Long Macho Poems
Long Macho Poems. Below are the most popular long Macho by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Macho poems by poem length and keyword.
Now here's a definition of MACHO
I've never ever heard before
“Male Acting Childish, Hormonal, and Obnoxious”
When I read it, I started thinking of more
There's the ever popular ROTFLMAO
Everybody certainly knows this one
“Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Off”
Used in emails to express some fun
ANFSCD is really a new one on me
“And Now For Something Completely Different”
Originally from a Monte Python skit
At times they were a wee bit irreverent
WYSIWYG is an acronym for
“What You See Is What You Get”
Makes a lot of sense, should be no confusion
But it can still make some people fret
Here's a good one, TNSTAAFL
“There's No Such Thing As A Free Lunch”
Once you realize that, you'll be better prepared
It'll help you a whole great big bunch
This here's a real cute one, SHIAPMP
“So Happy I Almost Peed My Pants”
Was thinking because I used the word 'pee'
Should have warned you guys in advance!
Soon as I'm notified Soup Mail has arrived
My pulse rate increases ten fold
The anticipation is more than this guy can bear
No matter how macho, how old
Something about wondering who it might be
An anonymous admiring lady
Or maybe it's just Drake sending me kudos
Maybe someone a bit more shady
A secret admirer with her love overflowing
Waiting to grant all my wishes
Dream on wee fellow, it's your conscience talking
Act normal, here comes the missus
Hello, little darling, is there anything new
Was just figuring out our taxes
It's just about that time of the year, sweet lady
D'ya think tax ladies have nice asses?
Blew it again, me and my big mouth
She won't ever let me out alone
It's a life in solitary confinement from now on
I should learn to control my groans
© Jack Ellison 2104
A Badge and a Gun
A gun and a badge makes you macho and brave
A chain and a whip makes another a slave
The past can’t be forgotten as much as we try
Two hundred years on and people still cry
Ask yourself why you do, just what you do?
Punch the innocent who stand in front of you
Instead of being the person for what you are paid
You taunt and hurt and shoot and degrade
You have the badge and it gives you the right
To arrest the guilty and we understand your plight
But there’s bad apples in the barrel of every gun
And you stand and you aim, hoping they’ll run
Your allegiance is noted, the president smiles and gloats
Hides in his bunker, while a sycophant takes notes
In your ivory tower, with your thoughts and your tweets
While your mistakes and crimes, hide under white sheets.
David cox 05/06/20
Maria Flores
1878-1923
Si, he was muy macho!
I was the last to see him.
Before Senor White sealed his body for eternity,
Inside the cheapest casket I had ever seen!
And I was working there, for White-Emerson,
From the time I was 16,
Combing the dead’s hair, and mixing make-up.
Señora White, she put the make-up on their faces,
And I stood back by the door and watched.
At first, it was two or three bodies a week,
Mostly white folk, stiff and cold as ice;
They were Whittier people I did not know;
Older folk with life’s road behind them,
And young childer, brought in by wailing parents,
Dead from sickness and accident.
I prayed for these poor people because they were sad.
Later, the visits of the ever-marching dead,
Became a more common event,
Every day he, Señor White, brought the dead in,
Every day I combed their hair.
This I did until I myself died in 1923,
Giving birth to my still-born son.
Then it was my turn for Señora White,
To apply my face with fake life;
Her creams, rinses and perfumes, magically,
Made me appear as alive as I was.
But oh, I wish now to trick fake death,
And live again,
Be there again,
Down in the dark embalming room,
There at White Emerson, with him.
Si, he was muy macho!
And yes, I was the girl to love Roscoe last!
Me, a nobody Mexican with little money.
Shh, let us whisper now.
Let us be quiet and honest;
I was the last one to coddle him there,
The last to stroke his lifeless bill,
My eagle of a man!
There in the still darkness,
He, the most handsome boy,
My eyes had ever seen!
Dead and lifeless there,
In my secret embrace!
Dead in my controlling grasp!
