LEARNING TO WEEP; a poem
By Eric Diamond
Because so much depends on a walk around the lake,
I take the long trail that circles the green and muddy water.
Brown bees settle on tall field daisies.
Lush moss blankets a fallen elm.
Two deer startle in the brush and clamber up the hillside.
Distant voices muffle through the forest.
The air smells like bluegrass and butterflies.
To each and all, I say this:
You are not my son.
I RELEASE; a poem
By Paul Goldman
I release every single infinitesimal
ion of my being: my thoughts,
my emotions, my desires, and my beliefs,
everything at once.
In this glorious instant, my soul soars
to heights beyond imagining,
as I traverse the farthest reaches of
the Universe. I am nothing, I am
each quantum nano particulate
of matter sailing the electromagnetic
seas at the speed of light.
I release, I release, I release…
(c) Paul Goldman December 10, 2010 All Rights Reserved
It Happens
By Joseph DiCenso
“Where are you?” She sounds small and there’s an edge to her voice.
“I’m on my way.” I smile, thinking I recognize the impatience or entitlement in her whine. “If you look up the street you’ll see my headlights.” I try to make my smile audible to mask my mild annoyance: I said it would take me about 5 minutes!
I see her step to the curb and lean out, peering down the dark side street. “OK, I see you,” she says, her words clipped.
BEAT POETS, T’ANG DYNASTY; a poem
By Gabe Heilig
Damn! From the clouds’ soft cliffs
cold winds keep rising.
Li Po, you scribbling tramp, are you
still out there, tracking with me?
Send me a poem. Send it tonight.
Hell, send me a bridge!—
these snow-filled streams
are too swollen to cross.
Above us, squawking arrows
of geese point to no answer.
We earn only a poet’s wealth.
Our words and wallets never were lovers.
Das Boot
By Larry Russick
It was a long way for me to swim.
My father was very proud of his boat. He was a very proud man—any chance he got, he would tell a story to brag about his kids or show off any advantage he had, like his boat.
It wasn’t a new boat; he bought it used from a car dealer, who had it up on supports in the back of one of his showrooms in Fruitport.
Mission thru Fishin’
by Ivan ‘Z’ Newell
Ithaca, NY is a small city in Upstate New York that sits at the bottom of Cayuga Lake, the largest of a dozen or so of the “Finger Lakes”. Land-locked freshwater Salmon seem to thrive in Ithaca, and during high season travel back upstream to spawn until they hit Ithaca Falls and can go no further. This particular area is a favored fly fishing spot.
Daddy
By Kenny D’Cruz
I know your hands. I know the shape of your fingers and your finger nails. I know how I feel when you open your face and laugh. I know the way you raise your right eye brow and talk from the side of your face when you are joking.
How you hold your glasses when you laugh so much that you wipe your tears on the back of your hand. Your mischievous guilt when you let off a smelly windy one.
The Marriage Artist
By Peter Clothier, reprinted from the Huffington Post
One of the pleasures of writing and publishing online is the freedom it gives me to write about art and books and movies without the implicit obligations of the “critic” writing for the print media. In part it’s that old “thumbs up, thumbs down” mentality that signals “see this, don’t see that” or “read this, skip that” to its readers. In part, too, it’s the expectation of “objectivity” on the part of the reviewer, no more than a conspirational wink, really, since we all know that objectivity is a myth. For the most conscientious of critics, this would preclude writing about friends.
Tiny Boxes Prompt: A Reflection on Tony Porter’s Presentation at TEDWomen
Image: Filomena Scalise / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
The messages and beliefs that we take-in during the course of our lives can place us into unhealthy boxes that enforce ways of being that are destructive to ourselves and to others. Tony Porter, in his recent presentation at TEDWomen, “A Call to Men,” talked about his “man box” and called on parents to teach their sons:
I AM AN EARTHFOLK
by Francis X. Kroncke
To understand my claim and its message about masculinity and spirituality, some background about the 1970s anti-war trials of the “Minnesota 8″ draft board raiders is required.
“…five years in a federal penitentiary.” I was indicted on “sabotage of the national defense.” Convicted of a crime of violence, I remain a felon for destroying government property-the 1-A files of draftees. At trial it was decreed, “You gentlemen are worse than the average criminal who attacks the taxpayer’s pocketbook, you strike at the foundation of government itself!” After eight days of testimony by historians, theologians, ecologists, Vietnam veterans, anti-war activists, the jury was instructed, “Everything you have heard here for the last eight days is irrelevant and immaterial.”
