Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#masculine
His father told him, "Boys don't cry-- Why can't you do what real boys do, like playing football? Just get out of my sight"-- His father's last cruel statement left only delight... He left the house that wasn't a home, gazing at the sky And the rain softly whispered, "It takes a real man to cry"... The clouds parted company, leaving the radiant ones' smile 'Twas nought for his young legs to eagerly walk a short mile... And there she was, free of judgment and naked of pride The lightness of Being, swathed him with Love's tender kiss When in the arms of Mother Nature, nothing felt amiss... She welcomed him with her roving carpet of evergreen It was his secret place to cry, amid wild flowers, unseen... He asked the fairies for permission before picking buttercups The pulchritude his immortal soul beheld was nigh utterless... As he was offering cups of the sun to the father of the woods-- He caught a glimpse of her picking daisies Which she cheerfully offered unto the meadow stream Fifteen years later, they wed, neath the Rowan tree Transcendent of worldly desires ~ One with Thee...
0
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 6:28 PM UTC
Picking Buttercups
He moves through the world quietly, learning to carry weight on his own. Some doors were closed, some never existed, and some he couldn’t keep knocking on. Some moments slip through his hands, others arrive late, much later than he hoped. Shadows of him grow taller every year, making the room too dark to speak. No maps, no signals — just the road, and a tired choice to keep moving anyway.
0
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 2:05 AM UTC
Shadows Growing Taller
My psyche’s manor, candle-lit, snow-capped hills, gated in against a fire roaring in. The wise old woman waits and sits; she speaks of safety, preserving peace. Unconscious contents shake bronze gates, so seasons change beneath the skin. In a white, vast court where silence lives, I’m safe for now — but this I know: that my Unknown will come to Known. Before the spring, beneath my snow, the grass of Me begins to grow.
0
Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 11:30 AM UTC
Seasons Beneath the Skin
when emotion arises his brow wrinkles creating a dozen furrows across his forehead as waterworks in a gravitational pull fall to the left onto the eastern side of his face down his neck tendons, half-way over his left clavicle down into his heart he’s so that there his tears they flow and they flow and they flow and they flow ~ pekaplan, 2025
0
Jul 30, 2025
Jul 30, 2025 at 7:31 AM UTC
He's so that there
(a poem for the women left holding the dustpan) I remember when my children were small— eager hands reaching for the broom, begging to help. They’d trail behind me, half-heartedly sweeping, missing corners, scattering crumbs. But they wanted to try. So I let them. I’d guide their tiny hands, show them the rhythm, and still end up doing it myself. They’d get tired, bored— drop the broom mid-sweep and run off laughing while I stayed behind to clean it properly. That’s what this felt like with you. You insisted. “I want this. I can do this.” So I gave you the broom. I showed you the way. I slowed down, waited, offered my heart like a home. But the minute the work began, the minute the dust stirred, you handed it back— too heavy, too much, not fun anymore. And like a child, you disappeared into yourself, while I stood there— hands full of splinters, heart full of ache, sweeping up the pieces of everything you couldn’t carry. You wanted the broom. Until you didn’t. And now I’m here, again— cleaning the mess you made of me.
0
Jul 12, 2025
Jul 12, 2025 at 5:05 PM UTC
The Broom
Carl Jung in his tower conversing with Dragon and the Moon Goddess ☆ " There are two trees    that are one    and they are the    masculine    and the feminine .    They are creating a    new dimension    using alchemy ,    Temperance and    emotion . " ☆ Two pillars bring forth the unexpected . A new seeding of cycles and transformation . ☆ There will be two eclipse , first one solar , and next lunar . Then the warrior sweeps all before him . and the Goddess moves her hand across the Night .
0
Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 6:49 PM UTC
Carl Jung in his Tower
The sacrifices of boys and men Their own devices of joys and sin The costly prices of ploys to win The lonely crisis that destroys within
0
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 11:20 PM UTC
The Sacrifices of Boys and Men
The only cure for me Is your voice And I admire the Stunning Bottle It Comes In
0
Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 4:58 PM UTC
Bottle
No matter how many times I'm called beautiful or pretty, of gorgeous, or any other comment, I will always cry when I hear the name You try to call me adoringly... It is dead. I bury it here In the words. I write its tombstone.
