Looks like the Pebble was acquainted with the Invisible Worm.
What Is Your Favorite "Manly" Poem?
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I always liked this one from Robert Creeley. Punctuation, etc is the author's.
I Know A Man
As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking,—John, I
sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what
can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,
drive, he sd, for
christ’s sake, look
out where yr going.
I Know A Man
As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking,—John, I
sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what
can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,
drive, he sd, for
christ’s sake, look
out where yr going.
Eldorado by Edgar Allan Poe.
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
. . .
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
. . .
Do You Fear the Wind? by Hamlin Garland
| DO you fear the force of the wind, | |
| The slash of the rain? | |
| Go face them and fight them, | |
| Be savage again. | |
| Go hungry and cold like the wolf, | |
| Go wade like the crane: | |
| The palms of your hands will thicken, | |
| The skin of your cheek will tan, | |
| You ’ll grow ragged and weary and swarthy, | |
| But you ’ll walk like a man! |
If there's anything less manly then talking about what is manly, I am not sure what it is. As I used to say when that stupid "Real men don't" stuff first came out, "Real men are confident, accept who they are, and don't give a rat's patoot what someone else thinks real men should do." (The same applies to real women,too.) puf
Hurt Hawks
I
The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,
No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.
He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.
He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble that head,
The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.
You do not know him, you communal people, or you have forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying, remember him.
II
I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk;
but the great redtail
Had nothing left but unable misery
From the bone too shattered for mending, the wing that trailed under his talons when he moved.
We had fed him six weeks, I gave him freedom,
He wandered over the foreland hill and returned in the evening, asking for death,
Not like a beggar, still eyed with the old
Implacable arrogance.
I gave him the lead gift in the twilight.
What fell was relaxed, Owl-downy, soft feminine feathers; but what
Soared: the fierce rush: the night-herons by the flooded river cried fear at its rising
Before it was quite unsheathed from reality.
Robinson Jeffers
I
The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,
No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.
He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.
He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble that head,
The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.
You do not know him, you communal people, or you have forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying, remember him.
II
I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk;
but the great redtail
Had nothing left but unable misery
From the bone too shattered for mending, the wing that trailed under his talons when he moved.
We had fed him six weeks, I gave him freedom,
He wandered over the foreland hill and returned in the evening, asking for death,
Not like a beggar, still eyed with the old
Implacable arrogance.
I gave him the lead gift in the twilight.
What fell was relaxed, Owl-downy, soft feminine feathers; but what
Soared: the fierce rush: the night-herons by the flooded river cried fear at its rising
Before it was quite unsheathed from reality.
Robinson Jeffers
A Study In Grey
Best hide your daughters, had a haircut today
No guarantees though with this stunning display
Masculine and suave
Cut such a swathe
Of charm and elegance, a study in grey!
~Jack Ellison
I was going to post that "Tie my pecker to a tree" poem by Cheech and Chong, but the Monty Python song would have overshadowed it. puf
Best hide your daughters, had a haircut today
No guarantees though with this stunning display
Masculine and suave
Cut such a swathe
Of charm and elegance, a study in grey!
~Jack Ellison
I was going to post that "Tie my pecker to a tree" poem by Cheech and Chong, but the Monty Python song would have overshadowed it. puf
Obviously an urban yankee response...Detroit...those of us that have worked on farms all their lives would probably differ; very few city folk could even attempt to do what we do every single day of our lives.
Nope, even in the heart of the Heart of Dixie, to hear some guy talking about "manliness" comes across as small or lacking confidence. A real man just does... a wannabe talks. Just my observation.
I dug the Bud Light "Real Men of Genius" campaign.
Trivia bit: The singer in the Real Men of Genius series was David Bickler, formerly of Survivor ("Eye OF The Tiger")
I was raised to be a modern ‘southern gentleman,’ meaning a cultured and educated person with a set core of values and ethics, at least that was what my mother intended. I think the notion of what a ‘real man’ is different with each person, should you ask. I don’t buy into the heavily romanticized version Hollywood spins out. That shit is a myth. I simply believe a real man is a self-reliant male who takes care of his family and makes the necessary sacrifices to do so. Just like I offered above, this just my opinion.
You mean, like this:
Yes. I'm in total agreement. I enjoy the work of poets, many of them men, but I find the idea of labeling my favorite poems "manly" off-putting
This betrays someone so lacking in character that it doesn't warrant further response.
Johann Sebastian Bach wrote a poem about his tobacco pipe in the 18th century. If I recall correctly he was writing about his clay pipe and comparing the impermanence of the pipe with his own impermanence. Maybe I'll find and post it.
If talking about manliness means dick measuring I'm against it. if, on the other hand, it's talk that reminds us men what and who we are, what our purpose is (hint: it's not to please ourselves, nor live for ourselves), and what values we are to pass on to our sons through word and deed I'm all for it: all the more so in this present age of endless noise, snowflake wimpiness, toxic Gillette commercials, and feminists in colleges telling male students that to 'man up' means to wipe women's asses and that to look them in the eye is 'violence'.
'When Theres a person ,there's a problem,when theres no person,there's no problem'' by Yosif Vissarionovich, manly enough poem or quote I'd think