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  Mar 2019 Tyrus
c
My father
Has been a Man
All his life
And I capitalize Man
Because his terms
Of masculinity
Include being
The Man

He doesn’t like the word
“No”
Unless it’s in his voice
And under his control

Control is his ego
I think
He likes a grip on everything
So tight it chokes us
And he wonders why
I’m slipping away
What is a Father?
Is he a Person?
A Thing?
Or a Feather?
What is his Life?
Is it Carefree and Spontaneous
Or Tormenting and Strife?

Who is he in which a Person could know?
What are his Abilities which only he could show?
Does he Work, for the sake of a Family?
Or sleeps and pigs around, being a Menace and Lazy?

Who could this man be, to the Eyes of Children,
A Hard Rock or a Soft Leaven?

Does he Pile over Everyone
And takes Control?

Is he the Eagle, the Head of the Nest,
Playing a very important Role?

Does he impersonate Father Christmas
With all his Treats and Gifts?

Is he a Lover, with a Strong Heart for *******
Hugging greatly and giving Love-Lifts?

Does he Pray,
Or Face-Religious?

Or a Braver,
Or Spontaneous?

Is he a Disciplinarian
Wherewithin all Members under him
Are tuned to his Command?

Or a Freester,
Who gives his Kids their darling Freedom
Without any Demand?

Does he care,
For the People and Loved Ones around him?

Is he Provocative,
Uncaring for Anyone behind his Dim?

Mostly, he is the Grass,
Herding the Future for his Offspring?

Or the Lamb,
Stubborn and very Unwilling?

And so, whatever he is,
Or does,
A Father is a Father,
Anonymous or Specific
I wouldn't mind.

Just as long as he has
HEART, STRENGTH, FREEDOM and PROSPERITY,
KINDNESS, BRAVE, PROTECTIVE
And RELIABILITY.

I'll be Glad and Content. As any Son should be.
  Feb 2019 Tyrus
edwill makamu
He the one who leap you up, from zero to the angel you are recently.
He the one who made you look not alike the image of this world,
You were born here but nothing describes your look.
He the one who made you look like electrons, you attract any living being,
near or far.
You are so alluring; your smile makes the world blind.
We all created of the same image, but you are a miracle,
a creature that never to touch the earth is absolutely a sin.
I swear you were supposed to be at the atmosphere,
Where people can only imagine of having you down but never to happen,
You never been an angel, meanwhile you are,
nevertheless, there’s no argument there.
He the one who provided you with the unique glance,
I’m not talking of Brazilian hair, extended eyelashes, painted eyebrows,
But I’m talking of a creature who’s amazing as fossils,
A creature who appears like you were made by of the peace of
The moon, the sun and the stars.
If I am to name all what he did to you, then it’ll take the clock to stop ticking,
So I can pitch all what he did to you that mold you to break the law unintentionally.
Well let me tell you because you don’t know,
You don’t know that you made me mad and you don’t know that you killed me emotionally.
But here I am right in front of you, trying to plant an oath
And I assure you, I’ll be your candle that barely smelt and be no more, just to give light.
And I’ll provide for you, so you don’t have to run around the world
Why?
I’m afraid you can lose all this,
But, but he provides for you everyday
He gives you light everyday
He protects you everyday
He conquers you, he gives you strength everyday
Even when you fault and fail him, he forgives you and multiply your integrity
For he knows your righteousness and your faithfulness right in you.
But me, me I’m only here making all this promises,
I’m only here trying to be someone I can’t even imitate
I’m only here trying to be someone I can never be.
I can never be you LORD.
  Feb 2019 Tyrus
Francie Lynch
There, I wrote it. Above.
I simply believe it needs to be in print... out there, so to speak,
And perhaps a few hundred may read, *******,
And, hysterically, or in solace,
Make use of it;
Openly, lingusly or fingeratively,
As we do *****, ******, and ******* (tsk-tsk).
Whether you agree or not, please yourself.
Inspired by a 3-D model being used to teach French children *** ed., and the horrors of FGM.
  Feb 2019 Tyrus
Joliver
If there was one word
One word, isolated by itself
That I cannot stand above all others
It would have to be "Okay"
I despise "Okay"
"Okay"
Is how your millionth day at work went
"Okay"
Is off-brand raisin bran
"Okay"
Is how you say life is going
When you don't want to admit you spend
Every second of it
Wanting to die

"Okay"
Is packed to the brim with
Hidden implications
Like a treasure chest
Filled with bottles
With little subliminal hatreds
Written on tiny slips of paper
Passively aggressively pushed inside
To discover later
As I pull out a treasure map
And try to decipher
Where I went wrong

"Okay"
Is a one word dismissal
That feels like an essay a thousand pages long
"Okay"
Is a poison dripping with disinterest
When I dared to share with you
Something I thought might make you smile
"Okay"
Is like trying to talk to a wall
While watching the paint on it dry
"Okay"
Takes two seconds to write
Yet I waited days
For that dreaded word
To grace my notifications
"Okay"
Should be used sparingly
As if each time you send it
You **** the receiver just a little bit
"Okay"
Should not be said so often that
I know what you're about to say
Like I saw it in a crystal ball
"Okay"
Is not looking up from your phone
When I tell you about my day
"Okay"
Is not the proper response
To "I love you"

They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred
It's indifference
And I can't think of a response
More indifferent to pouring out
My heart into your hands
Than "Okay"
At least the last thing you said to me
Before we parted ways
Showed that you cared
At least a little bit
"I hate you"
Stung less
Than the thousands of times
Over our countless conversations
You responded
"Okay"
Okay?
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