He had a way
to posit
a compliment
which was
mixed
with calclulation
and genuine admiration
with resentments detailed
in his own agony;
a mixture
which rose in me
my own flattery
and my kindness deposited
my own mixture
of bewilderment
and some sense
of his confusion.
He never faltered
away from those sentiments
and when alone
I could sense
his relief
not to have to feel
that admixture
that were his
confused hurts;
a boy yet longing
to be a man
being told that
he was a boy
yet being told he had to be a man;
a boy yet being told
and treated like a boy.
Seeking mentally
to discern
which is which for him
what age does he reach majority;
a man.
So much in this
that whole cultures
create cremonies
that entire societies
provide benchmarks
money, power, fame,
mark for him ways
to achieve what he's been told
is a man.
and yet
us boys
never can gauge when
exactly when
it's attained.
So much of history
we see
in war and strife
comes of this.
So much death
stems from this
until for many
only the death
of the father
releases them.
Decisions
He was so,
so annoyingly complicated
speaking in such atmospheric vagueness
unable to speak simply
and in plain language
wrapping himself in strange elocution
where meaning put itself into knots
drained of all context.
Some of my teachers
had this disease.
It was my one and only question
wanting to ask "why don't you speak
plainly,
what issue are you trying to elucidate? "
But he could only
say obliquely
I speak this way
trying to navigate the waters
between what I really think
and what I know they will allow
on my tenure committee
want me to think;
and by the time I get tenure
I no longer can remember what I really think
or how I really feel.
Some times it is I speaking
sometimes it is a blend I create
in my mind
sometimes it is stray ideas which fly through
and aware of this
I become angry with myself
at what I have allowed
sputter mentally
waver and whisper
alternately sounding confident
alternately only in whispers.
I, student had to decide which future
I desired
and dropped out.
One of my better decisions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem