Long Masculinity Poems
Long Masculinity Poems. Below are the most popular long Masculinity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Masculinity poems by poem length and keyword.
There’s thousands of puzzles that have never been solved and never will be
Please excuse my OCD as it floods my brain completely
I’m a man of cold hard evidence
As I’ll be sure to fax you all my fax complete receipts
As they continuing printing
“Follow me, I can give you answers you didn’t know you needed”
What he whispers in the ears of the vulnerable
Dear prince of fallen angels,
Tell me every demon was once apart of heaven
She could have dropped her sword and ran
But instead she used your words against you indisputably
She runs away with the weight of the world on her shoulders,
and the power to turn any metal into gold
And any heart into a slave for her idolized soul
She had the politicians begging for answers and writing down notes
While your fathers prayed tenfold
There’s thousands of unsolved crimes that have never been solved
and never will be
And there’s no justice in higher security
But the warriors in red have a hold of me
Showing me a more progressive way of masculinity
While your fathers blew their money on tokens of affection,
Paying for love tenfold
There’s a million questions I have about my mind that have never been answered, and never will be
Like why my OCD has to take over me completely,
Repeating the same lines to myself quietly
I feel like a mental patient in my own hospitality
Writing novels of accountability
While your fathers were on their hands and knees
With blood on their hands,
Screaming “why did this happen to me?”
Like feeling relief after a break up
Something was your sign all along
We either don't see it until it's too late
Or we choose to ignore it
And you can't convince me otherwise;
Spies have one job
And yours was to be a part of my life
I'm used to feeling disappointed
But that doesn't mean it gets less scathing
And you can't convince me otherwise;
A spy has one job
And with the blood on your hands,
Caught red-handed,
You failed at only disappointing me slightly
You didn't have it in you to give me the bare minimum
Like the warriors before you that dropped their swords and ran,
Regretting their choice of a life of violence over romance
Dear prince of fallen angels,
Please remind me that every demon was once at the hands of God,
fighting for forgiveness tenfold
A man should first know his own strength,
what it is he can and cannot do,
our physical power is no small thing,
use it wrong and you’ll be truly screwed,
they’ll take everything away from you.
But on the right job, or in self-defense
it’s a boon that can make all the difference.
A man should know that he has to work,
that without it there’s no dignity,
that hand-outs just put you on a leash,
make you someone else’s property,
for them to move around endlessly.
To truly be free, you’ll have to labor,
earn the respect of yourself and your neighbor.
Man should know of his nation’s past,
what it cost to get where we are now,
the good and the bad, and who sacrificed
to give us the life freedom allows,
not all folks with this chance are endowed.
It is our duty to see it live on,
to not do so would leave our children wronged.
A man should know to carry a knife,
and to own and use a firearm,
to know the when and why of such things,
in defense only should he cause harm,
or if hunting food down on the farm.
But trusting to fate will leave a man dead,
you must have the tools to hand evil its head.
A man should know how to spend his money,
how to plan ahead and make a budget,
and to put aside for the unforeseen,
it always hits when your least expect it,
and a killer lies within large debts.
It’s not just cash, it’s hours of your life,
things are easier when you spend it right.
A man should know that human nature
is something that’s never going to change,
and all who think they’ll ‘remake’ the world
as either childish, evil, or insane,
their ideas end in nothing but pain.
Treat people as the mixed batch they are,
at least then you’ll have the chance to go far.
A man should know that women are built
different not just in body, but in mind.
Each sex will have its natural strengths,
and we play to them all the time.
Given our aggression men will find
use in restraints from old chivalry,
no matter the protests of the feminazis.
A man should know how to be sincere,
to be honest in his life and his work,
to hold close to a firm code of honor
so as not to devolve into a jerk,
but to still remember how to hurt,
because if you can’t, if you have no backbone,
then you can forget a life that’s your own.
Sex is the sharing of the souls.
When I am inside you, you are inside me.
When our eye’s meet, our shame meets.
It’s ironic how I can only meet your gaze in the most intimate moment of our relationship.
I construct my own reality from a fantasy land, living in the grandeur of illusion.
But when your hands roam over me, I feel like more than just a man.
Some kind of jaded masculinity molded from guilt.
My love for you is all I can give to you.
You deserve better than this.
A dysfunctional codependent relationship, I am a martyr, and you are a masochist.
Why do you “Love the way I Lie”, in the broader scheme of things, this life isn’t right.
If I were you I would cut my loses and say goodbye.
Say goodbye to the stagnation and the toxic rumination of this love born of pity and fueled by a sense of guilty obligation.
I am afraid to read what my diagnosis would be…Narcissist, sociopath…Yeah that could be me.
I love you more than I love myself, I know that.
I am obsessed with you.
