Companionship or romance, what's the difference?
Is it through death that we depart?
But even friends share that remark.
Is it dinner with a view?
But with friends I'd still pursue.
Is it the coffee shop or show?
But with friends I often go.
Is it through language that we flow?
But my partners have no difference.
What's the difference?
Could it only be emotion?
That alone is not enough.
Then maybe too, devotion?
Could it really be this tough?
With friends there is adherence.
Then maybe it's appearance?
But that's not an interference.
Then maybe there's no difference,
What's the difference?
I am a rainbow kid
I take pride in who I am
And embrace the crown as I am
These colors I embrace,
This rainbow, running through my blood stream.
They call it debased,
But, I call it redeemed.
My identity I embrace,
Out of the ordinary,
I've Created my own special place.
Showing a full display to the world,
Freely,
Unapologetic,
And delightedly
Does it all matter?
That I am gay, I am a lesbian?
Does it all matter?
that I am transgender, I am Intersexual?
or rather Asexual?
tell me,
Why does it matter
how I walk,
How I dress,
How I speak.
Is my confidence threatening you perhaps?
That you want to crush my spirit so bad
with silly questions and remarks.
I am a she, she is a she
and the bravery of asking "who is the man in the relationship"
I mean...?
Can't you see the breast breathing out the chest?
He being a he, dating a he
and you still ask the same question " who is the woman in a relationship"
I mean...?
Do ya'll understand what sexuality is?
Do ya'll understand its fluidity?
However, it shouldn't even matter to you what gender anyone is attracted to
It is their life afterall,
Go clear your confusions in encyclopedias
In CAPS this is my conclusion,
It is none of your business who I attract,
and it is none of your business who I am attracted to.
Perhaps this is the kind of letter you have been waiting to recieve
SEXUALITY is FLUID.
a plum, a peach, a song, a beach
a bend, a curvy straightaway
a bob, a dip, a dunk, a screech
a hair-breadth turn took your future away
you nerveless nock, how dare you rock
this sanctimonious cerebrum with poppycock
it behooves you to hoof it to Timbuktu ~
haunting howls from the bowels of Montezu
Poetry,
it's every woman,
every man ...
It comes from the womb,
comes from semen,
but it is conceived
no meat...
Poetry,
there's no mother,
nor father,
ever son
or daughter ...
Poetry is born
of itself, per se ...!
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.