Long Gender Poems
Long Gender Poems. Below are the most popular long Gender by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gender poems by poem length and keyword.
As a man
He wasn’t taught to
Cry or show emotion
So, he exchanged tears for
ink in the pen to express what
Was bottled up from within.
A mask of steel, he wears with pride,
As a man, he wasn't taught to cry or hide,
Emotions locked deep, a secret kept inside,
For showing weakness, he'd be denied.
The weight of his heart, a heavy load,
A burden he bears, a story untold.
But what if he could let the tears fall free,
And release the pain, the sorrow and the sea?
Perhaps then he'd find solace and peace,
And learn to heal, to mend and to release.
He yearns to break free,
But still he holds on,
afraid to show the cracks in his facade,
afraid to be vulnerable,
afraid to be weak.
And so he remains,
a prisoner of his own emotions,
a man trapped in a sea of unshed tears,
searching for a way to release
the pain that has become his greatest fear.
Aunt Mary’s sprawling wrap-around porch
hid curious six-year-old me.
Peeking over the baluster rail,
I spied Cross Creek Rosie passing by,
tall and stately, walking purposefully
down Jefferson Avenue.
Her constant companions,
rumors and cruel taunts,
pursued alongside.
In an era lacking preferred pronouns,
she was exotic intrigue,
inquisitive mystery,
a Pandora’s box of queries,
the circus orchestra
rife with colorful discordant notes.
Flamboyant scarlet turban,
deeply rouged cheeks, fiery red lipstick,
black mascara adorning manly features,
gypsy-like blouse spattered in rainbow hues,
black toreador slacks.
My tiny heart ached for her.
Small hand lifted in greeting,
I whispered, “Someday I want to be like you.”
Would I ever walk confidently in my own skin?
On fertile ground, we pray, in surrender
Each breath anew, beholding in wonder
Bemused not by illusions, feet on ground
We see life as it is; merry-go-round
Mindful that our touch, to each be tender
No bias held, for colour or gender
Love suffused, leaving no hearts asunder
Inner sound current within us resounds
On fertile ground
Though body decays, like dying ember
Heightened rapture of bliss, soundless thunder
No longer are by fears and desires bound
Within spacial heart, soul luminous found
Esoteric truths, we slowly garner
On fertile ground
31-July-2021
This or That, Vol 5 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
I know women of worth
the name of human they earn
gems conceived in their fertile earth
how for their company souls yearn!
I know women of wisdom
human beings of character and spirit
for each, home is a kingdom
a wealth of beauty to inherit.
I know women of grace
the divine gift not just a feminity
It’s the merit to belong to human race
Love and compassion, their natural affinity.
I know women of endurance
exhaustion and pain ignored
their strength inspiring assurance
ever giving more than they can afford.
I know women of poesy
a universal voice in black and white
what stems from them is rosy
thoughts and feelings, a beacon of Light.
I feel I haven’t all said
on women, not as a gender
of great women, their path I didn’t tread
In them I hail humanity as a wonder!
Besma
August 26th, 2020
That's somebody's mother
That's somebody's sister
That's somebody's brother
That's somebody's grandmother
That's somebody's grandfather
That's somebody's aunt
That's somebody's uncle
That's somebody's cousin
That's somebody's dad
See human trafficking has no
Age
Color
Size
Shape
Gender
Name
Does not even matter
it will sneak up on a individual without a warning
It can appear anywhere
School
Work
Park
Library
Mall
Does not matter what time of day
Morning
Noon
Night
It's best to just stay in the house but even that's not safe
Human trafficking can appear
Anywhere
Anytime
Anyplace
I feel like I’m your biggest regret
Was I really that much of a threat
Your chose your way of life
Did not require a sacrifice
My fault I was the wrong gender
A boy was not a contender
Wasn’t supposed to be born the way I am
So you made me the sacrificial lamb
You punished me into quietness
Hidden away and frightened us
The embarrassment of the family
You carried on your lives happily
Without me there
You left me in despair
Rejected for just living
My biggest flaw unforgiving
A thing out of my control
So you destroyed my soul
I had to learn on my own
Not loved of shown
You never showed a path for being an adult
You had a passion to insult
I made many mistakes
Before I realised you were the snakes
I often fail and be objective
Because you told me I was defective
I get things wrong
And always struggle to belong
I’m not sure what’s happening in this country…sometimes I think it’s being overrun by fools…in some states they’re banning books…in my state, Florida, they’re banning talking about gender and sexuality in schools.