But you are not a possession and you can choose.
Trust me girl, anything but the air I breathe I would rather choose you.
But even my air I would willingly give to you.
You already have my heart and my mind too.
So I had a deadbeat childhood, and you did too.
That’s probably the source of our attraction.
But the fundamental difference between me and you,
Is that you refuse to be a victim, and all I do is worry about life without you.
Textbook head case, a legitimate nutcase, those are my character traits.
You are so damn beautiful it is consuming to be in the same room with you.
Without a doubt there is no greater feeling than walking hand in hand with you.
I may be sick.
I may be addicted to you,
But without a second thought or a moments doubt I would die for you.
But for the sake of your future, girl it’s time for me to lose you.
Run, don’t look back.
You better believe I will remember you.
Who the hells knows why you ever loved me,
Or ever walked up to me in the first place.
But you have carried this burden too long.
It’s not fair; you have done far more than your fair share.
So it’s time for you to leave, we both know that.
You have just been waiting for me to confront that fact.
But before you leave, one last thing,
It’s all I have left to share,
Take my air.
I have gazed upon her eyes to wonder why? For they have brought me a memories of another for I could not have. Yes, this is what I saw? Her skin black like the night that plays together as like passing, Her eyes brown that holds the mystery of her, Her lips light to touch form like those playful clouds children love to shape, Her nose speak to breathe but don't dare, The whole lining of her face for which it took the maker an life times to create, just so that whatever man true of heart may hold her all the days of his life. Her shoulders lenght to her arm to hands are beautifully form from what mejesty, Her chest made flat to hold the two mountains that are her breasts, her breasts like two circles that tenderly move ever so slowly as I tremble showing me their true form like babies out to play, Her belly like her chest flat but like with a masculinity of a well bound mother. How neatly shaped the hair on her garden , which show the flesh that has brought men to their knees. I alone desire to speak and meet, but she walked away with her Buttlock gently moving from side to side declaring her womanhood. For she is the Queen of a once forgotten kingdom, The Queen of the Kinglessking. The wholeness of her body spoke to say, Take this kiss upon your lips with the parting of you, thus this much let me avow you are not wrong. who deem that my days be but an dream, yet, hope has frowned away into the night, or in the day, or, in a vision, or, in none. is it therefore the less gone? For all that we see or seen, I stand amid a roar of suf-tortured souls, and I hold within my hands grains of golden sand, How few, yet how they creep through my fingers into the deep. while I weep! while I weep? O YAH can I not grasp tighter clasp? O YAH can I not save but one from the pitiless waves all that I see or seen? Her beauty to me was like those nice yoke that Genlty moves over a perfume sea. The weary way worn wonderer bore to her own native on desperate sea long to want. Her hyacinth woody hair, Her classic face, Her naiad air that has brought me to see her glory? O the grandeur that was lo in her brilliant willow niche statue like I saw her there? The agate lamp that is in her soul! (ah) Psyche from the region which are holy
HOLY IS THE NEW FLESH
burning the rights of an ancient Sacrifice
by ancestors holy and profane
the offerings of an Intellectual ape
hairless and Afraid
of the indiscriminate night
unknown regions far from human sight,
flesh made new holy and precious
burnt to the divinity of the unknown
the thing is seen in corner of dreams n nightmares
of primitive man
a righteous being; so holy is the flesh
made new by the blood
the blood of the righteous lamb
the lamb of the infinite infernal and intimate god
the god of nothing and everything all there is and ever was
the first last and always
the alpha and omega
the universal intellect
the void
Cold inhuman or the voice next to your soul
a creator mad and whole
a being of infinite jest
the new covenant
the breaker of bread
the devour of the new flesh
the science and sacrament
of blood and atonement
feeling Valhalla calling the new flesh, home
holy and sacred
the science and sacrament
of blood and atonement
feeling new
righteous
in the flesh
the burning of offerings
to the dark void above
ashes cast to the unknown below
holy is the new flesh made clean
by an infinite creation
a finite god
of holy ghost
flesh re-mastered
masculinity of soul
the lushness of the feminine grace
a goddess
a whore
the duality of the new flesh
the tightest of lace
burning in the nights
of an ancient Sacrifice
ancestors holy and secular
the offerings of an intellectual ape
hairless and afraid of the indiscriminate night
unknown regions far from human sight
flesh new holy and precious
burnt to the divinity of the unknown
the thing is seen in corner
of dreams and nightmares
of primitive man, grand
a righteous being
so holy is the flesh
made knew by the blood
of the righteous lamb
the lamb of the infinite infernal
an intimate irrational god
cries:
“sacred is the new flesh”
“…To rethink the flow and the rhythm,
the tumbling out of the words,
is a betrayal, and it's a sin…”
So…
“…Long live the New Flesh!”