0
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 10:52 AM UTC
Deadname
Oh, {deadname}, You're my beautiful daughter. I know you're only lying. You'll never, ever be a boy No matter how long you keep trying. Give up on transitioning. Your mind has been poisoned. The media has consumed you- All the lies eating their way in. Finally, you are my precious baby girl. You're very smart, and you know that. Don't think you're a boy- you're not. You should put on your smiling mask Until you're not sick anymore, -Your loving mother
0
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 10:19 AM UTC
A Letter
Have I done enough praying in my life, to have brought to fruition, this caring man that God sent my way? He cares for me and how I feel, he pulls my chair so I can sit. He holds me close on the dance floor, and beckons me to follow his masculine lead. He raises his drink and toasts to my honor, which makes me feel unbelievably special, like winning our own private lottery drawing. He puts me on his pedestal and holds me in the highest regard. But yet he still worries; will I always be, the same me he sees every day. Am I going to change who I’ve introduced him to? Is my love for him going to change? Are the words I pen from my heart, going to end up hurting our divine connection? I am here to stay for the long haul, I am not afraid to share my feelings. I dig this power that you emit my way. That slow drag you had in the beginning is still locked down inside my soul
0
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 2:36 PM UTC
The Gentleness Of My Man
The core of your emotionally charged vibration gives me shivers, then evens me out, like an illegal drug shocks the system. You calm me down like a deep ****** after an exhausting ********** primal event! I can’t say when, why, or the exact moment in time, when you entered into my solitary world. I can’t seem to let this go, the feeling of passion, the warmth of unity, the wholesome finality of not feeling alone. I don’t want to wake from my fragmented sleep, because I feel you deeper when my eyes are closed. I know it takes time and patience to hone in on what you feel. I’ve waited so long for this slow dance to happen, and I’m not about to give up now. You make me feel like a female dragon in ****** heat, expelling thunder like an old-time flashcube, dancing within my murky emotions. Brandy filled chocolate covered cherries; melt from the heat inside of me, Intoxicating the alcoholic burn on my tongue. You’ve become a distillery of thoughtful contentment, that slowly releases a flowing continuum of deliberate desires. I’ve had some ups and I’ve had some downs, when it comes to relationships and emotional intensities. The air around you have pierced my reality and rebuilt the broken chambers of my heart. Feelings have been set free, with re-deposits of evaporated pain; changing charged up devotions into kinetic realties. My Mister Devine you bring out my divinity, from the safety of your embrace to the finesse of your masculinity.
0
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 2:26 PM UTC
Mister Divine
Suspended in time Weightless and unworried We hang on to the moment Sedated magic unhurried His scent is captivating and wild Forever embedded in my brain Masculine and crisp A few hints of the earth after a rain Insecurities held at bay I live inside your sanctuary Your embrace keeps me safe My senses relaxed and unwary
0
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 2:15 PM UTC
Him
~~~~~~~ starts with a single drop and perfect silence this menstrual cycle that comes with collateral violence they will laugh and joke about your chastity then put a bounty on your virginity make a story out of your name then set the hounds on your trails blood will keep on running, until you can't keep on running until you become the very demon they've been wanting frightened by your femininity, yet aroused by its delicacy they'll put a cross to your face, only to laugh at your disgrace you can't lead, can never be like Christ yet you will imitate his suffering day and night they'll question your faith, try to burn you at the stake when the irony is the more one bleeds the more one prays ~~~~~~~
0
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 6:41 PM UTC
This Cycle of Blood
Let me begin to chip away, Piece by piece, The idealistic fantasy of The White Knight. It was never fair to you Nor I To expect saving And almost.. perfection. A story so often spoon fed to us all From young ages. Promised, almost. So young our minds cling to this projection of what "should" be. You men carry things We women could never fathom Until we open our hearts to see you, Truly see you, And graciously allow you To also be human.
0
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 10:21 PM UTC
The White Knight
Remember me The one you didn’t know you needed All woman, soft tender wet With curves that made you hard And drew forth your animal Remember my ocean Waters deep you dive into Liquid sweet to quench you Remember the fire That burned my resistance It burns still Remember The Phoenix woman rises Time and again She lifts you up For it is now your time To shine Slay those demons that pull you down Remove distractions and noise Allow the pressure to reveal facets of greatness you have yet to discover That I see so clearly Rise my beloved Rise Rumble with your terror, this beast of vulnerability, wrestle that bear to the ground And emerge victorious I will be here upon your return Nourished within myself, Empowered in my work and my life Ripe with readiness To feed your starving To nourish your weary To feast on mutual desire And remind you who you are
0
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 4:53 AM UTC
Remember me
The Faceless Man He walks the world without one, but could borrow any face. I could guess the colour of His skin but He doesn't belong to any race As soon as He's within your grasp He disappears without a trace And you can only sense His smile As He slips into your place.
0
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 4:47 AM UTC
Responsibility Poem #3
The mood Played a fiddle With the music of a violin I followed the same hips To the tune of feminine Then I mastered the gentle fiddling And the plucks of pizzicato Before the moon cried Her desperate eyes For the sound of a cello
0
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
Begging For Bass
For all my life I’ve been a woman obsessed With taking up as little space as possible To shrink my waist And sink my cheeks I’ve been a woman obsessed With being heard as little as possible To bite my tongue and not interrupt To keep the ******* curse words in I’ve been a woman obsessed With winning the hearts of others To see the twinkle in their eye when they smile at me But I am thick, and I am loud, and I forgot to love myself.
0
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
How do I rewire
there have been so many times i have seen a man wanting to weep but instead beat his heart until it was unconscious.
0
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 1:47 PM UTC
masculine
People walk all about Humming a soundless tune of self-doubt The drinks keep coming Steeped in endless fuming Friends joke around A truth sealed and bound Hiding behind a deadpan Sustaining the image of an American man ‘More!’, everyone shouts Raising their cups forgetting their spouse Sitting here with a straight face Wanting to forget my workplace
0
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
One Drink, One Man
Swinging rhythmically; bloated and unsteady, He nudges at the doorway of his desire, And descends into darkness, Carrying his heavy load of lust. Beyond the bottleneck, From where warmth and light beckon, He hears the trill of girlish laughter, The sound of sanctuary at play. Pausing briefly; head cocked to one side, He sighs with resignation, Deposits his craving clumsily, And withdraws deflated and defeated. Once again.
0
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 5:44 PM UTC
Venus Ascending