Long Transgender Poems

Long Transgender Poems. Below are the most popular long Transgender by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Transgender poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Sinning Saints Once More

When I was in seminary
my spiritual director advised me to notice,
as had he,
that there are two kinds of:

Clergy

Those who understand their calling
as to coldly forgive
and heatedly challenge
all bedeviled sinners

And those who feel called to mentor
gods and goddesses
and all transgender images in-between
to warmly engage
and repeatedly comfort
all divinely endowed
panentheistic
Holy Spirited saints.

Lay Leaders

Those who live for a vacation
from telling Others why they must not do
whatever trauma-afflicted compulsion
we might feel addictively drawn toward

And those whose felt sacred vocation
is to communicate compassionately with Others
to therapeutically understand
what we would most love to be
and become
co-invested in ego-health
and ecosystemic-wealth
re-associatively together

Unconditionally regarding
both categories of Clergy
and Ego/EcoTherapeutic Lay Leaders
and All PolyCultural EarthTribal Creatures,
verbally dominant
and nonverbally 
co-passionately prominent

Comforting the nonverbally afflicted
more than verbally afflicting
the too win/lose oppressed
survivalist
StraightWhiteCorporateMale
Business As Usual
RightWing Evangelical 
anti-ecofeminist gospel truth
is Holy Spirit anathema
comfortable
with cognitive/affective chronic 
bicameral dissonance

About having been raised in a seminary
with two kinds of Clergy.


Premium Member The ballad of Kathy Hochul

Kathy Hochul took the reins,
Governor of the Empire State,
Promised fairness, promised change,
But for hope, you have to wait.

(chorus)
Kathy Hochul, you may get the vote,
But NY can't sail if you sink the boat.
You tell us it's patriotic that we should pay,
But taxes and crime drive the base away.

She started a fund for minorities
The drug war hurt them a lot
So now we'd have cannabis equity
funds to help them sell pot.

Pronouns changed in college dorms,
Nonbinary identity got a name,
An "X" upon official forms,
If you're not a man, and not a dame.

A fund for transgender types
You might wonder what's the need:
You might develop gripes
When you see the budget bleed.

Jobs for migrants, sanctuary laws,
No vetting at the gate,
But Republicans shouldn't stay
Their values don't match the state

Cash bail had to disappear,
That's what justice requires,
Critics warned of streets of fear,
But she threw gas on the fire.

(bridge)
A cop was killed by a repeat offender,
His family dressed in black,
Policemen booed her at the wake
She didn't have their back

"Incarcerated individuals,"
The new phrase was decreed,
Two short syllables became ten,
For a progressive creed.

Health care should be 'single payer.'
Voters should not need ID.
Demanding this was a burden
For an unschooled minority..

We have labels, funds, forms, and tax
But deeper troubles grow,
And every year more neighbors ask
If it's time for them to go.

You could be minority, you could hate ICE.
You could vape, your gender could be "X"
At the end of the day, do you thrive?
Ask Kathy Hochul for a government cheque.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Banned Book Club V

If our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours— Radclyffe Hall

Explore themes of love and identity
Of Stephen Gordon’s innate sense of masculinity
Since a child, her desire,  ‘women’
The idea that if love is considered a sin 
The unfolding of a female sexual invert
The act of loving must be a tender selfless act, revert? 
Love itself is not inherently sinful or
complexities of love, we shan’t ignore 
But rather the circumstances surrounding it
Misfits from Malvern to London and then to Paris!
Ira furor brevis, the frailty, taboo and strife
Fellow q***r characters, all walks of life
From the *sapphic salon hostess Valérie Seymour
To the 'miserable army' and more
of outcasts that frequents the 'merciless
Drug-dealing, death-dealing' bars of Montmartre
Written in another time, still support and solidarity to
generations of LGBTQ genre 

*Sapphic is an umbrella term for same-gender loving women or woman-aligned people, including lesbians and bisexual+ women. It is used to describe topics, activities, and ideas related to same-sex attraction among women. The term can also refer to the Greek lyric poet Sappho.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

To Build a Better Human

To build a better human use a robot
Genetics are overrated and outdated
Androids make the perfect man
With nuts and bolts who needs a soul

Love your machines
They come with metallic hands
With instructions to construct
Transgender bathrooms built to last

Humans make great pets
When inoculated they are the best
Venereal diseases are a breeze 
Hmm.... Are they really needed?

