The Miseducation Of The Man

A long time ago, and some time ago I was told to be a man you had to do certain things. But lately I have seen a contradiction from what my father has said to me… I call this the Miseducation of the Man See if you can keep up..

While I strive to become something beyond what my father ever imagined, I continue to try to build on whatever I already am. Because in my heart of hearts, I cant just be stanley, I struggle with the hopes of being remembered as a great man. With the honor that ones envy while keeping a humble soul that inspires love, with my father guidance, I want to be a man that the world can be proud of.

So curse real loud, and I sag my pants, following paths that dont always lead me to the future that benefits a soul……

And through the pressure of my peers I let go of my own beliefs and cave into what others think is the common norm

Why get a job, and strive to be something when one can slumber in the depths of his own failure. To be a man is to be different and the obvious goal is to just fit in.

I grew up in one of the roughest parts of Brooklyn and have shared the streets with men who have taken lives, getting the opportunity to dissect their thoughts.

And with their heart of hearts, the life they live is not the one they wanted when they were growing up, but the easy way out is not always the easy street that we see, but we cant face our fears and we dance on easy street, then when our love ones need us to stand we cant because our spines are meek, crubmling at the first pulsing pull of pressure.

I am a man, so I slide inside the velvety walls of your confines, stroking my way to my peak. This makes me a man and while you scream my name I take this intimacy as a victory

I am so big and strong and nothing matters at all so with a condom I entered who cares about reprecussions.

And when you approach me with that disturbed look in your eye, my shattered soul begins to cry because in the canal where my heart once laid I know you are with child.

But child you might be I cant face up to what I’ve done, but I can run because my fear is what I embrace.

I’m a man not from how I stand up to the pressure, but from the amount of baby mothers I can escape.

Fuck the son fuck the mothers and the daughters, Im no father Im no brother, I strive for the satisfaction of my own climax.

Make me a man be one of my own I cant stand for you alone because your growth will not benefit a thing for my soul.

But why do I do this………

I was born with the ability to facilitate life, with the strong shoulders so that my mother sister daughter, friend could shed her tears, but if I take on this role, the weight of the world may weaken me.

As a leader I stand alone, ready for chastise from all angels, To stand for my word is a pressure that folds me before I ever create a thought. The Idea of being a man is one that is more Convenient than the actual intent to live out what it means…..

I cant love another more than I can ever love me. The dedication, motivation and stamina it takes to help another soul, could destroy my personal joys as a heartbreak no matter how good is always inevitable.

I dont fear to be happy I fear the chances of complete failure, so to hide from what I am is the way that I can escape.

No father in my life, so why should I bother to love my child, through this tough world controversy is how we should all strive.

What I know…..

I cant define if I’m a man but my heart tells me what a man should be, I look at my father and he show’s me what a man is, than I look at those that I love and do everything to be the man they need me to be.

A man loves his friends and family giving them everything he can, Failure may be possible but through the toughest of times he’s unflappable.

But in the deepest heart of any man, fear is always the obstacle, for as I write this out to you, I fear it has not got to you, and I fret even more that I can not be the man that I ought to be…..

Without the chance of perfection I sometimes wallow in my imperfections but my passion for my life gives me the strength to continue my fight….. And through my fathers eyes I see a path and a future so bright.

A Man is In my Eyes

A man is the protector of all that is right, fear not what you cant do but fight for what is the truth

A man is the backbone of those who cant always stand for themselves… your battles mean nothing if you cant save another soul

A man is the outcast he at times stands alone with his words, but it is this audacity that establishes him as what he has to be

A man has the patience of a thousand lives, but the knowledge to react without a thought, A man is what you want it to be but in all he is honorable…..

My Thanks

I thank my father you have shown me the light and for my years alive I hope I can be what you are… Your strenght and your poise, your love and your pride has made me not afraid of others or even of my own light…..

And when I have a child I will raise him/her with pride I will raise my son into a man, or my daughter into a queen, My father didnt raise no fool he helped to build me….

And to the other Men in My life who have helped with this Blueprint… Darren we may not be blood but a second father Is what you are to me….

I strive to be something greater and these two men inspire me, I can never fail, because you two love me inspite of me…. so with your support I’ll call out to the others, I’ve done some good in my life but Now I need to save my brothers

To My brothers, black or white, spanish, asian, yellow, or green…. We need to stand and make a statement one the world has never seen.

Because of us this universe struggles we need to stand up to our test… The Miseducations of the man need to meet their final death.

And to those who love the life who keep this lifestyle and enjoy…. I cry my tears of hurt because yourself you will destroy….

