I wrote this poem as a way to process my own masculine journey. There was a war inside me fighting for supremacy. A war between my inner child and the angry man I was becoming. I needed to give voice to this war in my head, and to the battle of what type of man I was going to be. The truest and kindest voice won, and this is my prayer for you. 

This Man I Call Me

By: Andrew J. Bauman

 

I am trying to figure out this man I call me.

There are two obvious choices the way I see.

Choice #1

I could let live this angry man who resides deep within my bones.

He spits and kicks, ridicules and mocks you fools,

Perched high upon his throne.

This Angry man has overcompensated for the pain in his life

Becoming the rage was the only way he could survive

He looks like he’s got this crazy life figured out,

Yet beneath his furious mask, he is filled with fear, anxiety and that little thing called self-doubt.

Safety holds him tight,

Not wanting to become like my father it seems as if this choice could be right.

I am trying to figure out this man I call me.

There are two obvious choices the way I see.

Choice # 2

I could embrace the tender child that dances within my skin

Release him to play, to dream, and imagine from within.

My child feels free to be sensitive and expressive,

To be gentle, and not repressive,

He sees great beauty, and has enormous hope,

My child runs in the rain, plays hide and seek, skips and jumps rope.

Mysteries and fairy tales are what keeps this child alive

To live from this choice seems foolish but the very thing I need to survive.

Intro to Dialogue:

I need to let these two choices talk things out.

It seems as long as these two co-exist within my soul

I need to figure what this dichotomy is all about.

Angry Man:

Little boy you must die, there is no room for you here,

You represent everything that is weak, and in the real world you can’t afford to care,

So go back into hiding, here I reign supreme,

Your silly games and laughter can die with your illogical dreams.

Little Boy:

Angry man, I dream because it’s the blood in our veins,

I laugh, play, and dance to keep us sane,

My expressions are not weakness just different type of might,

You are wrong to think that authentic manhood can only come through fight.

You see I fight like hell, just a type of different war,

I am battling for our heart, and for us to be something more.

Angry Man:

Dreams are for children and children don’t understand,

They don’t know the price or what it takes to be a real man.

So stand up straight, and look me in the eyes,

It’s your constant feminine ways I despise.

Stick your chest out you coward, and go lift more weights,

Get a hot woman and act more straight.

Little Boy:

I can’t. I can’t be like you and I can’t let anger be my guide,

I want to let my soul lead, I can no longer hide,

Being a man is about how you love and protect,

Not yell and disrespect,

It’s about being kind and strong,

About having the capacity to live deeply and the courage to suffer long.

You live out of the pains our past,

You becoming a child again is the only type of freedom that will last.

Angry Man:

Damn you, little kid, Damn your hopes and your dreams, damn your poetry, your fantasies.

I wish you’d strangle yourself on your jump rope, begin to play it safe instead of the talking with this ridiculous hope.

Go suck your thumb and grab your sippy cup, and on your way out the door, shut the Hell up.

Little Boy:

I love you angry man, and truth be said I know you love me too.

And once you let go of that insecure front, you’ll have the freedom to be the real you.

So try to be okay with me here, because I ain’t going anyway.

No matter how kind I am, or how much you get pissed. We are just going to have to learn to co-exist.

But I want to let you know that I will never give up on you angry man,

I will never stop trying to let our child have the upper hand.

I will persist to love and speak to you what is true,

For I see a strong man, who is playful, loving, responsible, imaginative in you.

I will hold your anger and rage,

And I will never stop offering you the keys to your cage.

I love you angry man.

I love you