Best Lgbtq Poems
I am a girl,
Everyone sees it.
I graciously accept the label,
Twirling in a girls spool,
And playing it up for others.
Sometimes I feel an itch,
In a place I can't reach.
There are times when it quells,
When my voice cracks,
And I am somewhere else.
Where my hair is to my neck,
And my voice bellows.
But I am brought back to reality,
Because I am a girl.
He comes out again,
Stilling me when girls are asked to line up,
Twitching when a teacher asks for a 'strong boy',
I hold him back,
A slap on the wrist,
A prisoner in a cell.
But in the deepest of my thoughts,
I am free,
Completely and utterly.
He is with me,
Unchained,
But it ends every morning I wake.
I step out of the shower,
Hair cascading down,
As I stand in front of my reflective captor,
A deep rumbling comes from inside me,
And he bubbles up to the surface,
Itching and scraping at my soul.
I claw at the confines of my chest,
And he bursts out like dynamite,
Sparks flowing,
Tingles of electricity follow my nerves,
And I truly see him,
Staring back at me,
He smiles softly and my eyes open wide,
The words linger on the tip of my tongue,
But they stay rooted in my brain,
As him and I both realize,
I am a boy.
i see the way you look at him,
holding his hand,
kissing him,
and i see you’ve been cursed.
cursed to love a man you never truly loved,
cursed to lose the girl who gave you butterflies.
if you were a boy,
you said, so many years ago,
i think i’d want to kiss you.
so unsure of yourself in your sentences
out of fear of being cursed with a life sentence
damnation, you said.
but how could a love so sweet be so wrong.
how cruel for a sixteen year old girl to hear these words,
i cut my hair,
i bound my chest,
i made myself a reflection of who the world wanted,
in order for us to be together.
i waited for you.
but time did not wait for us, my dear,
your parents laughed when you brought me home to meet them,
then their laughs turned to violence
when they saw us
said we were cursed,
laying with the devil
they turned your bright green eyes into
swollen shades of blues and purples.
now, nearly twenty years later,
i see you with him,
saccharine smiles,
absorbing his touch
like a reluctant sponge.
heartbreak is not nearly strong enough a word for this kind of pain.
my love,
we were never cursed,
the world was.
I saw the rage in his gaze,
His seductive art
I felt his digitus medius, longing to write his name inside my ****.
He charged up as usual
Still looking little unsettled with a sudden crash of energy,
I wanted to escape the situation, but his grip was tight and manhood hard
Enough to melt me down and
Drown in his love
Bowing in front of him
like a slave for an individual.
I could feel his warm breath
on my already perspiring neck.
His phallus expanding
making me lose my sense.
With his each powerful thrust
I wanted to take everything off my soul
Deciding to surrender my body
In front of a beast, I collide.
After all the chaos he already caused
His eyes were clear and bright.
I was his trophy
He won, gambling his own life.
His pearl whites were giving me bruises
His rough palms were squeezing out my juices
His legs powerfully
Intertwined with mine.
His voice murmured in my ear narrating
His passion, sorrows, and mysteries he hides.
He collapsed on top of me and
I was still burning inside.
I felt unworthy of what was happening to me and his eyes kept reciting
"Darling, I love you!
You're mine."
He continued carelessly incorporating
his wildness in the purity of my life
Surely, he made me swoon over his voice
Reading my lips making filthy signs.
Over his obscene touch and erotic noise
It was the moment when I felt
I cannot take it more
I found my self engrossed even more in his crotch every time.
He knew what I yearned for
he gave it all to me slowly
tearing me apart.
His warmth lay on my belly
And we felt glued together for the rest of our life.
-Prithvi Gulati
In quiet corners where no one sees,
Two hearts find solace, though love's not free.
A gentle touch, a fleeting smile,
In a world that deems their love a trial.
Their love, a secret they must protect,
From judging eyes and harsh neglect.
They hold each other in the dark,
Wishing the world would warm to their spark.
They dream of days without disguise,
Where love can live beneath open skies.
But for now, they whisper and wait,
Holding tight to a love the world won't celebrate.
There was something inside him
Screaming to be let out
Screaming to be seen
There was something inside him
But then he understood what it was
And she let it out
The way he gazes at the moon,
Doesn't quite feel right; every day he has a different tune.