Bots speak bot languages
Abstract thoughts are optional
Don't need visas to get about
Robots work non stop for free

No clocks to punch or dirty thoughts
Void of affection and infections
They follow the instructions of God's plan
To build a better man
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Walking the Straight-And-Narrow

5.0 grade-point on a 4.0 scale
    Climbed Mt. Everest, the 'icy trail'
  His summer job was 'Director of Sales'
    This straight male applied early to Yale

  Puerto Rican knockout with Eskimo mother
    Non-binary female and transgender lover
  Active in flash mobs, landed three months in jail
    Now back on the streets, thanks to 'No Cash Bail'

  Our 'Yalie' got rejected, 'Why' is the question  
    Since our flash-mobber got into Harvard
  An accomplished bank-robber, else she'd have starved
    While our erstwhile 'Yalie' cleaned rooms at the Westin

  All's well that ends well, my folks always say
    'Yalie's' gender-confused now ~ I think that I shall pray
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Goethe and Me

I find myself agreeing a lot with Goethe lately…
yes, I think it would be fair 
to say I spend as much time on top of the world…
as I do floundering in the depths of despair.

On top of the world at our granddaughter’s 16th birthday party
on the beach with family and friends by her side…
In the depths of despair when I realized 
Ann Frank was the same age when she died.

On top of the world knowing my family is safe, secure, happy
and, for the most part, free from oppression and pain…
In the depths of despair when my mind turns to the women of Iraq…and to the people suffering in Ukraine.

On top of the world as I walk my streets in the morning
unafraid…feeling invigorated and free….
In the depths of despair knowing these same streets
aren’t as safe or as free for someone who looks different than me.

On top of the world when I wake up thinking life is wonderful
looking forward to another new day…
In the depths of despair knowing I might not feel the same
If I was a person of color…
a woman…
transgender…
or gay.

On top of the world knowing the framers of our constitution
wrote how we all have these unalienable rights:
to the enjoyment of life
to pursuit of happiness….
to something called liberty
In the depths of despair knowing those same framers and many people today can’t agree on who should be…
or exactly what it means to be free.

These are but a few examples of how one moment I’m on top of the world…living a wonder life…seemingly without a care…
and the next moment when I look around
I find myself in the depths of despair.

It’s here, once again, I turn to Goethe for the hope I so desperately need to keep my outlook improving….
he said: the greatest thing in the world is not so much where we stand…
but in what direction we happen to be moving.

So every day I hope and I pray the world will right itself…
that people will be loving, compassionate and fair…
that no human…at the hands of another human 
will flounder in the depths of despair.

That there will come a morning 
when everyone in the world wakes up
whatever nations flag is unfurled…
and finds themselves
safe
equal
and free
and can join me…
on top of the world.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Truth, the passion and the Poet

The truth, the passion, and the Poet

Ridin' high, the truth is told, passions and poet collide,
Igniting the shadows with fire and light!
My heart is open, free to decide,
I break to the open and soar with the bold!

Passions collide with the woman I know,
The fire is rising, I let it ride,
No longer walking with stories untold!
I've crossed the wild and rocky range!

The fire is lit and I let it glow!
My heart is free and it feels so strange,
Untied from the stories of my former age!
Passions collide as the high winds blow!
Feeling the heat as my fires rage!

On top of the world I fly,
With every heartbeat I feel the pride,
Kissing the past a sweet goodbye,
The truth, the passion, the poet and I!

