Long Hard man Poems
Long Hard man Poems. Below are the most popular long Hard man by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hard man poems by poem length and keyword.
I wish I was a tough guy
The kind you meet in books
Made of rock hard muscle
With rugged hard man looks
A Raymond Chandler hero
Exuding macho charm
A super spy or villain
With a beauty on each arm
I’d love to be the kind of guy
That others see and fear
The bane of every coppers life
I'd look at them and sneer
I might fall for a sucker punch
Get beaten up or more, but
I’d meet them face to face
And then, I’d even up the score
Wish I could be like Marlowe
And ooze testosterone
Women falling at my feet
For my heart as cold as stone
I would stand up to the bad guys
When I’d won, I’d get the dame
They would say “who was that tough guy”
I’d say “Rupert, that’s my name”
The poems have been flowing like a river
Must take advantage while it happens
I think they say, “while the iron is hot!”
Other very familiar idioms like...
“A bigger bang for your buck” sure has sexual overtones
“Take the bit between your teeth”
Again, do they all have sexual overtones or is it me???
“Tail wagging the dog” uh-huh
How about, “Wet behind the ears!”
Sounds like someone has been keeping their tongue busy
I like, “Peter out”
Now if that doesn't conjure up an image
“Wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole”
YIKES!!! I wish!
“A hard man is good to find!”
LOL! Nothing to add here!
“Make a clean breast of things!”
No explanation necessary here either!
“Middle for diddle”
Now this one should be at the top of the list
“Caught by the short curlies”
OUCH!!!
One last one...
“Keep it under your hat”
WOW! Now I'd sure like to see that!!!
© Jack Ellison 2014
I once was a farmer
I worked the land
I reaped the corn
With a scythe in my hand
I ploughed my furrow
I sowed my seed
I grew my crops
My family to feed
One day hot and thirsty
With the sun going down
I went for to drink
At the alehouse in town
As I was a drinking
There at the Inn
Without any warning
The press gang came in
So I was taken
I was taken so fast
And told that my future
Was before the mast
So in my fields
I no longer plough
Instead the wide ocean
I must plough now
From hauling on ropes
My hands are all torn
Sometimes I wish
I had never been born
Our captains a hard man
If one of us fails
He'll have us flogged
With a cat o' nine tails
When I climb the rigging
I oft times will find
I think of the family
That I left behind
One day I'll jump ship
And I'll stay on shore
I'll serve the Kings navy
Never no more
I'll return to my loved ones
I'll go back to the land
Once more I will reap
With my scythe in my hand
I've sailed the wide oceans
Seen Paris and Rome
But nothing compares
With my humble home
I jump, but can not leap:
entreating you is like two parallel streets
that do not meet.
My lips, employ straightforward plain words as hidden clues.
Note: I am not a man of eloquent, noble elevated upper schools.
I keep it simple, yet I am very honest and true and also blue.
This is all that I know how and all that I can do.
My words now stolen from a thesaurus and
a scrabble game match I did fuse.
This just to say, may I get to know
all that is truly you.
Please, view that love postcard sent
and the thumbprint impression that was left.
Allow me to press my thumb and do print on it again.
Then see that mark, a match. This the enduring proof
of a love-struck hard man and a very shy personality that is me.
(Now a Kiss!)
I once was a farmer
I worked the land
I reaped the corn
With a scythe in my hand
I ploughed my furrow
I sowed my seed
I grew my crops
My family to feed
One day hot and thirsty
With the sun going down
I went for to drink
At the alehouse in town
As I was a drinking
There at the Inn
Without any warning
The press gang came in
So I was taken
I was taken so fast
And told that my future
Was before the mast
So in my fields
I no longer plough
Instead the wide ocean
I must plough now
From hauling on ropes
My hands are all torn
Sometimes I wish
I had never been born
Our captains a hard man
If one of us fails
He'll have us flogged
With a cat o' nine tails
When I climb the rigging
I oft times will find
I think of the family
That I left behind
One day I'll jump ship
And I'll stay on shore
I'll serve the Kings navy
Never no more
I'll return to my loved ones
I'll go back to the land
Once more I will reap
With my scythe in my hand
I've sailed the wide oceans
Seen Paris and Rome
But nothing compares
With my humble home
Denis Briggs
On one of those old black-and-whites
with Orson "Spendthrift" Welles on board,
and many memos lying ignored,
the studio's money men took fright.
They brought in Stephen "hard man" Fier
to get the budget back in line.
If Orson begged a ball of twine,
he found his invoice scrutineered.
There's no incentive quite like hate.
One night, when craftsmen downed their tools
And wraps were safely wrapped in spools
the great director lingered late,
took brush and paint pot from the shelf
and daubed across one vast white wall,
"We've nothing here to fear at all -
except, that is, for Fier himself."
We never hear our own death knells.
Next day, the words were rubbed out, all.
Someone, in letters six feet tall,
had put, "All's Well that Ends Welles".
A new year has rounded the corner,
with grave news hard on its heels.
A father's friend at kinship's dawn,
a clan's family, by life's sudden dusk.
In so many respects my father's twin,
he could look in a mirror and see Chuck.
To say 'brother' seems not strong enough,
not nearly a sufficing title for the man.
Growing up, he was simply an uncle,
another sarcastic voice in the choir.
Shipmate, soundboard, confidant, kin;
fellow gamer, writer, musical connoisseur.
Buddy, mentor, verbal sparring partner;
hilarious, caring, intelligent, smart-ass.
Always a phone call or a flight away,
each of these things, to each of us or to all.
Thirty years his junior -
yet he asked my advice on,
and I got to be present for,
his first, and sadly only, tattoo.
He got to meet my wife last year,
for which I am beyond thankful.
He sought her counsel for his next tattoo,
which will now be another of hers.
An easy man to like,
with an easy smile and easier laugh,
now a hard man to miss -
but with good stories, of a greater man.
And for those who knew him;
be grateful for having known the dead,
and hold to hope that 'bye' -
is only for now.
There are times in a mans life when he knows he's the best
This is the time his mind and body are undoubtedly the hardest
He's focused more then ever on the tasks at hand
Making him shown as one hard man
When he endures punishment both physically and mentally
Showing his primal side in the face of his enemy
His heart pumps in a rapid course
Disregarding his weakness showing no remorse
A time when all his beliefs become fully released
Unleashing his rage like a caged beast
Precision and finesse in his movements are revealed
When gauging his trespasses on the battle field
Beaten, stabbed, ridiculed and humiliated are his burdens
During his youth as a streetwalking urchin
Bearing and strength come as and easy action
When dealing with pain of any faction.
To this my friend is a hard, hard man
Living in a kingdom of a unruly land
Form:
I listen as she slowly breathes
Praying to God this isn't when she will leave
So far she's lasted longer then anyone thought
Now wrapped up in the red tape we are caught
Papers waiting to be signed
Every dotted one they underlined
Knowing that she can't read them and would just not understand
Leaving each and every choice solely in my hand
Not wanting to give up the right
To choose where she sleeps at through the day and night
Now will all my concerns be taken into thought
Or once I sign will I be the one they forgot
Will she be kept with the ones that care
Or just sent off any where
Here on this I may have just rambled
But on her health I can not gamble
She's not laying in a bed of clovers
And there's nothing like " Do Overs"
As a full grown and some what hard man
I shed a tear and try to understand
If the tables would be turned
Simply in Hell would I burn
Maybe God would just carry me away
Knowing, I did the best I could ever day
But when she gone would she be proud
Thinking I did what was best while crying out loud
An Uncle charlie Original
© 2011 unclecharlie