I envy his starlight, the perfect fit for a groom
The kind that doesn't find a reason to fight
With much passion, I was drawn by his spiritual side,
Putting on a show with his flamboyant stride
Like a jewel, he sparkles brighter than 100 years of TWILIGHT
Without a remedy for fading away, I see no reason to stray
He has never shown an ego larger than mine.
Nor a side that needs to conceal how he feels inside.
For some reason, in this relationship, "I'm Always Right."
With my narcissistic personality, he complements my OCD.
When he dreams and closes his eyes,
I can sense and envision __ sunrise
Gorgeous, like a rainbow at any given moment
He's every fantasy come true, nevertheless, too good to be straight...
When he holds my hand, he wears a smile that lifts every mood.
This feels like heaven in any LGBTQ book everything feels good
No straight man gives a grin with every given look
With boundless joy and passion, sometimes I feel he fell from above.
Involved romantically, everything one might dream of.
The hues he wears are not of my yesteryear.
Vivid yellow, a reminder to himself of how happy life should be.
When he buys flowers, one can feel he's in love.
Not in love with me, but his unending SANITY.
Every night, he sits and shares his lovely poetic verses,
delightful between every course, he has me under a curse
Always writing about butterflies and Cloud Nine.
I won't mention his sensitive side, which is more intense than mine.
When we talk on the phone, I can feel the pleasure in his tone
Life with him feels like a novel; everything about him feels unreal.
It's surreal, sometimes I feel Danielle Steel wrote his fictional character
What if he's merely an angel in disguise? This would explain everything
Nevertheless!!! As my mother used to say
If he seems too good to be true, then he must be gay.
We were taught
that to be qu**r
means to be strange,
to be unlike the rest,
to be different,
but not in a way that would raise surprised brows
or taint eyes green with jealousy.
We were taught
that to be qu**r
means to be different
in a way that would produce uneasy “oh”s
or disapproving “how could that be”s.
To be qu**r was
a rising sea of loneliness drowning us
but later it became comforting furry blankets
we’d pull up to the tips of our heads at night—
there was safety in keeping our lips shushed.
You call it hiding in the closet
we call it an embroiling conflict with ourselves
of loving and hating,
of pretending to be not so different,
of letting your homophobic jokes slide,
of knowing that we’re silent because we’re also afraid to hear the truth—
that we’re also sometimes disconcerted by this part of ourselves,
for that’s just the way we do it.
We learn, over time,
as we find out that that kid in our Chemistry class
likes painting his nails,
and that girl in our neighbourhood
scribbles hearts over the Cara Delevingne posters on her bedroom wall,
we learn that maybe
we’re not so different.
We teach ourselves
to give to ourselves
the love we want to give to people who make our hearts flutter,
to accept ourselves
the way want to be by our mothers and fathers,
to embrace ourselves
the way we embraced that friend who came out to us.
We teach ourselves to take off the blanket and sleep in the open instead.
We teach ourselves to keep swimming and swimming no matter how ferocious the currents grow.
We teach ourselves to love all the seven hues in our skies
and to let go of the people who don’t find rainbows beautiful.
We teach ourselves to battle the ridicule and dismissals and bullying,
to no more despise the way our hearts beat.
We teach ourselves to no more pretend to be ’normal’
for we already are normal.
We no longer subdue our voices to the pits of our anxious stomachs
Instead, we sing in a chorus of the hues in our skies,
for we are here
and we are qu**r
and that’s just the way we do it.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
At the turn of the moon
It purges itself of its sins,
Washing away what lives could have been,
Punished for failing biological duties.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
Forever marked with the scarlet letter,
The big, bold, burning red “F”
Branded on the legal document
Of my consciousness.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
Its identity is not recognised by law;
A renegade, a libertine, toeing the
Tightrope lines between the accepted
And the unfathomable.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
Unconventionally painted in black,
With cellulite scars and deep tiger stripes
Permeating every inch of
The skin’s breathing surface.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
Not delicate, not loving, not pocket-sized,
Not built for the purpose of carrying
The weighty expectations of others,
Thrust upon it unwillingly.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
It's not shameful to own these Himalayan curves,
Cupids bow lips, blue eyes full of secrets;
Except, of course, when these parts
Are fetishised, demonised, criticised.
“That body is female!”, they tell me.
