Why Do Men Feel Threatened?

 

Purpose

I believe people are capable of greatness

Making the right decisions and being the forces of nature, 

For in the depths of crises comes in the clarity, alacrity, presence and perseverance.

To battle the odds or accept the inevitable, 

It takes true courage and conviction to take a stand, 

And feel empathy for oneself and our circumstances, 

After all we came to this world with a purpose, 

And leave we shall not until we have achieved that. 

Here's a cleaner version of your poem, maintaining its themes of courage, purpose, and self-realization:

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**I Believe People Are Capable of Greatness**

We are capable of greatness—  

Making the right choices,  

Becoming forces of nature.  

For in the depths of crisis,  

Clarity, alacrity, presence, and perseverance emerge.  

To battle the odds or accept the inevitable,  

It takes true courage and conviction to stand firm.  

We must also feel empathy for ourselves and our circumstances,  

For we come into this world with a purpose,  

And shall not leave until that purpose is fulfilled.  

Possibilities

What is life but a layout of possibilities, 

Each path with its twists and turns, 

Twists turning into alternate pathways, 

and some turns leading to dead ends, 

Where does one head from here?? 

Is there a beginning or an end, 

Who are we in these strange roadways, 

A lost traveler or an adventurer, 

What are we seeking and who are we running from, 

Is it our past lives; 

Perhaps those alternate paths, 

And possibilities that never were, 

Finding an answer could be the key, 

Seeking that deeper meaning and understanding, 

May finally free us from our own despair 

Taking us back to where we belong 

On our destined path to discovery. 

Here's a revised version of your poem, streamlined for clarity and flow while keeping its reflective, existential tone:

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**What is Life?**

What is life but a map of possibilities,  

Each path with its twists and turns—  

Some leading to new routes,  

Others to dead ends.  

Where do we go from here?  

Is there a beginning, or an end?  

Who are we on these strange roads—  

Lost travelers or bold adventurers?  

What are we seeking, and who are we running from?  

Is it our past lives,  

Or paths not taken,  

Possibilities that never were?  

Perhaps the answer lies in the seeking—  

In the quest for deeper meaning and understanding.  

Only then can we free ourselves from despair,  

And find our way back  

To the destined path of discovery.  

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Middle path

 The world is divided, in pains and strife,

And fractured our people’s lives throughout,

In despair, agony and fear they survive,

Through the grimes of everyday life.

A false sense of belonging they seek,

And the dichotomy is stark and brazen,

Minds are open no more to change,

And rigid thoughts are bound to chains.

We know not how to listen and share,

Just want to be heard and not spoken back.

With every extreme left there is a far right,

And we know not  how to bridge the divide.

Is it so difficult to listen to the other side,

And slide the egotist behind.

It is only then we will begin to see the light by the blithe,

And talk to one another in cold retreat.

You may be surprised to note the middle path,

In all the extremities of the northern and southern divide. 

Here's a cleaner version of your poem, with a focus on tightening language and improving rhythm while preserving the themes of division, struggle, and the need for open dialogue:

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**The World Divided**

The world is torn by pain and strife,  

Fractured are our people's lives,  

In despair, agony, and fear, they survive,  

Trudging through the grime of daily life.  

A false sense of belonging they seek,  

The divide so stark, so brazen,  

Minds no longer open to change,  

Rigid thoughts are bound in chains.  

We no longer know how to listen or share,  

We seek only to be heard, not to care.  

For every extreme left, there’s a far right,  

And we cannot bridge this widening divide.  

Is it so hard to hear the other side,  

And set the egoed self aside?  

Only then can we begin to see the light,  

And speak to one another without the fight.  

You may be surprised to find the middle path,  

In the extremities of north and south's wrath.  

---

This version smooths the flow, tightens the language, and improves the clarity of the themes. The poem now emphasizes the need for understanding and finding balance between extremes. What do you think?

Prayer for the soul

As I travel through the world,

Seeking to find meaning and essence in what I do, feel and think,

I can’t help but sense a feeling of helplessness and guilt in the monotony of my existence. 

There is an emptiness that  I seek to fill,

A void that I long to replenish.

And I know not what it is I am longing for and what path I seek to take,

Atleast I know for now that I am a lost soul looking for refuge,

And hope to find my answers in the living deluge,

My start Is here and this is where I will begin,

And define my path to discovery, mirth and living. 

