.
well
i were think'n
if'n
a night
this future
'fore hern
snore
mine speak
tickle'd hern panty's
') gone
well
i'd be ready
120" dual side
metric ready
from hood
to lick
i meant
cl!t
wait
i really meant
hood tuh
st'itch
yess i did
well
'twuz dual sided
.
well
from top
monz
unto
hood
'tiz
well
'tiz
'tiz
dang
closed at the
hour
MANHOOD V WOMANHOOD
I use my favourite chat-up line as I join her at the bar,
”What’s a girl like you doing without a man like me?”
She raises her eyes disdainfully, “That’s the worst I’ve heard by far.”
And when I think about it, I really have to agree.
Next, she questions my manhood. I tell her, “My eyes are up here.”
“I see your eyes,” she counters. But where do you keep your brain?”
By now the alarm bells are ringing; She’s outwitting me I fear.
So I’ll think of another chat-up line and come back in again
My bears' beard came in when I turned eighteen.
I dipped my audacity in manhood
and it spit me out like sugarless tea.
The trenches near sent me back to curfews.
A man must talk and bear his own garbage:
He runs, He dies, and breaks his spine for pay
that’s bare. He does not shed tears to carnage,
He wars gracefully- like Frank to the Sway.
I never was taught to war silently
like shirts that know the wrath of a pen leak;
to walk giant and to laugh defiantly
at the loud drums and dances of deadbeats.
But I swear by my face to the beehive
I am – by my way- a man come alive!
Four Things
Four things in any land must dwell,
If it endures and prospers well:
One is manhood true and good;
One is noble womanhood;
One is child life, clean and bright;
And one an altar kept alight.
I’m a man who knows nothing of manhood,
Never taught initiative and action to wield.
Ducked away from my call, chose inaction’s shield
I wish to be that man, I know I could.
I’m a man who knows nothing of manhood,
Never taught to strive to be the best.
Accepted mediocrity, letting go of the quest,
I wish to be that man, I know I should.
I’m a man who knows nothing of manhood,
Never taught to respect my desires and needs.
Told to beg for wants, as my worth recedes,
I yearn to be that man, I know I would.
I’m a man who knows nothing of manhood,
Never taught to give love to others’ hearts.
Believed love was limited, torn apart,
I beg to be that man, one never misunderstood.
I’m a man who knows nothing of manhood,
I know not more than most boys.
Focused on grades, girls, and fleeting joys,
Can I be that man? Is there even a likelihood?
Every waking moment, I ponder,
In the dawn of adulthood, my soul is urged.
To look at me and ask,
Am I that man, who emerged?
As time flows as it should,
My wisdom grows long,
I strive to be the man I could,
I can change. That is good.
Saying it, it is mouthful
Coming together of things
That were meant to come together
It is a miracle
Is this a destination or a beginning
Both, yes it is
Open your eyes
Happiness starts within
And ends with the one you love
Experience is obtained through struggles
And the formation of strength
Wisdom starts with experience
And the utilisation of knowledge
Self care is developed by respecting yourself
And the acceptance of your flaws
Love starts with feelings
And ends with lots of kisses
Sleeping on it, it is a waste of time
The sequence of events
Lead me to believe
The originality
Is it
Yes, that is right
Your eyes have seen it
Does not manhood kill the boy,
each falling leaf a tree destroy
or shall the substance of past things
return to us though memory brings
but shadows' forms unless confirmed,
cast anew and reaffirmed
by us at present living?
Tell me
I'm not a man.
Up against this
charred forest,
compelled along
its path.
Handed these levers,
these weights, these
high-stakes appraisals.
Delivered this beaten,
broken mired work,
these floundering hopes.
Living with my chiseled
consequences
and
fast turn-around
confrontations.
Captured in someone's climate
of conquest.
Clad in this breathless
armor of control,
a frenzy of packaged
identity
like someone's remedies
for whom I am.
Tell me
I'm not a man
along this tree-lined
midnight.
Lift this metal suit
that I may find my
way back.
They tell us from birth
To be strong and responsible
To be men
To be productive
So we bury our feelings under our shields
We are renamed ‘cold or jerk‘ when we show our human weakness
They said our hearts are stones upon which only moss of bitterness are sown. So all the fighting, all the harming, are deeds intrinsic of us.
They said that Adam’s curse of tailing the soil was solely for us
So we grew up acting like machines, but deep within a lot of us are broken by these conventions
Questions!?!
Have I not been good enough…!?! What else must I do!?!
What else possibly can I do to show you that I’m true?
Have I not paid the rent and mastered the utility bills?
Have I not furnished the house, and even added frills?
Haven’t I taken care of the children’s school supplies?
Provided food, clothing and shelter – and told you no lies?
Have I not been steadfast, and persisted for better or worse?
Have I not looked out for you and yours and didn’t once curse?
Have I not assisted with the chores: washing, cooking or cleaning?
Have I not frequently showed you appreciation with meaning?
Have I not comforted, listened, encouraged and shown love daily?
Have I not made wise decisions and guided the family wholly?
Have I not been true to my words through evidence by actions?
Have I not been trustworthy in all relations and transactions?
If your answer is YES, why all this stress; why, no rest?
Tell me, how can I possibly do better than my absolute best?
End
By: Dion O. Penville
To be a man in a world of false men
And keep honor as a good Sherpa guide
To not lose dignity in the lion's den
And stay ever humble before such pride
To know that character, is coin of the realm
And duty to cause is the cloth we wear
As we steer our hearts with truth at the helm
Protect the lives of those in need of care
To be a child in the world of children
And teach wisdom learned without demanding
Accept those in need as they wander in
And claim no reason beyond understanding
To give up childish things, to have foresight
Truth, honor, character should be your quest
Know worlds further than your line of sight
To become a man before one's death
contest Animus-Anima Part II-Animus
5/30/16
Victimizing's sound of lewd
I hear the name of vile intrude,
as violence, while the man is hood
and faith's assumption, lost construed.
The necessary loss of feud
by self agreement, merely mood,
the cause of struggle be renewed
by mankind's offer, listening proves!
It is agreement that needs groove
of thoughts respecting others brood.
A clearness of intention's false
will harbor trust to bear resolve!
So strength is portion of default
mistakes so honored, learned assault
would break not entry, trying's vault ~
I own myself, to so exalt!
A trail of vestige, as not cost
this saving remnant of my care
is building harmony ne'er lost
with better ways, as mankind . . . share!
The truck he drives
His sexual tool
What makes a man a man?
Cant deny my nature right?
Cant stop doing wrong if it feels right!
I mean, who could.… at such a sight?
Sip some class, and ignore ethics’ bite,
At my sternum, behind my skin, and outta sight.
We seat our glasses beside the bed,
Its name isn’t confidence, that beautiful red.
She lies back in crumpled heaven,
Looking at me, after all that I said,
With a whirlpool of lust,
in her eyes.
I place one arm beside her head,
And crawl, like a tiger, up the bed.
Now I feel the bite stronger than ever,
and I retreat, my heart in constant plea,
Half the man I used to be.
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