The timbre of its voice
Gives way to conjecture,
Its name forms the image of a doll-child;
Porcelain, with golden curls cascading.
"That body is female!", they tell me.
Rebelling against it is a cardinal sin
In the religion of female empowerment.
Denying its femininity, the body
Is a traitor to the cause.
"That body is female!", they screech.
The brain does not work that way;
It binds its breasts pridefully,
Shears away trestles damaged by bleach, and,
In defiance, paints on a brave face.
With rushing hands about our hips
and loving thoughts so hardly chaste,
let locked together be our lips
as equal rights we must posthaste:
for in love and in God we trust,
in them here in this psalm's the thrust.
This day we are an ardent pair
as we do our impassioned best
to disrobe ourselves and thus dare
to expose our fair, lovely breasts:
for in love and in God we trust,
in them here in this psalm's our thrust.
Full of fervent, delicious zeal;
we make love while it's pure delight
to show the world we'll not conceal
what seems so wrong but feels so right:
for in love and in God we trust,
in them here in this psalm's main thrust.
With disregard and with scorn, dare
we stand and fight for what's our right
to love, work, live, and prosper where
e'er we are, hidden or in sight:
for in love and in God we trust
(in this great nation of the just)!
Gay straight or confused, love urself and who ever else u chose. U want a sex change it's up to u, no1 else is living in ur shoes and It's ur life so you make the rules. Don't ever be uncomfortable cuz someone u love doesn't want to accept u. True love loves all of u, inside and out. Don't change cuz others find it strange and don't understand what it's about. If ur a boy that feels like a girl that's ok, u wanna wear make up then dress up.. that's ok! Are you a girl that like girls? That's ok. Ur a stud that likes a stud that's ok, only perverted men prefer the fem on fem. and even if a fem does love a fem, that's ok. Don't u see that who ever u chose to b is ok? what others in the world have to say. the rules of society, wear whatever u want because it's ur body! Ppl will judge and hate what they don't understand, they will be set on their ways and say a man belongs with a woman and woman can't be a man. I say love is loving urself, love is accepting above anything else. Love comes from within, it has no religion, no color and no skin. Love comes from a heart that is just beating. I support u and all that u do to make u happy and comfortable being u. I salute u, I am proud of u, I am with u, I applaud u, I am you!
At first it's just a glance or two
Then a blush before you knew
What was going on
Denial begins to dawn.
There is no way
That I could be gay…
But that girl is so pretty
She looks so soft, pity
That I like guys
It's the look in the eyes
Beneath her lids lie mysteries,
Easier to fall deep into
Previous thoughts ensue,
The curves of her lips pull my head askew.
But with his eyes there is a firmness,
A safe and solid surface
To be his boo
A joy renewed
A check with society says it's okay.
I like a guy so I can't be gay
...Right?
Your confidence in your strait bends,
What would happen if you talked to your friends?
Would they think i'm weird or gross?
Will I lose the people that are close?
I’ll figure it out on my own
I start to notice girls more
When they talk to me I stare at the floor.
A similar feeling comes up
When it's on guys I call it a crush.
I tell my mind to hush
In the safety of the screen I explore
I start questioning more.
A girl online,
A friend of mine
Asks me out
Inside I want to shout.
I hid the phone calls for a while
Covering the blushed cheeks and smiles.
Not letting anyone see
What would they think of me?
Clocks don't stop
And neither do the thoughts
Eventually I take the fall
I say f**k it all
Then to tell the friends,
Some say they already knew
One applauds my break though.
A few freeze
I feel my chest squeeze.
Rising strong is the fear of rejection,
Followed in close second by fear of disconnection
To those I care about
Most of them move past the freeze
The rest turned it into tease.
But friends don't last forever,
Especially those that can't handle this endeavor
Family stays with you
So my anxiety grew
First mom, then dad
Blank faces drove me mad
Their mouths spoke acceptance
Their eyes said animosity.
New rules are placed down
Making me feel like a clown
No sleepovers with friends anymore
No boys before, now no one
Many long emails packed with frustration,
And some ignorance duration
Acceptance came slowly
But is now embraced fully
Now in a house without fear,
I can truly be with and near
those I love without the apprehension
and fear of damnation.
Now my biggest secret is out
And I have no reason to doubt
I am Bisexual
Hold me,
And don’t judge me please.
