Monday, September 22, 2014
Knowing Men! (…or, Men of Rhinoceros Hides) a Prose Poem
For Women Only!
(…or, Men of Rhinoceros Hides) a Prose Poem
I was destined to learn much from the strange world of women!
From side to side acquaintanceships, thus knowledge had begun, early on:
Like hanging garments on a clothesline, for my mother—
Ye, they caught my eye early on,
And yes, I nodded at them!
While hanging one garment, next to the other!...
I may have been puzzled, but never distraunt, or disturbed.
I learned, more men, than less, have rhinoceros hides!
This of course was no surprise.
Nor seldom do these same kind of men answer readily when asked
Questions, especially ‘Why!’ to women!
I learned women like pretty things, and that they know when they
Are worn properly –they are bait for men,
This is half the weapon in the battle—
‘Ah!’ I said, ‘so strange a thing, this love of/for women!”
Then I got to believe women believed they think they know men,
But this was the failing of most women; thinking in the long run,
That such wisdom comes out of common books or magazines.
This will not do the trick, you need faith in a spy, like me!
That will do the trick! And Quick!
You don’t make a man love you, by familiarity!
(as often women can be won)
As often women think men can be won; yet still they:
Say it, think it, try it… (put it on for size)
This is so obviously learned, either by empirical data, or trial and error:
Thus comes: tit for tat, catch the tail of the rat: but he’ll bite you back!
Discourage those that think this!
The capital prize is not won that way:
Unless you’re looking for a sugar-daddy!
And this they don’t know until it’s too late!
At first you win your man by your looks, your shape, and your brain—
To some you can become equals, to others it can never be!
(discernment is of the essence).
Of course a man cannot lose if indeed he marries above him, but then
Who is to catch him, when he fails to believe, he is the only pea in the pod?
In reality, there can only be one General! (…or at least in theory)
This is what few women come to know, and in essence, outgrow the marriage.
When a man selects his mate, he feels he has good taste, lest he be
Fooled, and if fooled, ere, all by pretense, once learned, trust is lost!
And when trust is lost, you have crossed the point of no return.
Seldom will a man rebuild now that which is live in, a house divided.
Even at fifty or even seventy, one can look good to a man, depending (?)
Remember that men, more men than you may think have rhinoceros hides,
And can be near cannibals…
For a good man, you will find one out of a thousand, for a good woman,
One out of a hundred ((this is of course a guess, coming out of an old
hope chest…and to man’s way of thinking but I could be wrong)
(and men can easily pretend to be exactly what you want them to be, but once
married, the pretense bleeds out, like a wound to the belly…))
For seldom does a man who is a man, a man among men, cry out and
That is because of pride— and too much pride will eat him alive, but
Like a snake that eats his own tail, winding himself up into a coil, he’ll do it
All the same, eat himself alive for pride!
Like a drunk hitting himself in the head until he’s dead, pride is underneath
That Rhinoceros’ skin: this is when a man looks for his gazebo, to hide!
For peace of mind, to ponder; this is noteworthy—: to assume, to harden
His texture: to take away the halo, the true sacrament of beauty, he has
Placed above his woman’s head, has now diminished.
Bear this in mind, the woman is now washed away in his eyes,
He has put horns on her head: or else he is like soggy bred soaked in milk!
And no woman wants to lead her man by the nose…
She is now Lilith, the queen of hell.
The fascination, and excitement has left for him.
What was left, has now withered to widen lands and seas—do not laugh!
This is the blackest black, where a man can be!
Streaked plentifully with gray, unquenched.
What can he do? Be not fooled! Some men think they own you.
But no use in brooding over a man’s love, or restrain his love;
The point: never stale the freshness of each other’s feeling for one another.
Do not descend from the height in which first treaded.
Never forget, men need respect as much as women need appreciation.
And Men, do not think like women, nor women like men, although both are
Strange creatures, even at the fruit market, or in bed.
Some are stranger than others: be yourself, and similarities do count!
And the worse of all lures, is a man who loves booze, yield not to such fools,
Who think the barroom is cool, and his pals of such nature are hunky-dory.
Do not fly hither and thither toward that jiggered man, he has no plan.
This is hinted knowledge beyond ordinary women’s senses of men.
I am speaking to young women for the most part, not old toothless women
Women whose noses touch their chins…
For such women have already learned the hard way, about men…
If you are not wise in your selection: find a man with one arm, and tender bones,
Flesh like string: why? He cannot do you harm like the young ox.
Do not seek the bourgeois swine-businessman, or men of temperament!
Nor seek the madman, or lawless, the royal, they have flame and fire—but
Quickly lose their desire!