David Cronenberg
To my daughter who never listens.
Life is not as simple as a cliché.
It's not lullabies and butterflies.
Not all sounds are soothing,
not all flowers are faithful.
It's not as relaxing as a reverie,
rarely as poetic as a poem,
so you can't hide everything behind metaphors.
You have to express your true verses,
you have to serenade in your own melody -
but never forget the chorus to our song.
Life is full of storytellers who will lead you astray,
so never believe everything you hear or see -
create your own biography, make your own history.
Our existence is fragile like petals,
yet your birth created an oasis in my heart.
I remember when they said you would not blossom,
yet you flourished in essences of evergreen elegance.
I was the first to cradle you in my arms,
as I promised to protect you endlessly.
Hoping that you would soar forever,
spread your wings higher and higher.
We never truly realise the sacrifices of our parents.
I wonder if you will ever know,
how sometimes all I had left was my smile -
never would I reveal my frailties.
It was not a simple case of masculinity,
because even the most ferocious lion cries.
I hope you never face a struggle,
as difficult as the trials forsaken upon me
and
I'm sorry if at times you saw no emotions,
apologies for the tears I never let you see,
nor the fears I never allowed you to feel,
but it was the way I was brought up to be,
it's how reality curated my personality.
If the suppression of my feelings made you distant -
remember a father will always be a shepherd for his flock.
Wars from the past have infiltrated mankind,
yet there will be many battles to come -
just don't fall asleep among heartless sleeping souls.
I shiver upon the thought of our closing goodbye,
when my shield can no longer protect you,
as every knight has to eventually lay down his sword.
The world can be a cruel and wild place,
and I remind you there is always a rainy day,
so choose wisely the paths to ponder upon -
learn how to build your own abode.
You'll always be a baby in my eyes.
I'll always be so proud.
Even in silence... I will forever love you.
Dad.
Feminized
“This subversion was accomplished by taking advantage of two kinds of vulnerability that women raised in our society tend to have. The first is the quality of self-sacrifice, a learned willingness to set their own interests aside and be used and even used up by the community...
The second kind of vulnerability trained into women is a readiness to believe messages of disdain and derogation.”
~ Mary Catherine Bateson, Composing a Life, p. 54, First Plume Printing, October, 1990
In the moment at which her lovely shoe has just reared back
After I’d come to a stop atop it
My temerity in having been shoved down the flight of steps
At the bottom of which she stands
Having resulted in annoying her dainty foot
What inspiration’s thrusting it forward
To bury itself amid ribs
No longer mine?
In the quiet conversations betwixt Sunday school and service
What inspiration’s guiding the gossip
About yet another young man
Following a call of seduction
Followed by a call to the police
And the final call to a court that believes her every word
No longer his?
In the august halls of corporate consummation
Where products once designed to last
Crafted to provide quality service over years
Via jobs that straddled whole careers
What inspiration’s driving the quarterly cycles
Moody and impertinent as menstrual periods confined
No longer home?
In the light like it’s like light of heavenly grace
Where before an audience of like familiar litsos rolls or sidles
The most lovely young devotchka you could ever hope in all your jeezny
Whom Alex the large would like to have right down there on the floor
With the old in-out real savage
What inspiration’s coming skorry as a shot
Making him want to like heave in entrailing keeshkas
No longer his?
In the society rendered bereft of male vigor and energy
What inspiration’s asserting steady direction
Toward care and heartfelt protection
Of those weaker more wayward of less physical capacity
Shifting drifting changing winds in exchange for brash audacity
Armchair sports the glib vestige of masculinity
A world that once could’ve had a purpose
No longer ours?
~ Thanks Always Returns
Happy 5th birthday have you accepted rape into your life,
It's a patriarchal practice built from sadism and male strife,
A hedonistic ritual to keep us all under control,
The birthright of masculinity bestowed upon all men young and old,
They'll decry our institution of commercialized fear funded by the tax payer's dime,
But don't let them hide the irrevocable fact that their gender alone commits crime,
Just listen to their protests of our paranoia and self-destructive delusions,
Wielding weapons of statistics the opposition seeks to incite societal confusion,
Be wary of their minstrels reciting chants for equality,
Brace yourself against the trollish foot soldiers' brutal tactics of social media skullduggery,
Be mindful my child the only knights in your life should be white,
Not those racist, misogynistic, patriarchal, bigoted, transphobic, ableist , MRA troglodytes,
The worst of their scum are the generals leading the charge from the courts and Youtube channels,
Polluting governmental positions on the discriminatory grounds of merited credentials,
Debunking "fact" after "fact" of our beloved ideology,
Do they really think my feelings are superseded by rationality,
It is imperative my children not to be deceived our greatest enemies come from within our own ranks,
So called "women" who strive to be their best denying any notion of a patriarchal state,
Just because they became successful doesn't mean all other womyn can be,
Your hard-earned accomplishments poison our minds with absurd notions of individuality,
They don't realize that womyn are oppressed everywhere,
Deemed worthless by society unless they're in the kitchen with a baby in tow,
Unable to walk outside without a male escort and deprived the right to vote,
Yes that may be in Saudi Arabia but we Western womyn are just as oppressed too,
Through the hashtag "yesallwomen" we can count ourselves among the downtrodden and render all naysayers moot,
Us feminists will not stand for this institutionalized patriarchy,
We demand the dismantling of this hateful misogynistic army,
To pave the way for our lord and savior Hillary Clinton.
