The Hyndi, Two Boys, A B*tch
Life gives such lessons when we are open to seeing with fresh eyes.
Eyes that don’t judge
Nor criticize.
Such a moment happened for me recently
And well… have a read
I watched two boys,
Top of my hill,
Thumbing a ride
As I took my trash outside.
As hitchhiking your way around,
Is how all safely roll
In this time-warped village
Overlooking the sea.
A car passed them by.
B*tch I heard one yell
At she,
For not doing as he
pleased.
What is it we teach these In-betweens?
Not yet men,
Not really boys.
To readily call a woman b*tch
For little reason at all
What do they do call the woman
Who does what they want?
My Queen.
Are they taught to bow down
When respected
And given what they desire?
Are they taught to toss words out
When they don’t get their way?
Are they taught to cast
Blame
Shame
Or perhaps they simply model
What they see
What they hear
On this here floating paradise.
Me.
I said
Hi Guys
When we caught eyes.
They say
Hi Ma’am.
And I thought
Ah ha, manners, oh my.
They know to respect
When it suits
They know to show off
When in groups
So I went out on a limb
And casually asked,
The woman in the
Hyundai,
The one who passed you by.
I'm curious...
Why was she a b*tch?
Why am I ma’am?
One stuttered and stumbled.
One looked away.
They could see
I held no mad,
even from 15 feet away.
I did not shout,
Nor stomp their way.
There was no finger pointing,
No adult-ing by me.
Just curiosity.
Both hung their heads,
And that was enough.
For my roll, Not here to shame,
But to shine a light
So bright possibly they see a new path
In their once dark-soul night.
I continued as though thinking out loud
When someone passes you by,
Doesn’t do what you want,
In that moment,
What if you smiled and waved
Instead of tossing down a slur,
a name?
I caught one’s eyes
And I could possibly
an ear.
Perhaps my words
Would do more than slip through
And disappear.
You may not look so cool
To a friend
To an enemy.
But if you give it a go
I know you’ll feel better
End of day
When you look you in the eye.
That I promise ye.
Of course, the last,
I did not say,
Just whispered
internally.
Poet, is me.
Who am I
To them but that
Perhaps Interesting
Maybe Crazy
Goat Lady…
Maah-ther of Moo Baah
The big-ass goat
forever standing on a wall
Who looks like a cow
But sounds like a baah
Who all the kids know
On this 5 square mile
slice of heaven…
Who am I
To guarantee anything
to these young men.
Yet, what a damn good bit of advice
If I do admit it felt nice.
So Mirror mirror on your wall
Who is it you want to see
Oh, so tall
Staring back at thee
At the end of your day?
An ass,
Calling others names
Bad-mouthing
when you don’t get your way?
Or A man,
A woman,
Proud to step out of that
Toxic way of reacting
Of being?
Choice.
We all have it.
Responsibility.
Most never own it.
So what will you do?
I say take out the trash of you…
And smile
Even when another lays garbage
At your proverbial feet.
Voice.
Find yours today
Your words have power.
When you’re ready to find your voice and use it with intention and purpose, book a one-on-one Clarity Call.
What’s More JOY Worth To You?
If you want more goat, my words and
delicious JOY, join the family today.
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