While closing up the bookstore the other night I was thinking how crazy can this be…
as I was re-shelving one of the books they’ve banned in Tennessee.
Topics not allowed to be discussed…books not allowed to be read…I don’t have the words to express my sadness and dismay…so I walked around our bookstore and listened to what the voices around me had to say.
Kurt Vonnegut was first to speak…at how banning book displeases:
“I hate”, he said, “that Americans are taught to fear some books and some ideas, as though they were diseases”.
Mart Twain was next on banning speech and books…he doesn’t want to see us do it:
“Censorship”, he said, “is telling a man he can’t have a steak just because a baby cannot chew it”.
Next stood Benjamin Franklin…with his willingness to teach
“Whoever wold overthrow the liberty of a nation,” he said, “must begin by subduing the freeness of its speech”.
Stephen Chbosky waited his turn in the bookstore to be heard that night:
He said, “banning books gives us silence when we need speech…
it closes our ears when we need to listen
and it makes us blind when we need sight”.
Isaac Asimov weighted in next…he was succinct in what he was conceding:
“Any book worth banning," he’s said, “is a book that is worth reading.”
Up and down the bookstore I walked listening to a multitude of authors from the present and past…and fortunately for me…I saved the best for last..
It was Maya Angelou whose words are always inspiring, thought provoking and wise…She said, “You may kill me with your hatefulness but still, like air…I rise”.
I thanked Maya and all the other authors for their insights as I turned off all the lights
Then wished them a calm and peaceful sleep as I locked up for the night
Filled with hope that for those who want to ban books and speech…there will come a day when they will take a walk through a bookstore or a library and listen to what the voices have to say,
I was reading the New York Post
on Election Day sitting at a table
distant from others and felt safe;
a pretty girl in her twenties in a red uniform
wearing a blue cap to break the norm,
asked me for my order and as I looked up
the portrait of President Trump lit up
from a filtered sunray through the store window,
" It's a good omen for a vibrant president
waiting on a victory that even myself predicted. "
Today is a bright day, but it lingers with sorrow...
every nation looks to America for a future so dimmed.
The puzzled waitress stared at me and repeated,
" Sir, may I have your order? " " Oh, yes, coffee
with pancakes, please. " " No sausages, or ham?"
" Just plain pancakes." I kindly said.
" She took my order and scurried away
a little perplexed, almost in dismay...
while the portrait of Trump continued to gleam.
Coffee was served, but on the table, there was no cream,
" I don't drink black coffee where's the cream, transgender? "
I got slapped twice and felt some pain, the angry manager
came out, but she was fatter than a cow, I was terrorized.
I apologized for any silly remark as I touched my hair so unkept,
" No gender harassment in this restaurant is permitted! "
You are a Trump supporter and you dislike the girl I hired! "
I am going to slap you four times for your inappropriate comment
and pour coffee all over your hair that needs a haircut I deem! "
I got up and dripping with hot coffee, I saluted Trump's portrait and left.
When I fell from the turnip truck today
Bouncing down the dusty road
With my highest IQ intact
Lost and confused in the dirt
Landing in the ditch quite finished
To think that I could have been one with the many
Going off to market on parade on display today
Ending up on someones dish or plate
The proximity escapes me
Being eaten would have fulfilled my destiny
The child smiles and states with confidence
Mommy! daddy! This turnip sure taste delicious
They respond with a wink and laugh
That produce is orange and thin my dear
It is called a common carrot
Oops! My mistake
That's great
Authors note: (The gender of the child is unknown in the poem....but does it
really matter?) Also: The author wishes to distance himself from the "dish" or "plate" controversy. You decide.
What if boys were named for girls ?
What if girls were named for boys ?
Would girls play with cars and trains
or other sorts of toys ?
Would boys play with dolls and frills
or wear dresses - "Oh, so cute!"
Would everyone stay just the same
or would it be a "Hoot?"
What if men had the babies
and girls went off to war?
It would be a different world,
that's the only thing that's sure.
What would you choose your name to be
if you were the opposite sex ?
I do not know what mine would be,
but I certainly would be vexed.
Just imagine how it would seem
in such a Topsy-Turvy world.
So let's just keep it as it is...
Boys as Boys and Girls as Girls!