— Debra
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Great Again

My name is Joe Biden and I…

Made The Taliban Great Again
Made War Great Again
Made Taxes Great Again
Made DEI & CRT Great Again
Made Lawfare Great Again
Made Crime Great Again
Made Illegals Great Again
Made Inflation Great Again
Made Debt Great Again
Made Censorship Great Again
Made Transgender Great Again
Made Mandates Great Again
Made Fauci Great Again
Made Elites Great Again
Made Hypocrisy Great Again
Made Dementia Great Again
Made Hoaxes Great Again
Made Babbling Great Again
Made Lying Great Again
Made Conspiracies Great Again
Made Teleprompters Great Again
Made Corruption Great Again
Made Falling Great Again
Made China Great Again
Made BLM Great Again
Made Putin Great Again
Made Gaslighting Great Again
Made Voter Fraud Great Again
Made Hamas Great Again
Made Racism Great Again
Made Hate Great Again
Made Woke Great Again
Make Debates Great Again
Made Anti-Semitism Great Again

But best of all…

Made TRUMP Great Again!

Premium Member WHY EACH VOTE COUNTED


The parents whose 12-year-old son was just laid to rest
From spraying bullets exploding in his young body’s chest

The father whose daughter was tortured and raped
By monsters initiating in a criminal gang
She will never see her fourteenth birthday

The shopkeeper, who after taxes is barely making his life’s wage
And totally depends on the paltry money his hard work can make

The mother of five beautiful children who went out
For a routine run on a beautiful sunny day, 
But will never return to their waiting arms;
All their lives shattered in a heinous and brutal way.

The military veteran who lost his legs, as he served us all in a made-up war
Now sleeps on the concrete in a filthy corner of San Francisco Bay

The innocent 2nd grader, a tiny blonde blue-eyed girl, 
Is left confused and unsure
When her trusted teacher says she’s a racist
Who has destroyed the world

The toddler sitting on his mother’s lap who looks on in dismay
As a mustached man, dressed as a woman in exaggerated makeup
Gyrates and sings vulgar songs just inches from his unprotected face

The girls soccer team whose teammate lost half of her face
Refuses to compete with transgender men whose genitals are now misplaced

The Texas rancher whose family must clean up behind
The millions of crossings in a continuous unending line
Of criminal invaders whose tons of trash and broken bodies are scattered
Among his unproductive fields and livestock in rotting tatters

The aching backs of hard-working taxpayers whose treasure
Has been looted and their protesting voices silenced;
For four years they had no say where their money goes.
It’s now enriching Iran, Ukraine and who else, nobody knows.

Nearly a half million young children lost their innocence, 
And many their lives, sold into slavery in factories
And as sexual slaves; Grievous Evil modeling the Chinese way

Nearly 80 million Americans, sick to death of insanity, evil and deceit
All rose together to fight the rancid leftist coastal elites.

Together extinguishing the rule of disloyal leaders, fascists, racists, 
Their eyes shining with hope that there can now be an end.
Each one’s voice and vote counted this time as they shouted,
 “President Donald J Trump will fix it and make America great again!”

Cut of my cock

They accuse me of cutting of my cock 
Just to wear a frock 
And hang about in bogs 
When all I want 
Is the peace to piss 
Or to piss in peace 

Just another of their 
Disgusting spiels 
Designed to turn me extreme 
But hate is there language 
Not mine I just rhyme 

Im happy it’s gone 
My meaty schlong 
It just hung there all flaccid 
It was always so wrong 

But it never once said 
Get this straight in your head 
That off I should go 
On the chance  
A women to catch 
In the stench of the lavs 

I mean 
Who’s idea was that 
What warped mind 
Full of hate could create 
Such absurdist disgrace 

Or maybe they reveal 
A piece of them selves 
All twisted and dark 
So self loathing and reviled 
Then push it out on the world 
Rather than live with their shame 

So as billionaires burn the world to the ground 
And presidents and princes 
Abuse kids with no charges
Of course they want you focused on me 
Cos I’m the real threat 
Cos I cut of my cock

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace