Depressed Guy

He saw the needless suffering
And did his best to help

He heard of needless hunger
And gave all he could to assist

He knew of people needlessly neglected
In careers and at home
And he paid attention to them

But when he got home
After he had deposited his check
He was no longer needed

Men and Romance

(Idea taken from a conversation with Vonita over at Passion through Poetry. I hope she doesn’t mind – Owen)

And so we men, we dream of being heroes

For those we love, our very cherished few;

We have romantic dreams as well as women,

But these are dreams we’ll never

Admit to

My Recurring Lunacy

I have a wonderful family

Relatively good health

A great career

But, now, as has happened my whole life

A periodic insanity grips me

And I feel that

I would give everything up

If for just one day

I could be the type of man

Who women fall in love with

Just by looking at him





Which is never going to happen

Masculine and Yang

I never was much of a man
By standards of the day;
I don’t have six-pack abs
Or have too many. Anyway —

I can’t fix anything that breaks,
Although I sure can break it —
I’ve not the confidence that makes
A winner. Nor can fake it.

And when it’s time for battle
In the world of strength and sweat:
By guile, I’ll hang in there,
But the strength’s not happened yet.

And when the guys with muscles
Come by shirtless, I will know
That I barely exist
And never have
And ever so

I have competing virtues
So I won’t give up — I’ll try —
It’s hard to be a man, though
When you are my kind
Of guy

(Note – more the twenty-five year old me than the fifty-two year old me)



Testosterone starts killing us
Around, oh, age fourteen —
And never lets up from then on.
It’s usual routine

Is to drive us hard to court
The women of our dreams:
Impregnate them, then move along.
And empty as that seems

It’s even more so in real life.
But who comments or bothers
These guys who serve as donors
Rather than
Or fathers?