Guys Poems - Poems about Guys

Of then, Smoke of a squandered summer morn The barrel of a summer afternoon And the spittle of the soundless shots of the stars within a summer eve Homeless homage, tainted talent awaits to watch and berate Wilting wonders to wound a heart the size of a horse Hoarse to mourn the drowning drought of the mellow monnow To drown the...

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the laws and codes to take life and move forward after death called dishonoring his beauty my idols timecards his tickets paid pta debts and laughter to be the father i look to be a boy from knowing how his world ends and cheating with you, again please yourself for once keep your hands off of us so he can't see me save myself...

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Clint Eastwood hard to believe he played a cowboy called the good then fought crime and made the bad guys pay and said go ahead and make my day ...

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While we’re renaming things, can we please rename “United States” to “AAAmerica.” I know I’m tired of scrolling to the bottom of every pop-down country list. And ARE we united? Really, even a little? That awkward moment when you’re already said, “what?” three times, and you still have no idea what the conversation is about, but you can tell, by bouncy...

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(“Nonbinary”, 2023, original encaustic) Who Are The Good Guys? It’s a simple question and obvious assumption But the “good guys” are always “us” And not them. And yet all around us, all the time We see people changing sides Growing up, becoming wiser, or more corrupt But making a change, a conversion, a choice To be themselves in new ways, or sometimes Just their...

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(a university-life vignette) It’s a Friday night, Leong and I are at a small restaurant close to the dorm called “Ordinary.” We’re in a cozy, pleasantly dark, little red booth—waiting for Lisa—who’s running late. This is Leong’s favorite bar and her taste in exotic drinks is labile—tonight she has us drinking ‘Maker’s Mark,’ a delicious, straight-up...

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Met you then Saw you now Then You were just one of them Now I search for you in the crowd Then there were no butterflies to be found Now I feel there’s a crowd fluttering inside Your beautiful dark eyes Your charming smile And the way you say my name every time...

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My wife is a poet and I am not, She creates with her pen, I use robot! She doesn’t know the truth,No! not a hint, I don’t look in her eyes, lest reads a glint! She picks topics at random to challenge, by night ready poetry is for exchange, if she wins, in different room I stay, If I win, wow, wow!...

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Written By: D. Collins 5/9/24 A triple-knee crack and a hip not ready to move. Are signs an OG (old guy) should hand over his tools. Don't push it to the limit trying to throw a football. And, definitely refrain from shooting basketballs. Watch your ass in the snow when walking the dog. A wind-blown leaf could land you in...

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They usually show up early Today some came an hour Ahead, and its only Tuesday What brought on that enthusiasm in this shower. They could have waited until The storm is over around ten Staying at home and Lying in their warm bed But out in this horrible, terrible Cold, wet weather In those damp, smelly trucks How do they endure it altogether And...

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a single guy who freely flies without looking to date never bothering with girls who play the game of chase because those games tell me those girls ain’t really to my taste they wouldn’t go and make the effort they want me too waste they’re self serving not observant I’d rather escape playing with my...

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Lisa and I had been watching some boys strut about, as they played soccer, in their little shorts, in the freezing cold. It’s an old animal story. The game ended, or it was intermission and about twenty guys came streaming into the cafeteria, their cleats sounding like a hundred keyboards clacking all at once. They were laughing,...

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So unapologetic not like I could carry all my shame Here’s to a better future! one that we’re not in… I’m tracking patterns through the water system, a river full of waste Where sinking flowers drown in oxygen with misadventures taking place Exit safely, the scarcity complex that is your concentration A river full of waste; a minefield of...

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During the quake of seventy-three I shivered and shook. The rest of us stared at this guy, an ancient old cook. The trembling that went on that day, gave me PTSD. I looked at his granddaughter, glad he is no kin to me. I am tired of these stories about disaster and such. Living through Viet Nam War, and other...

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Atilla was a Huney and Goliath too ~ when compared to you Hitler was a madman, evil at his core ~ a creature to abhor Empowering Iraq was Saddam Hussein ~ the tyrant was insane Himmler was responsible for the Holocaust ~ lives of Jews were lost Bin Laden's al-Qaeda attacked the Towers ~ vile misuse of powers Manson...

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