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User Rating: |
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7.8
/10
(191
votes)
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When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pauses,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.
One day they hold you in the
Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
They tighten up. Just a little. The
First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
Soft into your defenselessness. A little
More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
Smile that slides around the fear. When the
Air disappears,
Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
It is your juice
That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.
Then the window draws full upon
Your mind. There, just beyond
The sway of curtains, men walk.
Knowing something.
Going someplace.
But this time, I will simply
Stand and watch.
Maybe.
Maya Angelou
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Read poems about / on: girl, smile, fear, world, running
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Comments about this poem (Men
by
Maya Angelou
) |
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comments about this poem (Men by
Maya Angelou
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Natasha Phillips
(1/22/2010 3:55:00 PM) |
@ teri johnson...that's the wonderful thing about this fine art.... it lends itself to different interpretations. The meaning is all in the readers' mind; it is what U feel and hear when U read it.
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Virginia Hill
(12/20/2009 2:20:00 PM) |
i truely understand what she said in this poem men meet you and treat as if your there everything then get your prize then treat you as if your nothing the know the right ones to choose and u tell yourself ill never love again but it happens again and again if you let it here you are all alone and men are gone on about there business as if anything never happened didnt you feel it to or am i the only one with a heart
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Teri Jackson
(7/11/2009 5:54:00 AM) |
I love this poem. I feel that it discusses the tenderness and innocent of life before the introduction to fear. I can see how others could see sexual implications in this poem and I don't really see that-I see the introduction to fear in life and how to proceed with caution.
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William Rodenberg
(6/20/2009 11:41:00 AM) |
she presents the appereance that 'a girl' in fact was emotionally dismanteled from her sexual experience. in my opinion of this poem sexual developement overcame logical reasoning and the accusations of this poem indicate that 'men' aggresivley pressure naive virgins to engage in intercourse. Having read previous critics of the poem i come to the belief that the readers have been mislead from this writing therefore it has not been well founded to capture the feelings of others.
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Isam Hussain
(11/28/2008 9:28:00 AM) |
Oh how the perception of women for men undergoes transformation with maturity! A well-sculptured poem and exquixitely embroidered feelings. Please correct one mistake in the verse below:
Under my window, they would pause,
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marvin brato
(5/22/2008 11:22:00 PM) |
Vivid portrayal of a sensual exploration of sexual act that runs in the mind of most virgins; in reality that could become best experience or worst nightmare for some! Very sensuous... a 10.
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Ruth Ngungi
(11/21/2007 7:33:00 AM) |
This poem is great! Especially the 2nd verse where it all gets psychological and almost seems like its narrating a real sexual experience (differing with many people) which the mind kinda just understands. It may not have been ones experience in sex, but somehow i feel Maya and my mind grasps the emotions and feeling of it all. That whole stanza could be make up a chapter in a biography...its laden.. its luscious!
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Yoonoos Peerbocus
(6/12/2007 10:53:00 AM) |
body and mind are themselves best classroom
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Maya Angelou
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