the earth could be fold up virtually or by other way
So from I stand up here I were able to see the Eiffel Tower in Paris and count its steel structure thoroughly , as if it were really visible in front of me.
I imagine
Hell or heaven enfolded us, not a place which is somewhere in distance
I could smell the fragrance of heaven
I could felt my hand skin on fire in hell
I imagine
Humanity were divinity
We all were family of god in enfolded heaven
No racist
No chauvinist
No terrorist
Just one and only a single heavenly beloved mankind in the universe.
Nonbeliever
by Michael R. Burch writing as Kim Cherub
She smiled a thin-lipped smile
(What do men know of love?)
then rolled her eyes toward heaven
(Or that Chauvinist above?).
A cranky old man that rules his household
from his armchair. There isn't one he doesn't scold.
With jabbing comments and taunts;
feels he can say what he wants.
A shameful big mouth, hardheaded and bold.
His chauvinist views; women with boobies
were created to make meals and babies.
He still lives in the stone age
putting people in a rage.
Crazed old man, no respect for the ladies.
2/4/2018
Poetry Contest: Limerick 4
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Syllable count for both:
10,10,7,7,10
10,10,7,7,10
https://www.howmanysyllables.com/syllable_counter/
is counting... " isn't " and " doesn't " as 1 syllable
soups are counting them as 2 syllables
Hungry for a chump to do as I say
a stupid little man to simply look the other way
A well endowed stallion who breaks me off everyday
some sprung guy that gives me money before he goes away
Hungry for a hunk, like the finest thing to see
a ridiculously rich boy who wants to be used by me
So hungry for a chump that wants me to be his wife
yet stays satisfied with supporting me the rest of my life.
1.
We men are all chauvinist pigs tra-la-la,
And love to take girls to our digs tra-la-la
Though girl snorts when she laughs,
We don't care about gaffes,
When our hearts find they're all dancing jigs tra-la-la!
2.
I'm a kid who grew up on the farm tra-la-la
And I don't mean to woo or alarm tra-la-la,
But I'm telling y'all,
Don't make fun of the drawl,
Or you're likely to feel more than charm tra-la-la.
3.
There are Sundays you'll find me in church tra-la-la,
But on weekdays I try to climb birch tra-la-la
I don't care what you say,
I know Frost went this way,
And my muse loves the view from his perch tra-la-la.
4.
I heard "anyone lived in a pretty how town," (1)
But Salvation escaped him, eloped with a clown,
Death is ever the wage paid for sins,
But a child at Christ's feet mostly grins,
Questions asked with no frown; angels bless child's renown!
Brian Johnston
August 15,2017
Poet's Notes:
Limerick #3 is a take off on Robert Frost's famous poem "Birches."
(1) Limerick #4 is meant to be a humorous commentary on a famous e e cummings poem.
In Backwards Land where ladies worship me,
And never cut my brilliant speeches short;
Where women celebrate adultery,
And feel the same as I; they’re merely sport;
Where broads don’t care how many kids I’ve got,
And care far less how many mothers by;
Where chicks acknowledge make-up makes ‘em hot,
And no mascara runs if bunnies die;
There, because then I’d be a perfect man,
Freed bulky baggage through which snoopers dig,
I’d rarely have to fear the frying pan
Greased up ‘n aimed at this chauvinist pig.
Ah, but a pipe-dream. How am I single?
Nevermind, dollies. Who wants to mingle?
1/30/17
Sometimes people hate me because I'm cool.
My coolness makes them look bad.
The haters will go to extreme lengths to throw salt on my coolness.
But coolness is here to stay.
I'm a cool nerd, a cool geek, a cool techie,
A cool rapper, a cool father, a cool friend,
A cool husband, a cool son, a cool brother,
And a cool, educated, man.
I am educated, I am ignorant, I am a nerd,
Am a geek, I am a techie, I am a rapper,
I am a honest person, I am a liar, I am a father,
I am a son, I am a husband, I am a leader.
I am a follower, I am a lover, I am a hater,
I am a feminist, I am a chauvinist,
I am a man born from a woman,
I'm a man forged by men.
I am happy, I am sad, I am real, I am fake (sometimes),
I am young, I am old, I am fast, I am slow,
I am funny, I am boring, I am rich, I am poor, I am a friend,
I am some one's enemy, I am a jack of all trades.
I am a master of one trade,
I am good, I am bad,
I am insightful, I am bleak,
I am life.
The right to freedom
Casts but a shadow of doubt
For the luckiest
Can not see it or hear it
And there appears, chauvinist
Passing of an Icon
An accomplished Lady of recondite letters
Writing humanity to free from its fetters-
From your clever Prose being deciphered,
With skewed minds, is where you differed.
And where, with prejudice, our minds think
Fellow Human beings can foul or sting
Indeed, there the Grass can loudly Sing!
Your discerning Eye and your sharp Wit
Endowed your firm hand with incisive writ-
Doris Lessing, rendezvous of every culture,
You ardently celebrated the pen’s rupture
With that broad mind and feminine looks
Reminiscent of the Golden Notebooks(s);
Thrall from callous confines of Cookbooks!
Doris the Amazon, you were sadly dismissed
Yet, in our hearts you’ll be happily missed;
The Vim, the Spirit, and your Idiosyncrasy
Will be cherished as our invaluable legacy:
Of a male Chauvinist or me a cold raptor,
From time immemorial, being a cruel captor,
To bow stepping forward to accept the Sceptre!
**Dedicated to the Great Writer; Doris Lessing, upon her passing on at her home on 17/11/2013.
JM
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