Francis Meyrick

Beating on the glass wall

I found myself
beating crazily
almost hysterically
on the glass wall
invisible but invincible
that our society
from birth
surrounds us with.

We are men
our role models abound:
John Wayne
Clint Eastwood
Donald Trump
Ken Lay
and all the other shining examples
of virtuous chivalry
stiff upper lip
brawn and guts,
and never,
ever,
show softness.
Tenderness
compassion
or hurt.

Only girls cry
men just bite their lip
suck it up
and plow on;
a good fist,
a strong biceps
and deadly accuracy with a Magnum 44
or a fat bank account
and you’re in good shape.

You might be fat and ugly
conceited and boring
old and vulgar
your name might be Hugh
but if you’re Heffner rich you can still be sexy.
The brain dead, peroxide blond bimbos will still swoon at your feet.

Such… rubbish.
Such unadulterated, cinematic, clap trapping
boon doggling, ga-ga absurdity.

I say
for what my little voice is worth
astride the dark horse of a violent past,
no stranger to lethal force
who can strip and re-assemble his weapon, blindfolded
in under forty seconds
that a man
is not a man
until he has truly wept
in sorrow.

A man is not a man
until he has tasted
the gentleness of the woman he loves
the trusting head of his first born resting, fast asleep on his chest
and the untimely death of his closest friends.

A man is not a man
until he is brave enough
to distance himself from our consumer society
our world gone rampantly materialistic,
not just in wealth
but also in thought, and spirit,
in Art and creative writing.

A man is not a man,
until he has looked the devil in the eye,
and not flinched.

A man is not a man
until he has forgiven not only his enemy
but himself.

Yes, they would surround us with a glass wall
list for us our goals
our values
our priorities.
hint at what can be discussed
and what cannot.
They expect us to conform, so we can be molded and controlled.

But I say spit on their glass walls.
Tear down their paper mansions.
Refuse to be a small cog in their money press
Shake off their clutching tentacles
Think for yourself …

And let your spirit roam free.

F.M.

Last edited by Francis Meyrick on December 28, 2008, 10:45 am