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Arlen Mar 7
I don't want the kind of masculinity
That drives dads to hide their tears
That tells little boys it is wrong
To express their fears

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That says expressing emotions is wrong
I want to be the kind of man
That knows expressing emotions is strong

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That says there is only one kind of man
We can come in all shapes and sizes
Why is that so hard to understand?

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That pushes me aside
Even if I was born different then some others
I know who I am inside
Jeremy Betts Jan 22
You've lied TO me over and over, which is fine, I've been lied to before
I've watched my heart walk out the door as I picked my life up off the floor
Left wondering how many times I can get back up, finding it's always one more
That's how I move forward, I pay no mind to the score

This time you lied ABOUT me as you threw objects and punches, screaming like a banshee
I stood and absorbed it all, as I always have, asking how it is that you say you're afraid of me
I ask you to look me directly in the eyes and say it again one time, then two, then three
Then came the blow that hurt the worst
Looking past the crazy there was no fear, you were just angry

...now I'm scared for me...

©2024
As a man I don't even feel comfortable writing this much less posting it. Men are on the receiving side of abuse often and say nothing. The fear of being accused of domestic violence while being completely innocent and realizing she's willing to accuse you knowing you're innocent (and let's not forget that she's the one throwing objects and punches that land and leave marks while I've never raised a finger against her, not even to stop the assault on me) scares the hell out of me in all honesty...
Francis Jan 2
Men
What makes men manly?

Is it depth in tone,
Is it large in build,
A claim of the throne,
And dominance at will?

Or is it indulgence of temptation,
To be a sovereign of fear and pain,
Using women as *******,
Destruction sought to be obtained?

To reap the feral fruits of life,
To sow the damning consequences,
Causing mourning, loss and worldly strife,
Chaos of man’s expenses.

What causes me to seek it,
What causes me to weep,
How I lack these biological ticks,
That keeps the world apart from sleep.

So what if I’m not big and strong,
So what if I’m not masculine,
So what if I can’t be the cause,
Of humanity’s need of Aspirin?

Put me in a quiet room,
Let me stew and think,
I aim to be the greatest groom,
My life will cease in a blink.

Father, son, holy trinity,
A woman’s man is not for lust,
My love transcends to infinity,
But women’s approval is a must.

Color me short,
Finger me stout,
Characteristics I constantly sort,
What is this all about?

Who cares if I’m not mean and cruel,
Who cares that I’m not suave,
Who cares if I’m not chill and cool,
I’m him whom man should evolve.
I’m soft spoken, considerate, articulate and kind. I’m not a man’s man. I’m just me.
the heroes of
those action movies
from the 80s and 90s
always looked
so much cooler
with their split lips
and bloodied noses
than i ever could
as they faced off
against the villain
   of the piece
bruised and aching
they would struggle on
regardless of pain
their success set back
but inevitable nonetheless

to be honest
i would love to see
one of those heroes
try to overcome
the villain
   of my peace
i've had plenty
of nose bleeds
through the years
but most of them
self-inflected
Don Bouchard Feb 2022
Burns Creek
Climbing Chimney Rock.
Dad and David Scoville
In their mid 30s,
Two men out to prove
Their bravery,
Their derring-do.

Nervous,
My Mother,
My brother and I,
Five and six,
Necks craning,
Wait and watch;
Dad moves up and up
Clings to the top.

Inept and six,
I stand below,
Admiring my Father's
Fearlessness.

I am nearly blind,
The myopic, thick-lensed gawker,
Peering upward.

The men climb down,
Victorious,
The day’s challenges
Vanquished.

Heading home,
Choking dust.
Old land,
Deep ravines,
Rattle snake domain.

My father's old Ford
Bumps over red scoria,
Billows burning dust.

Ancient land,
Cindered clay,
Open grazing land,
Dry and hot.

Memories churn
From sixty years ago.
I S A A C Jan 2022
it is your birthday today, the first man to show me
there are layers to masculinity and femininity
and each layer you kissed
today I am led to reminisce
funnily enough, I still dream about you
you were the only healthy thing I ever liked
you were the only man who ever did me right
You washed me clean of my trauma and make me shine like pearls
I dreamt you met my momma and you kissed my curls
but you are happy now and I am too
maybe in the next life
I hope I can find someone like you
Leocardo Reis May 2021
Bruised knuckles
and
broken hearts,
with the smell
of *****
in the back of the car.
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