Variety! ‘Tis was the golden key, in my youth.
A wife must be many wives in one!
To keep his love, she must be all women to him.
The new, the lover, the sparkling, the flower, do not let it fade.
Do not let the man sink the last of your posies.
In the garden of love, is the snake, stomp on its head, or burn the garden to
Do not argue, believe it or not, men are more delicate than women; other than being
Let me repeat: men get angry, women hurt, and that is why women heal faster, they
Acknowledge hurt, and men hang on to anger—such a shame, should men learn to
Cry when it hurts, the anger would fade, and he’d heal, like a broken wing from a bird!
Abandon all to his arms!
Surprise: equals everlasting pursuit!
In other words, if he plucks his flower and smells all the sweetness there is to have,
He may look for a new flower, elsewhere!
Thus store some away.
Once won, not always kept. This is not the final victory.
To some men who find a lovely woman, once she becomes: fat, stale and half dead,
The woman ends up heartbroken. Look for ingredients, like you would making a soup
A roast, don’t burn the toast.
Each day a man and woman must win each other over again, or assume it will be
His or her last victory: especially a man for a woman.
Man has an insatiable appetite, thus feed him well, and make him satisfied: at the
Table, in bed, with play and with friends: he is like a horse, you can lead him to water
But if the well is not full, it will be hell!
If you send him away hungry, he will not come back to you for more;
He will look elsewhere! Or live in an imagined world.
Do not become an old story.
Win a man with wine and song, it can be a magic net, if indeed you can keep him
Long, he is but a tangled fish, enmeshed; but if he keeps on drinking, get rid of him!
The finest of the arts is: the conquering of men, by women; love is the finest art
Ask why does this art exist? The female spider lies still, while the male circles her,
He makes no mistake, lest he lose his life, by and by—
For she is near blind, and will strike to the death, should he make a misstep!
But greater than all beauty, is a woman’s wisdom—ere, if a man can endure
You may have to hide this: but to many men it is clear, you are his sent helper.
They have had cities, and nations, and ships and empires fight over them:
And men know this: even religions have been built with pillars to adore them, and
Again they know this…
And I say this with all honesty, I know so little about women that they at times frighten me, and yet it is magnificent!
The only wisdom I can give a woman in this category is: wear heavy skirts.
You may not understand a man, the why’s of him—why he does this and that,
Or why he did this or that, or why he’s going to—
But let it rest in the unconscious, neither does he!
He still can be a prize among men.
Sharp is a woman who sees this!
A man, not so unlike a woman, is a much wider panorama than one my think.
If you must, in light of what I have said, examine why so many marriages fail:
Look again at what I have earlier said: exercise, to keep up various parts of
Your body (the roundness, firmness, the color, the mind, the soul, and don’t
forget to socialize: make the whole body whole; you need not be a saint but don’t be the devil
Men may not keep up their intimacies, but he certainly looks for them in his
Mate! Yes, sorry to say, at times it is a one-way street!
And here comes the double-bind, or standard:
A man wishes to marry a virgin, but secretly will run to a whore—what for?
All I can say is protect your prize, say no more!
He may not like it, but he will understand: sometimes men need ultimatums!
The same thing goes, if indeed you have been waiting, and waiting:
You are not sliced ham in the cooler, give him an ultimatum!
But like I was about to say, a man may not keep up his intimacies, but he certainly looks For them in his mate… make no mistake: like in the Army, you must
Salute the uniform and his rank, not the physique.
But the secret is, is to be interdependent, one to another in small degrees! Not weak.
Hygiene, physiology, is an ongoing process in a,
Relationship, marriage, one mate to another.
Nightgowns, have them sweetly fresh, and dainty!
Your man must never be forgotten, nor feel it.
Make the dollar go farther, if indeed you are the cashier.
If not, a man should never take all, but put into your lap, spending money for
The week to come; nor does he need to know what it is for, unless you are
A man must treat his wife, better than he treats his pals, by buying them
Rounds of drinks at a bar, or when he goes hunting…
And that would be right! If he will not, he cheapens himself to his friends,
Even if they yell and call him, yellow, and henpecked:
And no woman wants a man like that, nor a friend.
If he is less than a man, notice this first off, and get rid of him!
And men beware, although this is for women to learn about men, men
Must hold up their end.
So the essence this poem is twofold: women do not think like men, and for
Women to think like men, they must forget to understand the man,
And just assume, this poem is not a lie, but fact, because to a woman it may look
Written: 9-19 & 20-2014/No: 4553
By Dr. Dennis L. Siluk© 2014