Long Bender Poems
Long Bender Poems. Below are the most popular long Bender by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bender poems by poem length and keyword.
The Past Flutter
In the ‘shame’ of the mother the daughter and
in unruly spirit a drag queen enters the land
Why not she ponders my Jesus is transgender
he himself turned the tables and went on a bender
Engaged with Magdalene and not all disciples
fit nicely with the notion of strict archetypal
‘normality’ posterity wants to make us believe
that queerness was not up his caring sleeve
Rags and pink feathers surely adorned his crown
yet straight followers of conviction whittled down
diversity otherness distinctive medley variance
excluded themselves from a different stance
Lesbian gay bisexual trans-all Jesus’ are so close
to his or her message in open minded repose
I am not mocking and do not wish to offend
but greatness has no borders in this holy land
10th February 2018
Think you’re a bad man,
It’s really quite sad,
Speak but no actions,
Stationed on tag,
putting on accents,
as do men in drag,
you’ve no connections,
as do your blags.
I wouldn’t dare a psycho violent
sit there, don’t swear keep silent.
Know I don’t need to rent an elf,
I’ll make you bleed by myself,
vex me
I split
I flip
I’m someone else,
A psycho with no boundaries
so shut up the sound
don’t be around me
or in my surrounds,
be sensible and surrender now,
or you’ll be a bender
all bandage strapped and tender.
I’m not someone you want
In your psychological environment,
that’s not violence that’s violate,
trust me,
I’m full on vile mate!
At night I dream of frogs and princesses.
How I would love to wear pastel bright dresses
Dolls and skipping do me enthral
Soccer does nothing for me at all
That's when I'm called a big girl's blouse
That's when deep inside I feel like a louse
Quietly chatting to girls instead of the boys
Who love rough and tumble and make loads of noise
Such moments define my true gender
I hate it when the boys call me a bender
Why can't they leave us to our own choice of roles
instead of forcing us into rigid moulds?
There must be girls who yearn to be male
I for my part would wish them all well.
GENDER BENDER
(Battle of the Sexes)
Today, I do admit I seem confused
About some common words that I have used.
I thought I was a female, not a male,
However now my gender must curtail.
Woke up today to see that I have changed,
You see my gender has been rearranged.
No longer can I call myself woman
However, pretty sure I am still human.
But can’t work out just what I’m meant to be,
If my pronoun excludes me, being she.
I’ve heard and read about this latest news,
And I’m supposed to now change all my views?
I’m not a ‘Birthing Parent’, I’m a mother,
Also, I am a sister to my brother.
I’m not somebody’s partner, I’m a wife,
An adult female woman during life.
My grandkids they all fondly call me nan,
An auntie of my sibling’s children clan.
I’m not a they or them or two or more,
Or any other ‘Woke’ term that’s for sure.
Do not remove my gender from the form,
Or tell me now that I must just conform.
We’ve let the P.C. rulers take control,
Pour language and our culture down their hole.
For wrong terms, names, or pronouns we’re advised
If used, then we should all apologize.
And gendered titles also now offend,
Instead of madam now I’m citizen.
Inclusive language guides have been released,
Identity Politics seems to have increased.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not adverse to change,
But it’s not their right to make me rearrange.
I know I’m not the only one out there,
Who sees the loud minority everywhere.
I think it’s really high time to complain,
And maybe start an anti-Woke campaign.
So please don’t try to change my gender sir,
Because I’m very happy being her.
I’ll stay a wife, a mother, and madam,
And Mrs, aunt, a lady, and woman.
And I don’t care who I may now offend
It is my right, My Gender to defend.
Christine
I so abhor to acquiesce to all this balderdash -
some bloke with his colleen in arm has offered me some cash.
Though dubious that I may be, my dilly dally ways
have left me pinchin' pennies and beggin' for some pay.
So fifty bucks, a rented tux, an easy ride that day,
clandestine gig to get the scoop on what Tallulah says.
I'd heard about that Bankhead broad, a foxy lady sure,
and gender-bender quick to jump in bed with those not pure.
A quintessential interstitial, between the ears she wants,
would go with any randy, rambunctious recalcitrant,
provided they had gizmo, either natural or toy,
and it mattered not whether they were female or a boy.
Though shilly-shally stupid me would often vacillate,
a downtown wing ding Jim jam night sure could tintillate.
Though diddlysquat I knew about the blowhards at this fest,
I grabbed the half o' "C" and proudly donned my hat and vest.
"Who is this Mickey Mouse I see, a hooligan adorned,
whose hither yon and useless ways have often left him scorned!"
And, though I felt like staring there, a mirrored self-lambaste,
I grabbed my cape, usurped my thoughts, with little time to waste.
Old Chico Marx, Doug Fairbanks Jr., Errol Flynn attend.
Shortly warnings cut the air, "On guard my fuzzeled friend!"
Glancing 'round, I'm thankful not to be the rapiered foe.
The Fairbank's stare, the Errol swagger, glissade that they well know.
"Nit pick not", I say, lest I become the prey.