I combed his locks for two hours,
And prayed, yes, I prayed,
For his departed soul, and body too,
For, let it be known to all,
For it no longer matters at all,
I was the last girl to have him.
Muy Macho!
It was love at first sight seeing your furry faces.
To scoop you up and take you to various places.
Me and Ash are so happy to be your mom and dad.
Your shenanigans made us both glad and mad.
First our oldest Robbie, thinking you’re a big kitten.
Reminding me of a decade ago when first we were smitten.
Your belly always seems to never be full enough.
And disappointed when I stop brushing your scruff.
When Chloe, Max & Gabby went to fur heaven.
It was time for 2 babies after birthday eleven.
So with Zoey now turning one,
The house was ready for fun.
Our girl filled a void, being sweet and playful.
With wet food she always wanted a mouthful.
When getting Olivia as a tiny white fluff ball.
Zoey became surrogate mom of a baby small.
They would chase, wrestle and groom.
So fast, as a white and grey zoom.
Becoming instant soul mates.
It was totally worth the waits.
Browsing exotic pets we discovered Highlands.
With their amazing six and seven finger hands.
Having the look of a lynx deep in the wild.
Ashley’s research on the breed compiled.
The unique physical traits grabbed our eyes.
These affordable purebreds are great buys.
We spoke with some breeders and were sold.
One of these guys would surely love our fold.
So when a lil dude was born a few hours away.
We knew he would become our kid today.
Ash worked it out with them in every detail.
It was clear there was no way this could fail.
So I sit glowing with him resting behind me.
Laying in Ryder’s lap on his furry heinie.
Now Ry has a buddy loving PJ Masks like him.
Ready to relax and play at his random whim.
Seeing his massive paws and fluffy stubby tail.
His macho features couldn’t look more male.
At first he’s moving around quiet and slow.
So I wonder how his excitement will show.
Will he mimic behaviors of our prior felines?
Or uniquely ask for his leash with whines?
He’ll meet his new siblings in just a few hours.
Making himself at home on our catified towers.
My Tucker, it’s now official you’re our furry son.
With those big mitts I can’t wait to see you run!
MY TRIBUTE TO DAD
The Last 10 years
Looking after the Father I respected and idoloized as a kid for the last 10 years has been rough,
To see the pride, and the assertive masculine side of him slowly fade away was tough.
It has however revealed to me that no matter, Young or Old we all must always remain Kind & Humble.
For one day, we too might need to rely on our loved ones to assist us as we get older trying not to stumble.
I remember wishing I could alleviate your illness and remove your pain,
Up to me? You’d rule this world? On a throne is where you’d reign.
It took awhile for that Macho Manly side of him to dissipate and allow us to help him get thru.
I’d remind him of how as a child he helped raise me! So please allow me to help him do what he gotta do.
One of my greatest joys was the few Annual Fathers Day outings of going to a Dodger Game
And every trip you would relish reciting the history of the Dodgers, and knew every player by name
My father meant the world to me, my virtual Superman, an awesome guide and example of how a Father should be.
Dedicating time to his Family,
Possessing a strong work ethic, and to “Never Quit!” is what he embedded in me..
So Today? As he passes from being that constant inspirational man in my life?
To a person who carved his values into me like a knife?
I just want to say….
You will always be in my heart and ingrained in my memory.
Thank you for teaching me and leaving me a true Legacy.
I will miss and never forget the things you instilled in me other guys never had,
That example of a real man, and a man I was always proud to call “MY DAD!”
My suit of self-loathing no longer fits
The mirror of compassion tells me so
Years of bad-intentions held back growth
After a time, the length of my sleeves bind
I didn’t realize I’ve become over-sized
These angry pants are fit for a small child
How silly I look with cuffs choking wrists
How I’ve loved my painfully straight jacket
Like it or not, the right suit still waits
No one other than I can disrobe loathing
The best cloak is the one from the womb
It takes skill to unstitch a childish blazer
It takes care to unhem pants outgrown
It takes love to go out in my birthday suit
Let tatters of anxiety fall down the chute
Self-loathing keeps me from disrobing
But, I’m not ready to shed my suit yet
The manly scissors that cuts are too heavy
After self-loathing is bare understanding
Forgive the man unstitching childishness
Let go of short-comings without clinging
Take the macho suit off the rack with care
Try on that fitted suit made for just me
Wear it till love fills the over-sized space
Take it all off till nakedness feels nice
Matthew 24:18
"Whoever is in the field must not turn back to get his cloak."
