Best Queers Poems
Often made to feel you’re less
Should you care any more?
Can you escape the cruelty,
while occupying your own shore?
People remain unbalanced,
by only seeing you one way.
For their minds travel Straight,
they can’t understand Gay!
The world has moved on,
so kiss guys or kiss girls.
Embrace Straight, Gay, Bisexual
or polyamorous with curls.
Yes, it shouldn’t matter,
love happens between the ears.
Yet sadly all some can do
is label others as Queers.
We each have our own needs
all ashamed and sorta broken.
Fearing what others might discover
elemental desires remain unspoken.
Where you place your bits in private
shouldn’t matter to her him or me
Freely embrace your sensual self,
Holding back is insanity.
So pass me a rainbow flag
To celebrate each one of you.
We can all come together
to support the many and the few.
If I have used any of my descriptors in a way that is offensive please let me know. I am in a state of learning.
IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA
BASE FORTHWITH.
ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS,
SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS,
WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, SHRINKS, COLONEL
CLINKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES,VENDORS, SUPPLIERS,
SALESMEN, ACCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS,
HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS,
COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS,
RELATIVES, FIANCES, BOYFRIENDS, GIRLFRIENDS, FRIENDS, FOES,
ENEMIES, EVIL NEMESIS’, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS,
TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS,
QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, FAGS, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY
ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, [PRE OR POST] MALE IMPERSONATORS,
DICKS, DYKES, VAN DYKES, DICK VAN DYKE, LESBIANS, LONGSHOREMEN,
SHORTSHOREMEN, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET
MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, JUVENILE DILINQUENTS,
SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS,
LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS,
DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS,
SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICENE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES,
WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS,
VIGILANTES, VICTIMS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS,
PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS,
RIGHT WING, LIBERALS OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS. THEY ARE NOT TO
CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBERS.
BUT, IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.
BA-ZING!
?
Wheel of fears and cheers etched tears in my years
swirling me to rumination that queers.
Lessons, I learned streak golden souvenirs
enlightening me in every frontiers.
Imprudent dusts blurred and hardened my heart,
tears on the wind rescued fiercely aghast
allowing me to behold rainbow skirt...
Firing my bravery ever not hush!
Onions in my eyes upraise bitterness,
drained my strength awhile, but without delay
same tears uphold me to deliverance
encompassing to each dawn - twilight lay.
Tears on the wind, my soulful song prayer.
Amazing grace revealed through all dried tears.
Tears - a heaven rain for my whole new birth
bathing my heart and soul wholly with mirth.
© O. E. Guillermo
11:23 am
May 22, 2014
Sponsor Vicky Tsiluma
Contest Name I'll be back!
Placed First.. to God be the greatest glory.
Cookery Programs
Chunky fists hit the kitchen sink...hard
on every TV channel.
So manly they are we are not queers
but 100% men,
no flowery aprons for us.
Cooking was what women did before,
but no more,
now you get the Sunday roast with added
aggression and swearing.
The kitchen has been turned into
a battle field of egocentric men who´s
ambition is to be the best in
the rarefied world of cookery
It is not about you the diner.
When the kitchen soldiers put food
on your plate,
they try to make it into a work of art
when all you wanted was a steak and fried onions
at a friendly price.
About a year
to clear out the fear
of lying
down under the resounding thunder
About time
that I see the crimes
or find the time
to think
About time
I have seen the dream
and felt the pelt
of half wit help and fall down
gravitational pull
the wool over the eyes
and fall down lies
about time to stop the lies
About time to see the tears
ripped without peers
and flapping like listenings
that belong to queers
About hope
I don't mesh with rope
or grope for slopes
that take me down
Around time
I saw the lines
that fled through shrines
and didn't believe
that in time
I might be fine
I find it humorous how folks like to say, "multicultural",
Multicultural is a very safe euphemism,
For it euphemizes mass incarceration and exploitation.
It enables organizations to create one slot for any brown, yellow, or red character
and call themselves "progressive".
Meanwhile we brown, yellow, red, and black, fight like dogs for their approval.
Well I say, their approval is of little consequence, for it is God that they must
ultimately answer.
And God sees all.
Black People, Black Queers, Black Rape Victims, are not multicultural.
We did not come here with hope, we came here in bondage and have been in
bondage ever since!
How many times must I listen to so called allies say, "But what about the
Vietnamese, for they have issues too?"
As if it should be my added burden to make sense of their problems?
My people built this nation plain and simple.
They worked for no wages and built the foundation for American prosperity.