Mine fervent aspiring political activism...
Gunning gusto, (while rosy axles grind)
for Bernie Sanders dagnabbit
nipped in figurative bud triggered zilch
prospects to germinate,
cultivate, and amalgamate
late blooming spore port as
schlocky, reedy, quirky, political neophyte,
whose aura, charisma, dogma
enigma, persona... absent gregarious masculinity.
Scant hours after posting Facebook message
Monday February 17, 2020
(regarding becoming linkedin
among Bernie Sanders's supporters
within Southeastern Montgomery Pennsylvania
hinting genuine motive (mine of course)
to join local grassroots bandwagon
electing catapulting aforementioned
Democratic candidate president,
into Oval Office
overwhelmingly elected
Tuesday November 3, 2020
an unexpectedly pleasant forthcoming response
(courtesy Jon Hall seven nine five eight at gmail)
informed yours truly transcendently, telepathically
inspired debate watch party
would be (accompanied when in full swing)
by most popular contra dance bands,
and eminently choreographed counting
topnotch cadres of policy wonks
upstairs at Molly Maguire's Irish Restaurant
(197 Bridge Street,
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania)19460
slated for Wednesday
March 19th, 2020 at 2000 hours military time.
Guess what dear readers...?
Yours truly, (an aging,
albeit eternally youthful
long haired pencil necked geek)
never experienced sought after fraternization
think ennobling rite of northwest passage
comprising electrifying informality
getting plugged into self-described
indomitable enthralling brouhaha
starring none other than
Democratic socialist and independent senator
from Green Mountain state
(by Samuel de Champlain in 1647)
Bernie Sanders exuding vim and vinegar
at age seventy eight
heartily hailing (no kidney ying)
who served in government since 1981.
I showed up at designated place
and specified time,
and got politely informed
courtesy young attractive hostess,
no such arousing, inspiring, spine tingling...
commingling of eager electorates slated,
thus overzealousness (mine)
bit the dust i.e. never got kickstarted.
Mine fervent aspiring political activism...
Gunning gusto, (while rosy axles grind)
for Bernie Sanders dagnabbit
nipped in figurative bud triggered zilch
prospects to germinate,
cultivate, and amalgamate
late blooming spore port as
schlocky, reedy, quirky, political neophyte,
whose aura, charisma, dogma
enigma, persona... absent gregarious masculinity.
Scant hours after posting Facebook message
Monday February 17, 2020
(regarding becoming linkedin
among Bernie Sanders's supporters
within Southeastern Montgomery Pennsylvania
hinting genuine motive (mine of course)
to join local grassroots bandwagon
electing catapulting aforementioned
Democratic candidate president,
into Oval Office
overwhelmingly elected
Tuesday November 3, 2020
an unexpectedly pleasant forthcoming response
(courtesy Jon Hall seven nine five eight at gmail)
informed yours truly transcendently, telepathically
inspired debate watch party
would be (accompanied when in full swing)
by most popular contra dance bands,
and eminently choreographed counting
topnotch cadres of policy wonks
upstairs at Molly Maguire's Irish Restaurant
(197 Bridge Street,
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania)19460
slated for Wednesday
March 19th, 2020 at 2000 hours military time.
Guess what dear readers...?
Yours truly, (an aging,
albeit eternally youthful
long haired pencil necked geek)
never experienced sought after fraternization
think ennobling rite of northwest passage
comprising electrifying informality
getting plugged into self-described
indomitable enthralling brouhaha
starring none other than
Democratic socialist and independent senator
from Green Mountain state
(by Samuel de Champlain in 1647)
Bernie Sanders exuding vim and vinegar
at age seventy eight
heartily hailing (no kidney ying)
who served in government since 1981.
I showed up at designated place
and specified time,
and got politely informed
courtesy young attractive hostess,
no such arousing, inspiring, spine tingling...
commingling of eager electorates slated,
thus overzealousness (mine)
bit the dust i.e. never got kickstarted.