Shock and awe—Larsen Halleck is something of a poet when he’s not kicking ass and taking names.
I understand that new readers may find this surprising, but again, the whole reason that I refer to my website and my ideal of masculinity as “the barbaric gentleman” is that even muscular “hard men” should be well-rounded and do some things that are a bit “soft”. As I explained in my article on ballroom dancing, pretty much every order of aristocratic warrior elites throughout history did at least one peacetime activity that comes off as a bit fruity for a very good reason.
Atop the Cliffs is a website dedicated to “publishing poetry from the Dissident Right. Whether you are a Western Chauvinist, a Hoppean Libertarian, or an Identitarian we aim to cultivate a home for organically grown right leaning poetry. We stand for Beauty, Truth, and Justice, in art.”.
I am very much a supporter of this aim, because why should thick-necked lesbians and noodle-armed twig boys control the arts? As such, I have submitted a few poems to the website (with the potential for poetry readings to be done later), and so far one of them has been published—and wouldn’t you know it, it’s specifically about the concept of the masculine man as poet and artist.
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The Masculine Scribe by Larsen Halleck
When emotions stand to deluge and flood
And the Furies’ maelstrom enflames the blood
Man forgoes blade, plow, and libation imbibe
And puts pen to paper, for he is a scribe
The subjects are many, the reaches are vast
Hopes, lusts, and furors are drawn from the past
No order was given, no structures formal
His verse an outpour of his raw, natural soul
His hands are callused, and his thews are hard
His reality coarse, an unlikely bard
But his verse is stirring, meter no diatribe
His existence is shocking, a muscular scribe
His poetical peers are a contemptuous lot
Delicate sinews, and perversive in thought
These are the sophists the kings endorse
The death of men’s poetry a matter of course
But one man can wage an eternal fight
His defiance alone won’t end poetry’s plight
But the die is cast; arise, a new tribe
Reclaim the beauty of the masculine scribe!
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You can read the poem on Atop the Cliffs here and be sure to check out the many other fine works of verse on that site.