Bridge of Sighs
by Michael Malone
Enveloped in cool shifting shadow under the forest’s dense canopy, I scan the metal walkway ahead, gauge its distance. I slip the brochure from my pocket and read: ninety meters. This is the longest of the suspension bridges in this rainforest reserve. My wife, teen daughters and I have detoured here for the afternoon, part of our whirlwind visit to the central highlands of Costa Rica. We’ve spent the past hours traipsing the moist pathways of this ancient forest, stopping often to marvel at some new natural wonder: a legion of parading ants, a butterfly’s fluttering cobalt-blue wings, the darkened hollows of some decayed tree trunk.
NEW in the MKP Journal – Member’s Section
the Behind the Door Section
Many of you asked for a section on the ManKind Project Journal to share internal discussions about the ManKind Project or discussions related to the nature of Men’s Work and Initiation.
**THE DOOR**
You asked for it. Here it is. We’ve created a way for you to Register on the MKP Journal and have access to a ‘Behind the Door’ section of the journal. The login information is not the same as your Community Administration Application (CAA) login information. Posts that are ‘Behind the Door’ are posted to their own category – outside the normal stream of stories on the page. When you click a story title from this category – you will be asked to login or register. Create the login of your choice, providing enough information so that we can verify your New Warrior Training Adventure.
To get started on your registration right now … GO HERE.
Lost your password? GO HERE and use the password reset.
A Lesson From Love Dogs: How Can Language Be Transformative?
REPRINTED WITH PERMISSION from This Energetic Man - by Scott Youmans.
People often ask me what I mean when I speak of transformative language and of the healing power of words, and many times I don’t have a good answer for them, or a good answer that fits within the elevator we’re in or the train one of us is rushing to catch. The examples I have–of my own experience and of others–aren’t yet sound-bite-able, so I’ll sometimes yammer on until we hit an uncomfortable silence or the train door closes.
W’s Return
The Story of How the Jericho Circle Project and the Mankind Project Supported One Man’s Journey Home
According to the mythologist Joseph Campbell, many ancient cultures had initiation ceremonies usually consisting of four stages: Separation, Descent, Ordeal and Return. The intention of these ceremonies was sacred; i.e to help the young person navigate the difficult internal and external transitions from child to adult and member of family to contributing member of community. This is the story of W’s initiation, one which had the four stages of a traditional initiation, but lacked a sacred intention. In other words, it was a flawed initiation, and in that respect, his is a story common to our modern world.
For My Progeny; a poem
by Brad Nixon
image by Brad Nixon
I am the wellspring from whence arises
the very essence of your being.
I am the foundation upon which
the house of your childhood is built.
I am the vessel in which
the soul of your youth has been leavened.
I am the fire upon which
the substance of your spirit has been rendered.
Considering a Language of Violence
REPRINTED WITH PERMISSION from This Energetic Man - by Scott Youmans.
Since the violence in Tucson, I’ve been thinking about the impact of my word choices and trying to be mindful of the subtle language of violence that creeps into the words I use every day. Perhaps you’ve noticed this too?
There are some phrases we say out loud that our U.S. society embraces, not as literal speech, but as impassioned hyperbole:
John Lennon on Fatherhood, Feminism, and Phony Tough Guy Posturing
By Jackson Katz – Originally printed in the Huffington Post
Three decades after his tragic death in New York City at age forty, John Lennon retains quite a grip on our cultural imagination. He has been the subject of countless biographies, magazine articles, and documentaries. In November, a BBC Masterpiece Theater special explored his final days with the Beatles; and the recently released independent film Nowhere Boy delved into his childhood and adolescence. His has been one of the most chronicled lives of our times.
Braveheart
by Eivind Figenschau Skjellum
Ah, Braveheart… I remember leaving the movie theater that evening in 1995. I was seventeen, clueless and inspired. Something stirred inside and I could tell my friends had been impacted as well. Yep, we loved it and for many years to come, when asked my favourite movie, Braveheart was my answer.
Leaving Neverland
Leaving Neverland (and the awesome collection of poetry I also received today)
by Eivind Figenschau Skjellum
Just got a new book delivery from my good friend Ann Kristin out in Australia (she’s who connected me with Uncle Bob). It’s called Finding Neverland – Why little boys shouldn’t run big corporations and is written by a bloke by the name of Daniel Prokop.
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