Man Up

Man Up
By Delroy Nesta Williams

Man Up young boy Man Up

Daddy's gone
Out there in the cold world
Loving these young girls
So you have to play his role
So Man Up young boy, Man Up
No more childhood games
You have to bear the brunt of your father's shame
Every time mommy's hurt
She will drag you through his dirt
Because you're a constant reminder
That your father walked out the door
Leaving her to raise 3 kids on her own
And to make it even worse
You have all his characteristics -
Sly with words and full of tricks,
You even sound exactly like him when you speak.
Man Up young boy, Man Up
No more all out fridays followed by lazy saturdays lingering out late
You've got to go out and earn money to put food on your family's plate
There's no more crying for you
Suck it up and be a man
The one that your daddy couldn't be
It has to be you since anatomically it can't be your mommy
You've got to look out for your sisters
Make sure they don't fall prey to the drug dealers and gangsters
Or even worst, men like your father!
Who just gave up on his family
To chase young skirts
Who are almost the same age as his children
Now he has left you with the burden
Picking up the slack where he dropped it
So Man Up young boy, Man Up!
Drop out of school and get a job
Now is the time to pull up your pants, tie your waist and be strong
Simply because daddy is running from his responsibility
And mommy is too busy casting blame and scapegoatting
So this young boy, has to Man Up
Grow some moustache and beard
And face the world
Even though he isn't prepared
And all of this frustration
Is so new to him
As he tries to be better than his father
But every mistake or misstep
Serves as a reminder from his mother
That he's just like his daddy
And only adds fire to his failure
So now he simply rolls over
From one day to the other
Living a man's life while only a child
And he wishes somewhere that his father would be suffering
The same pain that was bestowed upon him
When daddy left his mother and sisters
Forcing his boy child to Man Up!

My contribution to Fathermen, a blog

I was recently approached by a PhD student who is doing research about men and their role as fathers within Dominica and the Caribbean. He is of Dominican heritage but was raised in the UK. I think the field of research will raise some interested conclusions and bring some insight into the whole idea of being male, a man and a father especially within the West Indian context. Issues such as these are seldom discussed in formal settings and even when discussed usually take on vulgar tones and finger pointing.

So I applaud him very much for his efforts and wish him all the best. I hope he knows that the road won't be easy at all, nothing in Dominica or the Caribbean is, as a matter of fact.

But before I ramble on and forget the objective of this post, just check out the two poems (Father Failed Me and Father, Teach Me To Pray) that I submitted on Fathermen

Mommy, I'm pregnant!

Teenage pregnancy
By Delroy Nesta Williams

Mommy I’m pregnant
And I know you may be angry
But before you hit me
Or start to judge me
Take a minute and listen
Pay attention to me.

Mommy, you never taught me about sex
Or how to deal with the advances of the opposite sex
Never said a word about condoms.
I don’t even know the meaning of contraception
Far less for conception.

Mommy, the boys on the block made me feel good,
Saying things that you and dad never would.
Spoke to me in ways that I had never heard:
Told me I was beautiful, told me I was nice
Mommy, they complimented my sense of style.
Why didn’t you do it too mommy?
Why, oh why?
And now I am with child.

This foetus grows in my belly
The thought of teenage pregnancy overwhelms me,
But I promise my baby to do better
To talk to her, to love her.
I won’t neglect her like you did me,
I hope you also pass my message to daddy.

Times when I wanted his love and attention,
Instead he spent hours watching the television
All I wanted was an occasional hug and kiss,
To live in a house full of blessings and bliss.
You taught me to talk but never talked to me,
You taught me to walk but never walked with me.
I still want to say I’m sorry,
Sorry for this teenage pregnancy.

But now, I want you to talk to my little sister,
Because she’s growing up even faster.
She’s already getting the attention of the boys;
Mommy, don’t let her fall for their silly ploys.
She’s wearing seductive clothes, putting on so much make up,
She’s so busy to grow up.
I hope she isn’t as naïve as me,
Boys will definitely take advantage,
Because she looks a lot older than her age.
Mommy, talk to her please!
Don’t let her make the same mistake as I did
Speak to her about the birds and the bees.
It’s too late for me now,
But save her mommy, save her some how,
Mommy, please act quick
She’s already talking about *** and ***.

Mommy, before I leave
Know that from now on I will do better
And though I may have lost your honour
I hope it passes to my son or daughter.
Mommy although you had some part to play
I don’t blame you for this, no way!
I will tell my child how you loved me,
And how you showered blessings upon me.
There will be no resentment in my family
Not the type I got from you and daddy.
Motherhood awaits me and although I’m unprepared,
You’ve shown me what not to do.
So mommy, with a heavy heart, I say Thank You…

Father, Teach Me To Pray

This is my newest poem; still in edit mode, might still might change it around some time soon.