But I can no longer sit back and hear the painful cries of this beaten world, I am a Man and I shall Stand with or without any other one by my side, and I pledge for my god and for the two men who have pushed me…. That I will give all that I have to push the Manhood Back Into The Man

The Puzzle of infatuation

Bubbling from the inside pushing its way up to the core, what factors control the substance in which self control dwells.

Through tainted eyes the vision can be skewed to a point of disbeleif but clearly staking the blink remains the same.

Heat strokes for thoughts pass through the burning flames of mental slavery, but are then doused with the idea of wrong doing.

but through every visual stroke of eye contact the feeling is fortified, sending waves of guilt through the membrame,

How can one blink for she, when just the other he blinked for her, but through the dialated trial of her, the tears never rained a drop of truth.

so as she enters the level of reality, all is krystal clear to the naked truth of ones feelings.

My Heart

On November 4^th 2008 at 11:25pm everyone was ecstatic celebrating like there was no tomorrow. For the first time in my 22 years and for the first time in this great country’s long history we have a black president. The campus was exploding in shouts of jubilation accomplishment, hugs, handshakes, and victory dances. While all of this went on I cried. It started off as subtle tears of happiness, but before long they transformed into soul shattering heart piercing sobs. I began to cry like never before and I could not stop.

This election meant way more to me than I could have ever known, but despite every scenario that ran through my head, I would have never expected to react the way that I did when it was announced that Obama had won. I have never been one to put all of my hope and faith into one person. In my heart of hearts I have always felt that we are the ones that dictate our own futures, and that we were the ones who should push and motivate our selves. But after years of doing it alone and feeding off of the motivation to rise up from where I came from, I found myself second guessing everything.

I started to look around and see all of my friends who had graduated from college but were working at H&M. I looked at my father who has worked since he was 11 years old, when he retired things were supposed to be different this was supposed to be his chance to enjoy life. Instead I am forced to watch my 60+ year old father walk out of his one bedroom basement apartment every night to go work his overnight shift. So while you have senior citizens who work to stay occupied, my father must work to survive. Despite all of his years of hard work, social security alone would not keep a roof over his head. I became numb to the sights and sounds of people my age in the same institution as I am, unable to write beyond the third grade level. I slowly began to make excuses and instead of seeing the solutions, I found it easier to pinpoint the problems. Life can be sobering when watching failure through the eyes of the ones you love the most. It hurts because you feel for your friends, and when reality hits and you understand that their fate can just as easily be yours, the idea that change is possible becomes a faint thought in the midst of your battle to survive. So when it was time to sit and do homework, I would stare at the paper trying to will words that would get me through another week of homework, but the only thing that would come out was the question that I had already tortured myself with for so long. “What for”? Why work so hard when I am more likely to be in the same position that I am in now if not worse. Why fight for student rights when it seems like no one else is willing to join in the fight, why try to educate people on their history, how can someone appreciate the past when they don’t even acknowledge their present.

I struggled with this for days, weeks and months, but no matter how hard I tried to hide this feeling of defeat it became harder and harder every day. So on November 4^th 2008 I stood at Suny Oldwestbury’s TV game room talking to a group of students preaching to them about a future that I was no longer sure of, hoping that through my words I could give them faith, and through their faith that my hope could be reborn, and just when it seemed like I was speaking in vain, the results came in, Barack Obama was the first African American President of the United States. So while everyone went crazy I stood there in shock, thinking about every moment where I felt nothing mattered, the hot mid- summer afternoons when I tried to take out a student loan to pay for summer classes but didn’t have good enough credit. Then I think about the day when my father told me I was living in a world of restrictions because I was a black man, and when I finally come to only about a second has passed, but it’s enough time for me to realize that nothing will ever be the same again.

The glass ceiling is broken, and hard work does pay off. You may not always inspire at the moment but as long as you plant the seed something will happen, and most of all if you never give up on the heart of people they will someday pay you back for your faith. I was ready to give up on my goals, I was one step away from falling into the same trap I worked so hard to avoid, and with the election of one man, I saw in that instant that everything is going to be ok. I don’t know when things will be ok, and I don’t know how it will happen, but god as my witness everything is going to be ok. So when that first tears slid down my cheek and I saw students of all class standings, backgrounds, races, religious beliefs and life motives hugging like they always knew each other. I knew there was hope for me and for everyone else in this world. So as long as I keep on fighting there will always be hope in this world. Obama won the election but in the process he along with every American man woman and child in this beautiful country gave me back something that I had been missing for a long time, my heart.