I am your love,
I am your seed.
Created by you,
Molded differently.
How much more could our connection be?Art
Ready for Display,
Waiting to be pressed firmly.
Twirling with Irony.
Dancing through stick and stones,
Am I your love?
I am your seed.
Created with Energy,
Our connection soon to be.
Love me,
And Let judgment flee.
I am your heart,
I am your seed.
Oh How magical this knowledge should be.
Blissful, a pinch of melody,
A dash of heavenly.
I am your love,
I am your seed.
I am as free as we can be.
Art
Magnificent! Waiting to be framed and displayed on strong foundation.
Don’t judge me.
Hold me.
And please, let me be.
Buying corporate profit tickets
to this June's PRIDE event
does not feel therapeutic,
where once lived public trauma.
Another annual rite
of well-bred socialization
political masturbation
with no flavor of resistance
to white-washed Capitalism's greed,
to straight Patriarchalism's need
to rapaciously breed
to gluttonously feed
on humble margins
of truly empowered
LeftBrain dominant humanity
not RightBrain depressed
demonically repressed
satanically oppressed
devilishly suppressed
Right supremely unimpressed
by deeply felt insanity
born a profanity
against Earth's Straight
White
MonoTheistic God
False idol
of patriotic
nationalistic pride
parades before
and lingers after
sins against EarthMother's uncapitalized
poor in spirited nature
Our planet's
traumatically wounded child,
x-rated
x-rayed
x-cised
by homophobic
feministphobic
Afrophobic toxins,
divinely inspired hate,
monotheistic vengeance-is-mine
militaristic fate.
This, and future, summers of inclusive love,
I would give away invitations to proud PASSION,
co-passion
compassion
compassionate integrity
passionate enquiry
of Left erect
correct cognition
greets Right flowing
enlightened growing
synergy glowing
sacred felt reconnecting
concelebrations
Of timeless
dipolar co-arising parades,
out-rageous raving displays
of globally spectral
spectacular
spiraling circular rainbows
of regenerating strings
and co-passionate things
Sacred hope promises
form ribboned resonant faith
for love
of EarthTribe's holy
co-emergent DNA diversity
deeply held
in silent summer whispers
Inviting year-round
and full
and sweaty wet PASSION plays
stories
narratives
epic songs,
starred night light
and lunar displays
Flowing Right
Left strength
universally full
uniting Color
Healthy polycultures
wealthy multicultures evoking
not revoking
compassionating
never mindlessly sedating
fully woke
out celebrating
Earth's PASSIONTribe.
Her Kiss
Her kiss, a whisper, soft and light,
A gentle spark that fills the night,
Her lips meet mine in tender sway,
And all the world just melts away.
Our tongues entwine, warm and slow,
In depths that only we both know,
Fingers trace as pulses meet,
A hidden rhythm, soft and sweet.
Her kiss, like honey, rich and deep,
A sweetness only we both keep,
Each gentle caress, a sacred place,
Where love blooms, full of grace.
In her embrace, my heart feels free,
To taste her warmth, to simply be,
Her kiss—a truth, pure and clear,
The world fades, and she is near.
we started together,
you and i.
we grew as we
wandered this earth,
the smell of soil permeated our senses.
we stayed so close
our roots began to bond,
the origin of our creation
became a union, an abomination.
given the choice
between their doctrines,
and their children,
they chose the scripture.
instructions
on how to raise
saplings and sinners like us.
over time,
our roots were separated
into divisions.
they hoped
that the sunders
would prevent our sins.
as if grafting our stems
in new locations
would be a solvent.
but we are of a long line,
an adaptive family tree,
not connected by dna
but a community nonetheless.
we learned from our lineage
to forge our own paths
unafraid of the trek ahead.
despite the watering,
the spillage onto our new leaves as
an attempt to squander our strength,
we persevere.
but this drowning
continues
and digs
us
deeper
into
the
ground.
soon,
we're
six
feet
below
surface.
the leaves and the buds
have erroded,
diminished
into a future fertility
for the sediment.
their attempt
to drown us out
with a downpour
has succeeded,
the moisture turned to rot.
but my dear,
no matter where you
may rest now,
i know that in the end,
our bones will be laid the same,
and our remains will one day
grow again to full bloom.