awaiting interpersonal subsequent situation
aye tend to get ants
see when in the midst awaiting
said sub routine involving
outcome of circumstance
the parameter, perimeter, potentiometer,
et cetera extents
sifts out the destructive sycophants
versus real boot not nacho
munching macho gents
thus ipso facto fur cher
pro bono, and hence
gaining kudos for fas innocence
je nais sais quois joie de vivre personal aim
finds this lapsed passive pen sieve blame
less body electric alternating
between defendant versus claim
"FAKE" aunt Emma, who wrote to said
real or fictitious dame
purportedly gave solicited feedback exclaim
ming absolute zero tolerance
for acquiescent docile frame
within the real versus make believe
Milton Bradley board game
of LIFE as well my late mum (Chris Anne)
whose maternal sermons
included a ban
against blindly enlisting
into any sect chew will clan
purporting pretending posturing
as Dudley Do-right dan
sing with the stars amidst a Euclidean
Geometry auditorium,
where the glitzy dazzling audience
flush with many a fan
gnat tics toward a particular couple
said open eyed spectators
focused glazed eyes and grand
huzzahs on a man or woman,
who took charge hand
dilly directing his/her partner
acrobatic aeronautics inland
pro active with guiding he or she
toe till lee tubular counterpart re
speck ting decorum, yet pre
zen ting a choreographed production nee
an utterly out of this world with lee
ping skyward ward jumps key
pin equipoise holy jee
purrs, which scenario
analogous to taking bold
measures tubby
forthrightly assertive fold
ding arms crosswise
across chest, taking hold
din stance without conveying
a haughtiness mold.
My quota short, those letters all I got -
You know I’ve never asked my parents why…
A famous Jack, the Ripper – surely not!
I really wouldn’t/couldn’t harm a fly.
The bright and breezy sailor comes to mind -
Although I’ve never fully gone to sea,
I’ve crossed the Channel (sailing of a kind),
But truly nautical I’ll never be.
The spooky lantern used at Halloween,
Its carved up grinning pumpkin face aglow!
I guess I couldn’t pass off looking mean -
Okay, perhaps that one’s another no.
Aha, I see – old English term for man!
I don’t believe I’m macho stuff, alas.
Although I act as manly as I can,
I’m not a he man - no, I’ll have to pass.
I wondered why and had to ask my folk.
‘Ah,’ Mother said. ‘I thought you’d ask me that.
‘We couldn’t choose - and then my waters broke…
‘Your father drew a name out of a hat!’
~The Rhinoceros That Roared~
The Wrinkled skin of the Rhinoceros
Steel hard, no man can penetrate
The young buck on the tourist bus
Thought if he killed one, his lovers heart he could take.
He wanted to be a macho man...
But he was just a spoilt rich boy
He took his souped up jeep out there
He roared the engine of his favorite toy.
The horn of the Rhino he wanted to win
To give to the girl he loved, as a prize
It is supposed to be an aphrodisiac
But he was in for a great big surprise.
He faced the Rhino in his souped up jeep
The Rhino looked bored, if one can, so to speak…
Pedal to the metal, head on towards the horn
The wheels spun, the earth showered, the Rhino looked forlorn.
The jeep roared at the Rhino, who opened his mouth up wide
Just as the souped up idiot hit-and he drove on right inside
The Rhino swallowed and walked away with a jaunty gate
The girl he lost, he disappeared, for them it was to late…
Tales are told in whispered voice still through out the land
They tell of a Rhino who does strange things when his temper is fanned
His eyes flash, his feet spin, a horn beeps, and more
Just don’t get in front of him, because you can hear an engine roar…
©~GG~ 19/08/2012