Kyle "Guante" Tran Myhre - The Art of Taking the L
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- čas přidán 2. 05. 2022
- Get Guante’s new book, NOT A LOT OF REASONS TO SING, BUT ENOUGH: bit.ly/guantenotalot
Check out all of Guante’s books: bit.ly/kyletranmyhre
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Kyle "Guante" Tran Myhre, performing at the Button Studio in Minneapolis, MN.
About Button:
Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for spoken word and performance poetry.
We seek to showcase the power and diversity of voices in our community. By encouraging and broadcasting the best and brightest performance poets of today, we hope to broaden poetry's audience, to expand its reach and develop a greater level of cultural appreciation for the art form. - Zábava
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shout out to everyone sticking around to watch a 13-minute (!) poem; and thanks again to Button for sharing this one.
it’s an automatic click when I see your name ❤️ amazing truths as always 🙏
It was worth the time. Thank you.
when the words flow like water and hit like a trained fighter, we're begging for more at the 13 minute mark
To say this as a female, I don't know that I will ever fully be capable of truly expressing myself in a way that will ever be adequate enough but please know that I say this with the utmost sincerity ... Thank you. For more reasons than this one but for it in particular, my baby brother was one of the 75% of men who have died by suicide. He and I are from two long generations of family born and raised in the foothills of the southern Ohio Appalachian Valley where our stories and lessons are as firmly rooted and run as deep as those of our family tree.
From birth, the men where we're from birth the same lessons passed down to one another for generations are aren't just taught and raised how to be "men" but they are molded, built up, shaped, trimmed down to fit a stifling, ridged form and then torn down to nothing again only to be remolded a thousand times over long before they ever reach adulthood with the definition and expections of who and what and how they should be, act, think, and feel simply because they are born men. Just like the labor of working and living among the farm fields and coal mountains of this area are for the people around here, being a man here is hard and, unfortunately, more often than not, the expectations of the men from here are as unforgiving as the land that surrounds them.
But, as I said, our stories and lessons are firm and they run deep here. The price that's come at the expense of the lessons taught to men here that too many like my brother have paid for isn't intentional. Going back even further than themselves, our great-grandfathers taught those same lessons to our grandfathers who brought our fathers up the same way who unknowingly hand them down to their sons who sometimes end up as the names of baby brothers carved onto tombstones. But how could any of them have known that the lessons they've been teaching would have had that kind of potential aftermath? How could they have known that the same ridged, unforgiving, hard men their lessons had been molded into for so long would be so firmly rooted that my father didn't even cry when my brother died because where we're from we teach our sons that men don't cry even when men who can't cry aren't surviving?
So lessons still stay firm. Sons still continue dying. Fathers still can't mourn for their lost children.
As you said, to think what we could do if only we could learn just a little less about what it means to be a man and a bit more of who men can be when sons start being taught by their fathers only what it means for them to be themselves, to be authentic, to be vulnerable, to be human. But I don't imagine the possibility that maybe one day men could even learn to fly - my brother already learned how to do that on his own terms. Instead, I hope that some day generations here will hand down new lessons where fathers will have sons who have been taught for themselves simply how to be here and alive and well. Just like I wish my brother could be so hopefully his son doesn't have to become another tombstone sitting beside him.
@@rachelmcguire6739 thanks for sharing that
My brother.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
You inspire me.
Yeeessss, finally this poem with excellent sound quality! Love it!
The fact i got an ad in the middle if this is honestly disrespectful.
As a trans man who has had to deal with being an intense as a male poc who fights for other male poc who have it worse than me since I'm only brown not black and also a feminist but also feel the pressure to perform toxic masculinity to be seen as a "real man" especially when living stealth in a new state. This shit hits hard.
Wonderful delivery and poem.
This right here made me realize that everything that I feel is poetry. What I mean by that is I feel like if I keep expressing my feelings as less-than, then it wouldn't appear to be bigger than myself thus I can't keep learning FROM it. I shouldn't hold back on expressing myself. This inspired me to keep pushing my writing beyond the limit. This is absolutely beautiful in the most heart-wrenching way.
Told a beautiful story.
Great work!
Beautiful
I love your voice
Damn ❤
I am shamed to admit this. After years in addiction, battling survivors guilt after war, therapy lead me to recognize my Mother not my Father is my hero. Had I realized that much sooner I probably wouldn’t have joined the Army. I probably wouldn’t barely be graduating from cal poly this late in life. I Can’t change the past. As a man I can only admit my faults. Recognize what it means to be a man of character. And do my best to be an example for my daughter. Wins come and go. The L’s or lessons will stay forever.
The Hero is never the guy working at 3 am to put food on the table for 3 kids and a wife
To those 4 he is ❤
this is just wonderful…. thank you so much for sharing it with us 😢
Bhai help me i have gareb
"This is an old story...." 😑