"Affaire de coeur my evil man", I hear Sir Douglas say.
Old codger Chico wryly smiles with guilty funny face,
when then Tallulah enters and her beauty fills the place.
Defend Miss Bankhead, now I must, so I cold-cocked the man,
Then turned around to find Tallulah, face to face we stand.
"Miss Tallulah would ya like ta...well, I guess...get lucky?"
To my surprise, her reply was, "Abso-bloody-lutely"!
Off we went, ethereal bliss, my ego she and me.
Hindsight temps with fifty bucks but I'd do it all for free!
(In a dream!)
It could be mistaken for a shopping list,
or a set of instructions
for assembling a bookshelf,
but you had to go and call it a poem!
Eventually you learn
by the daily application of ignorance and error,
to ride a poem as if it were a unicycle
even so, the larger the wheel
the greater the chance
of a slow-motion fender-bender.
Unless you want to be metaphorically crucified
or theoretically burnt at a stake
for God’s sake don’t give this thing that you do
any kind of definitive name.
Hinged or unhinged they are most often
just thoughts squiggling up to a surface
like worms after a heavy rain,
simply deconstructed word-worms,
but that’s okay
you already said that,
so now you can look cool
and kind of a deep thinker.
I am a sports car
round and sheik
I flash my headlights for him to see
I'm a caramel classic on new black streets
67 model cushiony satin seats
I'm not bragging that's not my style
Reveal my grill is to steal his smile
I've got speed still and make him proud
Not too many dents not too many miles
I was manufactured by God's hands
No need to shave and I understand
My ancestors prayed and they plan
My journey to persevere in these lands
If you hear my horn you think of music
The kind you like I let you chose it
Press the horn step on the gas
Love created me slow but I go fast
If you are smart cruise me baby
Tend to my parts treat me like a lady
Tell me you love me even when love is crazy
Marry me carry me in charms not shady
I can be traded but he knows
My value is more than silver and gold
We survived years had a fender bender too
But crooked places straight God fixed that too
We desire to inspire the next generation
The empire of cars created in celebration
We are all driven casting salutations
We are all living in manifestations
As I age don't mind my nostalgia
Respect my ride and love my flaws
I am heavy I was made to last
I am your future as well as your past.
I owned a bar and I was a successful bartender.
But all of that changed when a customer went on a bender.
He drank too much and I knew that he was in no shape to drive.
If I hadn't sold that much booze to him, three people would still be alive.
He killed those three people when he smashed into their car.
I'm partly responsible so I've decided to destroy my bar.
When I think about those dead people, I feel guilt and sorrow.
A wrecking crew is going to demolish my bar tomorrow.
I can no longer find inner peace even though I search.
I'm donating the land to some people who will build a church.
Donating the land won't make up for my mistake but it will be a start.
I really need to find inner peace because this ordeal is tearing me apart.
I'm moving to another town because the families of the victims want me to go away.
I really hope that God and those families can forgive me someday.
(Even though this poem is fictional, bartenders who sell too much booze to people are partly responsible for drunk driving fatalities.)
Mind Bender
I try to bend my mind around a straight line.
Pondering the lies imbedded in yesterdays truths.
False prophets, masquerading on wisdoms mountain.
"come taste our wares"
I become intoxicated on prides pie.
Tasting success's extinction.
Lives forsaken,
sacrificed on altars of progress.
Beads of glass breaking in upturned palms
whispers from the fallen,
not allowed to cry out.
The language of their ancestors,
silenced,
erased.
What's left?
Is there any trace?
Oil drips along insanities highway.
Multitudes traveling gleefully in the passing lane,
destination... nowhere fast.
munching on fastfood promises
Heading towards a toothpick bridge,
trusting facades of solidity.
Smiling plastic smiles.
Turning the radio dial,
tuned to stations extolling self pride.
God complex.
"All things are possible if I believe in me!"
Living the dream,
suspended within stupidity.
Unable to bend twisted minds.
Failing to seek the straight and narrow path.
The end of us,
no muss, no fuss.
Time stands still.
Momentary pause.
The earth waits,
catches it's breath.
Abrahams Father,
presses restart...
I have a couple of internet Friends in Australia
We like to joke around some, so I wrote them this,
To the tune of "Talk To The Animals" (Dr. Dolittle)
If I could talk to the Aussies
just imagine it
Babbling to a Bloke, in Blokaneses
Imagine Bantering with Bludgers
Chatting to a Cobber
What a neat achievement that would be
If I could talk to the Aussies
Learn all their dialects
Maybe get an Aussie slang degree
I'd study Cone Toad and Dag
Galah, Dill and Bag
And of course Ab-bor-rid-gin-e
I would parle in Punter and Piker
And would curse in fluent Kangaroo
If i'm asked , "Can you speak 'Banana Bender' "
I'ld say "Both Genders, can't you"
If I could talk to the Aussies, learn their languages
Think of all the things we'd disagree
If I could walk with the Aussies
Talk to an Aussies
Slang and Bang and hang with an Aussies
And they could Slang
and Bang
and Hang
with Me !