And now "progressive" liberals think that they can grasp this experience?
How I ask you?
How can they know?
As they struggle to empathize from their rooftops.
From rooftops all people look the same.
It is only from the street that one can grasp the nuances.
Black women are not multicultural.
They are the recipients of an abominable legacy of injustice which continues ad-
nauseum.
I challenge anyone who thinks they understand, to humble themselves and
finally deign to ask me for my opinion.
For I have lived the hell of miscegenation! And the sodomy of emasculated
voices in alliances on this and that.
And even as you read this, your minds are too numb to grasp the full measure of
its venom.
And still, God loves me too.
Venom and all.
For God is not afraid of the requeim that awaits us.
No God is not afraid at all.
Trails of laughter amid tears
Tales of the ancients rake pensive queers
History is but present hollowly thought
Experienced oceans of belittled naught
Swelling chest and above the eyes
That constantly gaze on high
We hear the change of the believed
Rainwater drips into the pangs of eve
Enamored upon the brink of a wind’s tide
A tapestry of the softest gold beside
It is the tip of the highest sorrow
That brings a happy tear to the morrow
Look back, but upon the wind you stay
Treasure ashes remain acceptance, gray
Leaves curling dutifully brown
As the knowing tiger lilies frown
Prison guard of the future
With a hardened face revealing today
Be present at best in an experienced face
Into the eyes that trace true pain
A stripped continent
N a input a dominance
Tried to feed a them a civilized consciousness
By rapin our history til the condem spilts
Held in bondages
Wonder where is the lord we suppose to be so fond of is
Black women best job was to produce the finest ox
Young strong and able presented on the dock
Our perspective left out of textbooks
In media it says this how a threat looks
you committed the greatest theft
And gave white Jesus breath
Gather in crowds over deceased flesh
Preist would preach in glee death
Yet we the barbarians
Behind bars you bury men
Color range there no variance
Honey there evil wicked scary men
Basically we socities beast
Took people who were psychologically beat
Put them in one place each side of the street
N put drugs guns n poverty n then say compete
400 years of slavery
Results in sanity for the brain to seek
Most gruesome killings in humanity
Culture stripped for our fellow man to see
We the beast
You try to tell us we full of excuses
********
Stop down sizing it the fact you the reason the black mind has been
ruptured
You stole our history and tried to construct
The lions story always differs from the hunter
You took a baby suckin milk from his mother
Burned crosses defaced your lord
To cause horror
Blew up houses bodies desecrated
And crated
5 centuries of being told we been a sin since created
Act like we all one while you mask the fact you're a racist
We're inhumane
I wonders if sane
Runs through the same veins
We have every right to be pissed and camp pain
You responsible for the trail of tears
Why gays are queers
Or concentration camps the fear of intrapment
A man has to starve himself for equal pay for Latins
Make decisions with selfish intention
Make the man hold their child you rape their women
With humiilty as the incentive
For the title of beast we the 90's Clippers when it comes to that
contention
Outrageous ruling started with State vs Mann
Few in between Emitt Teal fast forward to Oscar Grant
You destroy with passion
Ku Klux Klan celebrates MLK passin
But yet we the beast? That's your perception
But you scared to look in the mirror the beast lies in your reflection
Delhi seems closer than it was last time.
After a tea with GST,
on to a backstreet of Varanasi,
Untouched by authority;
ignored more by memory
than darkened by amnesia.
A huge black cow lazes about,
like a Moghul monarch blocking
half the street. It won’t let the OLA pass.
At the hoary-holy sanctum,
my poor drops of milk from a paper cup
pour on to the Lord’s cosmic crown.
Ganga, here, is a very old Benares
fraying at the edges, laid out in the open.
So still, like samana, the balancing prana.
From a boat I watch how human flesh fuels
the firewood at the Harichandra ghat..
Benares eyes Harichandra rather darkly.
Then, the Ganga Arati at 6.30
Their off-white attire. The huge lamps they hold
and draw patterns with, in the air.
Lines with the solemn predictability
of a Ravi varma . Ganga is a new Miss world by now.
At the Manikarnika ghat too, bodies dutifully burn.
In the dark, Death sparkles like huge fireflies;
pampered by pundits and Sanskrit
I lie in an OYO at Godowlia so ill.
So close to mukti. A godsend of a doctor
At Matha Anandamayi hospital queers my pitch..
One of a tribe long extinct in Serpent town,
his fees: ‘whatever you please’.
I remember hospitals back in Kerala.
Thank god, I was not in one there.
Else, I would have hit hell by now, looking for money.
