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KatawaGrey's avatar

Do you know any love poems about men?

Asked by KatawaGrey (21456points) February 14th, 2011

It’s Valentine’s Day and we are reading love poems in one of my classes. I would very much like to read some love poems about men, but there seems to be a dearth of them. Most of the love poems about people are about women. Can the collective point me in the direction of some love poems about men?

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19 Answers

bkcunningham's avatar

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise,
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints -I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Wild Nights! Wild Nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart!

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in Thee!

by Emily Dickinson

SmashTheState's avatar

Shakespeare wrote a number of sonnets which are believed to refer to a male lover:

A woman’s face with nature’s own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;
A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion:
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love’s use their treasure.

Islamic poet Abu Nuwas also wrote love poems about men, although it’s hard to find good English translations.

Cruiser's avatar

The First Kiss of Love

Lord Byron

Away with your fictions of flimsy romance,

Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove !

Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance,

Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love.

Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with phantasy glow,

Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove;

From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow,

Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love !

If Apollo should e’er his assistance refuse,

Or the Nine be disposed from your service to rove,

Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse,

And try the effect of the first kiss of love.

I hate you, ye cold compositions of art !

Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove,

I court the effusions that spring from the heart,

Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love.

Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes,

Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move:

Arcadia displays but a region of dreams;

What are visions like these to the first kiss of love ?

Oh ! cease to affirm that man, since his birth,

From Adam till now, has with wretchedness strove;

Some portion of paradise still is on earth,

And Eden revives in the first kiss of love.

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past—-

For years fleet away with the wings of the dove—-

The dearest remembrance will still be the last,

Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.

bkcunningham's avatar

Beautiful Black Men
(with compliments and apologies to all not mentioned by name)
Nikki Giovanni

i wanta say just gotta say something
bout those beautiful beautiful beautiful outasight
black men
with they afros
walking down the street
is the same ol danger
but a brand new pleasure

sitting on stoops, in bars, going to offices
running numbers, watching for their whores
preaching in churches, driving their hogs
walking their dogs, winking at me
in their fire red, lime green, burnt orange
royal blue tight tight pants that hug
what i like to hug

jerry butler, wilson pickett, the impressions
temptations, mighty mighty sly
don’t have to do anything but walk
on stage
and i scream and stamp and shout
see new breed men in breed alls
dashiki suits with shirts that match
the lining that compliments the ties
that smile at the sandals
where dirty toes peek at me
and i scream and stamp and shout
for more beautiful beautiful beautiful
black men with outasight afros

Blueroses's avatar

Some more good examples here

Response moderated (Unhelpful)
sliceswiththings's avatar

Young man, there’s no need to feel down.
I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground.
I said, young man, ‘cause you’re in a new town
There’s no need to be unhappy.

Young man, there’s a place you can go.
I said, young man, when you’re short on your dough.
You can stay there, and I’m sure you will find
Many ways to have a good time.


MyNewtBoobs's avatar

Are we counting Jesus, because then there’s a TON!

blueiiznh's avatar

If thou must love me, let it be for naught
Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
‘I love her for her smile -her look -her way
Of speaking gently -for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day’ –
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee, -and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry –
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love’s sake, that evermore
Thou may’st love on, through love’s eternity.

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

blueiiznh's avatar

To My Dear and Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me ye women if you can.
I prize thy love more then whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persevere,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

by Anne Bradstreet

Response moderated (Unhelpful)
Jeruba's avatar

The love poems I know of about men are mostly poems of hopeless love (except for EBB’s). Women never paid court to men in the way that men did to women, so I guess their amorous verses tended to be private.

lucillelucillelucille's avatar

If You But Knew
If you but knew How all my days seem filled with dreams of you,
How sometimes in the silent night
Your eyes thrill through me with their tender light,
How oft I hear your voice when others speak,
How you ‘mid other forms I seek -
Oh, love more real than though such dreams were true
If you but knew.

Could you but guess
How you alone make all my happiness,
How I am more than willing for your sake
To stand alone, give all and nothing take,
Nor chafe to think you bound while I am free,
Quite free, till death, to love you silently,
Could you but guess.

Could you but learn
How when you doubt my truth I sadly yearn
To tell you all, to stand for one brief space
Unfettered, soul to soul, as face to face,
To crown you king, my king, till life shall end,
My lover and likewise my truest friend,
Would you love me, dearest, as fondly in return,
Could you but learn?


Response moderated (Unhelpful)
Jeruba's avatar

Here’s one my husband sent to me. I love it!! And it can go either way.

Roses are #FF0000,
violets are #0000FF,
all my base
are belong to you.

(Stolen from Think Geek.)

MyNewtBoobs's avatar

@Jeruba Which is perfect for Katawa the Gamer.

lonelydragon's avatar

If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I’d wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,
I’d count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemens land.

If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I’d toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Emily Dickinson

Jeruba's avatar

There you have it: hopeless love.

Blueroses's avatar

@Jeruba I really love that poem. Geeks in love. Says more than the most precious of rhyme

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