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PROLOG
“When sitting with ourselves, sometimes we astral plane and find what’s hidden in ourselves. The boy who was supposedly a stowaway can also be lost in the body of a man who sits across from me today.”
A Man Became Boyish (Lyrics)
Scraping a plate sounds of a fork raking the chalkboard/
Of a mate whose actions are now the age, of a/
School boy1 in a state after being forced fed his own/
Fate the dinners been served to em late drops dribble/
Duplicate beads of rain ripple a puddle he wet the/
Floor, it bore2 the worn lust of a riddle3/
Flesh flushed at six points from his own middle4/
Time past through his body the boy who was diddled. He may5/
Have left6 but now a man stands with the spittle/
Can’t place how it slipped from his lips. Now the dude/
Was Angered. He vowed to never let that little one/
Take hold of his mold.7 He looked endangered. Embarrassment8/
Shown he felt over exposed and haggard ever/
So from the load he tried to keep. The shame he tries to/
Creep. That joint slowly explodes even/
When you try to plug up the leaks9/
Liner Notes:
I wrote this verse rather quickly. It took me a day to write and about 20 mins to record. I needed to push myself to write quickly in order to kill the self doubt that was starting to take root around my abilities to write. However, the ideas here have been cooking for years, and I dig the themes I’m touching on. I also am really proud of how this track sounds. The mixing and mastering are really proof of my progress. I encourage you to check out the works—Substack post—I reference. I’ve also been reading Don Quixote, and I have been reflecting a lot around the theme of delusion, how delusion is treated in Western Literature versus Buddhist Spiritual Practice. If you're curious, check out this note which I’ve been returning to as I read Don Quixote.
Vocals performed by, and now Miguel.
Track mix and mastered by, Hear No Evil (and now Miguel).
Instrumental, produced by 9th Wonder, original song, Heartburn by Sean Price (shoutout to
for putting me on to Sean P!).Also, shoutout to
, thanks for giving this a read and listen. Appreciate you.Checkout
and previous collaborative joint below!
I wrote these lyrics in community with ARTSTACK poetry haul for week 12. Words for this week where: never, lust, dinner, duplicate, age, six, time, past, state, rain. #artstackpoets.
Dear Listener-Reader,
Thank you for engaging with my work. If you are interested in learning more about me, check out my previous post On The Doc, Found/Lost Connection, or Page Made Magus.
If my work inspires you or sparks your interest, I invite you to subscribe or follow me. I keep this space free of paywalls and subscriptions—it’s just you and me connecting through art. Heart-to-heart. I would greatly appreciate your support by sharing my work, visiting my store, or treating me to a cup of tea.
With warm and loving gratitude,
and now Miguel
Please check out the painting related to this piece, it is titled “The Black Boy.” I am pointing to this painting, and its origin being Liverpool, England—this cities links to the human trafficking of Black peoples across the Atlantic—this also a references to previous work by me here, check out “On The Doc” and my use the the BLACK Freighter from A. Moore’s Watchmen. That is the macro connection, but, on the micro—individual body-mind-soul level—I wanted to tie the mythology of this painting to the body of the subject of this verse. The subject in the painting was supposedly a stowaway. I want to shed light on how we stowaway, and sneak our own childhood wounds within the vessel of our bodies.
Bore has many meanings and this line cannot be a bore if you bore the weight of a dictionary and looked this word up!
“… lust of a riddle” points to language itself and how creative expression is often used to allude direct communication especially when using language to speaks to trauma. Think of how many times we try and code language to save others, and ourselves, of embarrassment.
Lips, nipples, genitals, chakra points, and other symmetrical things like …
Our friend, the subject of this verse, is suffering from CPTSD. Rapper Phonte speaks about the sexual abuse he experienced from the age of 6 to 12 years of in the documentary, “May The Lord Watch”. He touches on how this sort of trauma creates a shutdown response that has impacted his ability to have meaningful relationships.
Or half left.
“Confe sustained an unnatural smile, he turned into a mime, words came out—mouth’s not moving—holding a steel smile: cheek bones cocked with malice. He left ... Peluche’s mind was besides the smoke and in it at the same time, hand on the wheel, other hand on the blunt; the rest of voices drowned in the voice of his own head, chest hot as the engine that roared and powered them to their destination.” from
story, Flowers for the Dead and Bullets for the Living or Fried Chicken, Dead Horse, very inspiring.The fear of exposing those wounded little ones in us. Healing the Shame That Binds You, by John Bradshaw.
“I’ve spent years as the pressure regulator—keeping everything smooth, breathable, non-lethal. Rage is now leaking sideways.” from
Why Can’t I Be an Asshole Too A personal essay about rage leaks.
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