Sure, the ‘path to hell is paved with good intentions’
( of corporates and false swamis)
Notes:
Varanasi: It is also called Benares and Kashi, One of the holiest of cities in India, known for its temple, by the Ganges, dedicated to Lord Shiva.
OLA : The taxi cab app, OYO : An app to find hotel rooms.
Serpent town : Trivandrum, Samana : One of the five pranas(breaths), the equalizing prana.
No matter how accepting society becomes,
it's hard being a *****.
You feel you're not part of,
like you don't belong here.
Queers and gays,
are not sexual deviants.
No, were not missing
any ingredients.
Being *****,
is not evil or a curse,
It's not something,
we practice or rehearsed.
It's not a sin,
wrong, weird or strange,
It's not a phase,
or something we can change.
No one should have to hide,
who they are?
We are not retarded,
no need to lower the bar.
We all have our inner demon,
and things we fear.
Gay-bashing only happens,
if you’re a *****.
We should be allowed,
to love who we love.
Two people same gender,
don't make a federal case of.
From day one all we hear,
is that we have a flaw.
It's like always getting,
the short end of the straw.
Most of us choose,
not to wear a mask,
Why you choose to be *****?
the question that they ask.
We hear a lot of,
we won't ask you don't tell,
They pray for us,
were headed straight for hell.
After all we are part,
of the human race,
Your opinion shows,
on your face.
TURBO1904
I've got Jesus's face on a wallet insert
by Michael R. Burch
for the Religious Right
I've got Jesus's face on a wallet insert
and "Hell is for Queers" on the back of my shirt.
And I uphold the Law,
for Grace has a Flaw:
the Church must have someone to drag through the dirt.
I've got ten thousand reasons why Hell must exist,
and you're at the top of my fast-swelling list!
You're nothing like me,
so God must agree
and slam down the Hammer with His Loving Fist!
For what are the chances that God has a plan
to save everyone: even Boy George and Wham!?
Eternal fell torture
in Hell's pressure scorcher
will separate *****from Man.
I'm glad I'm redeemed, ecstatic you're not.
Did Christ die for sinners? Perish the thought!
The "good news" is this:
soon My Vengeance is his!,
for you're not the lost sheep I sought.
Keywords/Tags: Religion, Christ, Christianity, Jesus, Heaven, Hell, Gay, Homo, Homosexual, *****, Queers, Law, Grace, Save, Salvation, Eternal Torture, Redeemed, Sinner, Sinners, Sheep, Shepherd, Vengeance, Satire, Parody
Light
eluded in order to maintain the skin white
by darkness
has crafted
the character
flexed arms of
legacy bestowed Cross
have wipe out
everything
that didn't want to become a reason for hate
but, God adores equilibrium
that's why he created queers.
Conservatives’ banning’s apropos of nothing
At twelve when he delt with this
shouldn't have to jump through hoops
should’ve been able to explore when a teen
But because of many conservative groups
The Ire excessive was the coming of age
Juvenile mistakes made in adult years
Denied the ability to pick up social skills
Sexual assault and sexual awaking
considered pornographic
Q**r’s often live a second adolescents
This is a guide for the coming of age allies
States have taken off the shelves
Intersectional as his life
Chapters are a collection, four acts
referred to as “parts” in this guide
self-contained essay’s
The memoir progresses through Johnson’s life
Two letters appear alongside
the chapters for mother and brother
Conditioned to think what’s the truth
Indoctrinated in us
Stop crying, racialized
School bullies
The flee market incident
Institutionalized violence
Family structure marginalized
Community –college fraternity
And black joy
Tells the truth
A black and q***r boy’s experience
Gender identity
Toxic masculinity
Brotherhood
His offer of friendship and close affinity derided,
disowned as a kin by the bat, the rebuffed rat retorted:
"Snobbish acrobat, you're so rude, unschooled in civility;
with nocturnal queers like you I hate to have affinity.
Stinking, skin-winged flapper of the night, your boasts are many;
but look at you, swinging feet up, head down, stupidly funny.
One day, like an umbrella needing repair, you'll flip-flop down
and be with us you so despise whose paws touch the earthy ground!"
Indeed, in choosing a relative, one must be tentative,
for not all creatures of the same fur swing close together, Sir.
insanity abounds,
but not bad as it sounds,
the white coat men appear,
and get ya by the ear,
are yelling loose the hounds,
but yer outa bounds,
till soon yer outa town,
where no one interferes,
cept some frail ole queers,
its all goood so don't frown,
says johnson so sincere