Friday, 28 July 2017

Something

Though thought itself’s dependent on a man,
Some may discount him, see a grander plan.


Hard to conceive, but once the Cosmos sighed,
As imbecilic darkness did bestride
The welkin. Plain unseen, unknown was space,
Insentience, stupor; both were commonplace.
Then Non-Sense reigned and No-Thing ruled until
A Some-Thing was conceived - arranged to fill
The void that yawned. That thing was observation,
And pleasure taken – comment - delectation.
To suit this task were humans dreamt but first
They must subsist. For dying out would burst
Hope’s bubble for their prolongation. Hence,
To guarantee the benefit that sense
Could live, a means to reproduce was found
Whose sexual nature was selected - bound
It would succeed as it depended on
Attraction - male to female. Whereupon
X chromosomes and Y were then decreed
(although for a decreer there is no need,
Of course!). Each man in every cell had Ys,
In toes, in brain, in heart and also thighs!
Each woman differed in that she had Xs -
This was the way that they defined the sexes.
To start the chain of life, ignite the fire,
The use of man as vehicle was required.
As there’s not Nothing - Something does prevail -
That something was a seed inside the male.
Some feel a man’s demeaned if he’s just means
To ends and that with such a role he leans
Towards a functional career. But in
A being, where disagreement can’t begin
Without existence, making man the cause
Of that - as human seed - might earn applause;
He might be raised more rather than debased.
The siring role subtracted and displaced
Emasculates a man with no man left,
His person void of maleness when bereft.
We can’t conceive a sapiens outside
The sexual river. Dehumidified
And perched on banks - a thought that may perplex
Those thinking that the element of sex
Is natural to us - where we gladly swim.
To say a ‘man’ involves and gives to him
The name of father like the name of Tom
In cats. Some will, for sure, demur, though, from
Comparison with animals, too high
Believing humankind, where some decry
Whatever hints of personal transmission
Through animality. The liked position,
A preference that we express ourselves
Above our nature. Love itself dissolves,
Though, when without its nourishing substrate -
That layer - sexual spell, the wish to mate,
Engendering female to male love and love
Of progeny, then family, above
Which we don’t wish to be. The day a Y
Is given we’re defined - we can’t defy
This fate; just cells, we’re sadly unconsulted -
Resentment vain regarding what resulted.
To put on airs and play at God, insist
That we will choose might give “determinist”
New meaning; hubris flattering us first causers -
Expression of the biting pique that gnaws us.
Modern minds blink at procreation’s fact,
Promoting tamely other styles now backed
By fashion as supreme, forgetting none
Are here to kvetch but those who were begun
In Nature’s way. And existentialists
May quibble (though they had an obstetrix)
Asserting man’s an empty slate without
An essence scratched upon it - in no doubt
That we create ourselves for they know best.
Despite what they contend, it’s manifest
A man, or woman too, are what they are.
No ciggy paper’s thin enough to run
Between a man and maleness. They are one
And the same thing! A man can’t not be a
Progenitor. By preference, though, he may
Decide not to enact it, wanting rather
To have no child; remain a latent father.
But Lady M’s demand to be unsexed
Can only raise to plague us the most vexed
Question of can a fem be un-femaled?
Forgive me if you feel that I have failed,
And spoken here entirely from the view
Of males. Considering others is a due
That I must pay. But I see with male eyes
Because, all through, my chromosomes are Ys.

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