Here’s a cleaned-up version of your poem, refining the language and flow while retaining its introspective tone:

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**A Lost Soul Seeking**

As I travel through the world,  

Searching for meaning in all I do, feel, and think,  

I can’t help but sense a quiet helplessness  

And a guilt that lingers in the monotony of my existence.  

There is an emptiness I long to fill,  

A void I seek to replenish,  

But I know not what it is I truly desire,  

Nor which path I am meant to follow.  

For now, I am a lost soul, searching for refuge,  

Hoping to find my answers in this living deluge.  

My journey begins here, in this very moment,  

As I strive to define my path to discovery, joy, and life.  

---

This version tightens the language, simplifies some phrasing, and improves the overall flow while maintaining the poem's reflective nature. Let me know if this works for you!

My babes

Sprawling green lawns,
submerged in sugary dew,
makes for a surreptitious escapade,
In the morning hues.
Basking in the sun as it emerges from the blues,
I catch the split splat of my daughters shoes,
Splashing the mud as she rushes by,
I see the sun light in her eyes.
My heart is pounding at this mere sight,
And I begin my writing in sheer surprise,
I am videographing this time and day,
Screening for every laugh and play,
"Animals" she screams in her powerful voice,
And I just smile giddy inside my mind.
Watching her wild and free flight,
I can only pray for some respite,
Today a little girl in my life,
And tomorrow a rambunctious woman in sight.
I capture that image in my lens,
And set her free from all sentience.

Captured Moments

Sprawling green lawns,
Drenched in sugary dew,
A secret escape in the morning’s hue.
Basking in the sun as it rises from the blue,
I catch the split-splat of my daughter's shoes,
Splashing mud as she rushes by,
I see the sunlight dancing in her eyes.

My heart pounds at this simple sight,
And I begin my writing, caught by surprise.
I’m filming this moment, this time, this day,
Capturing every laugh and every play.
"Animals!" she screams in her powerful voice,
And inside, I smile, filled with quiet joy.

Watching her wild and free in flight,
I can only pray for some respite.
Today, a little girl, full of life,
Tomorrow, a woman, bold and bright.
I capture that image, frozen in my lens,
And set her free, beyond all sense.

Capturing a Moment

Sprawling green lawns,
Drenched in morning dew,
Set the stage for a secret escape,
In the soft hues of the dawn.

Basking in the sun as it rises from the blues,
I catch the split splat of my daughter’s shoes,
Splashing through the mud as she rushes by,
The sunlight sparkling in her eyes.

My heart pounds at the sight of her,
And I begin to write in quiet surprise,
Videographing this time, this day,
Screening every laugh, every playful sway.

"Animals!" she screams in her powerful voice,
And I can’t help but smile, giddy inside.
Watching her wild, free spirit take flight,
I pray for just a moment’s respite.

Today, she’s a little girl in my life,
But tomorrow, she’ll be a rambunctious woman in sight.
I capture that image through my lens,
And let her go, setting her free from all sense.

Writers block

Haven’t rhymed a rhyme in years,
Yet it seems it’s been by design,
All these years creeping by without sign,
Just when it seemed like an end in sight,
My babes triggered a dynamite,
It’s the poetry month.. they yelped in might,
And here I felt ignited.
A passion for words that was all mine,
Alas lost but not forgotten,
I need to reinvigorate those fleeing thoughts,
And connect my soul with my mind,
I will regain my voice again,
And find my deliverance in my poetry once again.

Here’s a cleaned-up version of your poem, with attention to rhythm and clarity while keeping the original sentiments intact:

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**Reigniting the Flame**

I haven’t rhymed a verse in years,  

Yet somehow, it seems by design,  

All these years creeping by, without a sign.  

Just when it seemed an end was near,  

My babes sparked the fuse—loud and clear,  

"It's poetry month!" they cheered with might,  

And suddenly, I felt ignited.  

A passion for words that was once mine,  

Lost, but never forgotten in time.  

I must revive those fleeting thoughts,  

And reconnect my soul with my mind.  

I will regain my voice, once more,  

And find my deliverance in poetry's core.  

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This version improves the flow and maintains the themes of rediscovering a lost passion and reclaiming creative expression. What do you think of this revision?