Father, Teach Me To Pray

By Delroy Nesta Williams

I want to revisit my youth,

Go back in time.

Just to talk to my father,

There is this question that I need him to answer.

Daddy, why you never taught me to pray?

As I reflect,

I’ve heard you curse,

I even saw you smoke,

But I can’t remember a word of prayer

That you spoke!

But Father I ask that you hold my hands,

Force my knees to the floor,

And to the heavens, stretch out my arms.

Recite to me the Lord’s Prayer

Or just scream out Proverbs and Psalms.

All I have to go by right now

Are the teachings of my mother,

Her words were comfort to my ear

And the lessons still linger.

But I would still like to know

The thoughts of my father.

I'm a Proud Father

Yes, it’s true I’m a father, a dad; got myself a young one after months of trying and after a difficult process, my baby is here. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to jinx the birth. I didn’t want what happened the first time to occur again, death during delivery. That was so much to bear the last time.

Let me be clear before I lead people down the wrong road, because I get the feeling that this might just happen. I am a dad but not to a baby boy or girl, actually one of the fish in my aquarium gave birth to a young one. It isn’t the first birth in the aquarium but it is the first to survive the first week, so I am hoping all goes well.

I have always loved fish and as a young boy I had a lot of guppies in a big bowl but they always seemed to die or disappear (thieves) after a while. But about a year ago, I decided to buy myself an aquarium (at Pet Land, in Roseau), as a gift for something I did (can’t remember what it was) and I filled it with a variety of fish. I think I overpopulated it and pretty soon the fish started to die. I did manage to save a few of them (2 black widows and a small shark) only to have them killed later by a mishap.

They say that when you want a job done right you should do it yourself, well that pertains to cleaning of aquariums too. I gave my cousin a small job to clean my aquarium, nothing to difficult, and nothing that a 14-year old boy couldn’t handle, right. Well wrong, turned out he used bleach to clean the bowl and didn’t even rinse out the bowl before adding the fish. A few hours after, I came back home to meet my fish floating in the bowl, well I learned my lesson.

Today no one touches my fish or aquarium because that could spell your death, lol. I only have six fish in there now, well actually seven, almost forgot the newborn baby fish. I have given them all names; well actually they all have the same name, snookums. Don’t ask where that came from. Snookums 7 is doing fine, almost can’t see him/her most of the time because of the marbles, shells and other stuff in the bowl but I make sure I locate him/her before I go to bed at nights and first thing in the morning. I have even increased my feed regime just to ensure that he/she receives the fair share of food and grows up strong.

So as you can see I’m a proud dad, proud father and will post more photos soon. Will try to get a close up photo but bear with me I’m working with a normal digital camera, need to get myself an underwater one soon.

Nesta

Father failed me

No, this isn't a blog post or poem about my father or his adventures during my youth, but it is a call to authorities that be to look at the situation of the sons of our soil (Dominica) because there is a very serious social issue that is not giving enough or any substantial attention. So last night while reading a book I came across a line that spoke out to me and immediately I grabbed pen and paper, which is always conveniently next to the bed (never know when a good idea pops up in the middle of the night) and as usual the thoughts just flowed.

This poem isn't really about internalized thoughts or experiences as is with a lot of the other poems that I have written because although my father left a lot to be desired from his parenting skills, he did do a very good job with no experience with the task at hand and he only once chance to get it right. Yes, I consider myself an only child, well at least I was an only child during my childhood (on my father's side... he only had two other children when I was already grown 21 or 22).

I didn't come out too bad but I can be described as one of the lucky ones because there are thousands of young men here who havent escaped and have fallen through the cracks of our inadequate social system. There are a number of reasons why these young men seem to falter through childhood unto adulthood but that will probably be examined later on in another post, but I would like to share this poem, written last night:

Father Failed Me

They should have noticed
the silence before the storm
and now the silence has returned
after the tempest's destruction
souls hardened, veins cold, eyes constricted
yes, absentee father, your planted this seed

Killing all hope
dream-dazed, dreams choked
reality all up in a blaze
no water to quench the fire's thirst
for father has failed
and now son is worst

Prison record passed
from father to son
not hard work, commitment or patience
lifelines of generations past
but rash, harsh words
scarring the soul
As the world turns

Sons slipping beyond rescue
everyday the situation compounded
society dumbfounded
no answers to the questioned posed
where to start? where to look?
to the "wine"; to the rope
as his last, best hope

too late, too late
society has sealed his fate
and now mother cries
because mother tried
while father hides

by Delroy "Nesta" Williams