What Is Your Favorite "Manly" Poem?

PipesMagazine Approved Sponsor

.
.

Log in

Search on Site

PipesMagazine Approved Sponsor

.
.

Recent Posts

PipesMagazine Approved Sponsor

.
.

wulfheard

New member
Nov 18, 2018
48
35
New Jersey
Short but very manly....and it's called...

What is Best In Life?

"To crush your enemies
See them driven before you
And hear the lamentations of their women."

Arnold Schwarzenegger
Conan the Barbarian....1982 ūüėĀ
 

jpmcwjr

Preferred Member
May 12, 2015
14,391
2,047
Monterey Peninsula
Short but very manly....and it's called...

What is Best In Life?

"To crush your enemies
See them driven before you
And hear the lamentations of their women."

Arnold Schwarzenegger
Conan the Barbarian....1982 ūüėĀ
Heh. I submit that crossed the line from "manly" to barbaric. Sorry, can't find a better word for what's in the title!
 
Reactions: gamzultovah

sandollars

Senior Member
Jul 28, 2019
403
575
CA/UT
Or perhaps this gem? :ROFLMAO:

I am perfectly happy, with a stroll in Union Square,

or morning coffee in Brighton, in my favorite easy chair,

There are very few things better, than a dash of Christmas cheer,

or a friendly game of Blackjack, paired with a latticed meer,



I sure do like to sail the seas, with my favorite Salty Dogs,

or Mr. Heinrich’s Curly Block, rolled up into logs,

I do not fear a Firestorm, on a morning lunt,

and love to hear the Hal o the Wynd, on an evening hunt,



Enjoying a dram in Tilbury, is a pleasure all it’s own,

and when one has a Briar Fox, they are never truly alone,

there is plenty contemplation, in a Dark Flake without scent,

not to mention Happy Bogie, for the odd straightforward gent,



It’s hard to beat the aroma, of a Hunter’s Labrador,

and the misty morning Trout Stream, may leave one yearning for more,

The richness of a Crème Brulee, can put a man to sleep,

and if he dreams an Angler’s Dream, it’s one he’ll want to keep,



Pleasurable simplicity, can be found in Carter Hall,

and the inimitable Sir Walter, may be simplest of them all,

Let’s not forget the pointer, in it’s very large blue can,

and of course the old Prince Albert, the favorite of many a man,



But while all these things are lovely, and surely aim to please,

There is but one aroma, that turns my nose to the breeze,

a great and powerful flavor, that will not ever fail,

and supersedes all others, when paired with an evening’s ale,



Whether one needs a Nightcap, or an Early Morning Pipe,

or maybe just a Quiet Night, that lives up to the hype,

perhaps an Exotique experience, to get you through the day,

or often just a Shepherd’s Pie, a country squire might say,



Even with your head held high, to view the Star of the East,

one can find a perfect moment, an Odyssey at least,

Or walking near Westminster, on a foggy day,

with thoughts of rich Plum Pudding, guiding along the way,



Yes, the fields of Virginia, have much to offer indeed,

and the Oriental spices, can often take the lead,

The dark fires of Kentucky, I do appreciate,

and the parish of St. James, leaves little to debate,



The strong and simple Burley, satisfies no doubt,

and a sweet and rich aroma, cannot be left out,

the easygoing classic codger, has a lot to give as well,

and even a wild mixture, often has much to tell,



but when it comes to the ultimate blend, sure to satisfy,

the one that never disappoints, the apple of my eye,

I’ll always return without fail, to my best and greatest friend,

for there is nothing better in this world than the English/Balkan Blend.
I fuggin' love this poem! Well done AP!!! Oh, and I couldn't agree more.
 

Kilgore Trout

New member
Nov 5, 2019
36
118
One must be always drunk. Everything lies in that; it is the only question worth considering. In order not to feel the horrible burden of time which breaks your shoulders and bows you down to earth, you must intoxicate yourself without truce, but with what? With wine, poetry, or art? -- As you will; but intoxicate yourself.
And if sometimes upon the steps of a palace, or upon the green grass of a moat, or in the sad solitude of your own room, you awake, intoxication already diminished or disappeared, ask of the wind, of the wave, of the star, of the bird, of the clock, of all that flies, of all that groans, of all that rolls, of all that sings, of all that speaks, -- ask what time is it? And the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, will answer you, "It is time to intoxicate yourself." In order to escape from the slavish martyrdom of time, intoxicate yourself, unceasingly intoxicate yourself; -- with wine, or poetry, or art, which you will.

‚Äď Charles Baudelaire
 
Reactions: gamzultovah

Kilgore Trout

New member
Nov 5, 2019
36
118
“The Genius Of The Crowd"

There is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art‚ÄĚ

‚Äē Charles Bukowski
 

cosmicfolklore

Preferred Member
Aug 9, 2013
18,441
1,087
Plato Told

E.E. Cummings


plato told

him; he couldn't

believe it (jesus

told him; he

wouldn't believe

it) lao

tsze

certainly told

him, and general

(yes

mam)

Sherman;

and even

(believe it

or

not) you

told him: i told

him; we told him

(he didn't believe it, no

sir) it took

a nipponized bit of

the old sixth

avenue

el; in the top of his head to tell

him



One of my favorite poems from college.
 

alaskanpiper

Preferred Member
May 23, 2019
2,301
1,834
Alaska
“The Genius Of The Crowd"

There is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art‚ÄĚ

‚Äē Charles Bukowski
Great minds, etc. etc. :)
 

gamzultovah

Member
Aug 4, 2019
276
494
Well, he, Mon. Baudelaire, doesn't look too happy in this portrait. And he died at age 46, so what did he know of "...the horrible burden of time which breaks your shoulders and bows you down to earth..."?

Still, a fine quote.


This is what he died from.

Primary Progressive Aphasia (PPA) is a neurological syndrome in which language capabilities become slowly and progressively impaired. Unlike other forms of aphasia that result from stroke or brain injury, PPA is caused by neurodegenerative diseases, such as Alzheimer's Disease or Frontotemporal Lobar Degeneration.

I’d say he knew well...long time or short.
 
Reactions: jpmcwjr

Kilgore Trout

New member
Nov 5, 2019
36
118
Well, he, Mon. Baudelaire, doesn't look too happy in this portrait. And he died at age 46, so what did he know of "...the horrible burden of time which breaks your shoulders and bows you down to earth..."?

Still, a fine quote.


Well, everyone bears their own burden, but his included mental illness, attempted suicide, alcoholism, drug addiction, and depression.
 

Jef

Junior Member
Oct 10, 2019
72
92
62
North Carolina
What could possibly be more manly than this!!

I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea

He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shoppin'
And has buttered scones for tea.

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.

He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Mama.

He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!

What's this? Wants to be a girlie?! Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
SNL!!!