Little Remains of the Unexamined Man

One can not be their own father
if your father is stolen from your life
the pattern of masculine love
the comfort and security in an uncertain time
is lost
you can not fill this void with self help
you can not heal this with bravado,
fighting, cursing, drinking, sports, nor guns
Verbs can not take the place of the father
the steady hand when you are shaking
the enveloping warmth of a hug larger than yourself
when your self is so small and vulnerable
a single leaf trembling in the wind
you can not be your father
you can not replace your father
you will carry with you that absence
and either learn from it or die from it

I am now the man I am because of this void

I chased the stories of manhood
like Hemingway in the Savanna , like Melville out whaling
I sought it in the wilder places
like Vonnegut and Mailer and Heller I sought it in war
I found that these tests and lessons
do not make a man a man
they make a man tired, a braggart, humble and sly
or whatever a man can become
but they do not make him a man
that is innate and these were simply lessons
lessons that inform the conscious person of his natural capacity
a capacity for sin and venal acts
a capacity for charity and sacrifice
or a tendency to sullenly withdraw into a shell
like some ancient turtle of destiny
carrying the burden of all mankind's testes on his back

what a useless pursuit that would be

sex and fighting and career building and home ownership
hunting and fishing and war games
marathons and black belts
college degrees and really deadly fast cars
and impressive Japanese combat knives
will never make me a man
and they have not told one who the hell this man is
they are pretty damned cool things I guess
but ultimately they are nothing
but a shroud to place on the mantle
after the burial only the love and hate
the man has inspired will remain

Emptiness is Passing Away

I ran a brisk mile towards my end
burning a lot of time others left banked
They in their coats of ermine and velvetine gloves
I in pelts with decorus bones
These words are declarative
They are emphatic
They are gongs in an abandoned temple
far up on a windswept mountaintop
That is our life
our history
our fate
Look at us
foot steps deeply embedded in clay
worn by the most persistent of elements
but I am a song bird aloft beautiful and free
I risk the sky and predation
for freedom and the moment of being
The rest is traveling the standard inch an hour

What That We Do Not Know

There is a little country we have never heard of
where people have a history we are not aware of
with kings or czars or PMs we can not name
These unthought of places have unknown GDPs
and unspoken unemployment rates
they may have a level of literacy that would surprise us
there may be many orphaned children in the care of the elderly
We may read of the colors of their flag during the Olypics
and see their representative to the UN in a glancing news article
but the stories of the lives in the country we do not know
are buried in ignorance and remain pearls in dust before swine
we will never know the tradition of the harvest
nor how important a certain port is to pilgrims
the culture heroes extolled in poems are a null value
our lives will be forever unmarked
by the absence of what we did not know

What Dave Taught Me

I have a friend
whom I ride bicycles with
on occasion
At 4 AM
fourteen years ago
his life parter died
of AIDS related complications
My friend nursed this man
at home
himself until his death
My friend told me this
to commemorate the life
he had found in love
I promised to go home and treat my family lovingly
I came home and I was fatigued and hungry
and a bit of a horse's arse
but I recalled my promise
and I chilled out
and I passed out hugs
and I doled out affection
and I spent what time I could afford
and I argued as well
Love is perfect
but people are found wanting
All of this is joy
when faced with the specter of loss
or worse yet, negligence's remorse
I owe you one Dave
for making my evening more perfect

A New First For America

A new first
has been a long time coming
It is foolish to think
that race does not matter
in my great nation
Race is so important
as it defines the struggles, crimes
and eventual glorious triumphs
of this American story
I have said many a time
that we are slowly transforming
into a more perfect union
brothers and sisters
united and divided on honest
egalitarian intellectual grounds
where our differences are not querulous
nor trivial, but instead
our differences can form a tapestry
the picture of a nation of ideals
woven with conflict and striving and blood
woven with fear and dogs and tear gas
woven with pain and hatred and apathy
woven with sacrifice and sweat and love
woven by you and myself
woven from the dreams of men and women
lifting us up every time we falter
our resilience always saving us from disgrace