If our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours— Radclyffe Hall
Explore themes of love and identity
Of Stephen Gordon’s innate sense of masculinity
Since a child, her desire, ‘women’
The idea that if love is considered a sin
The unfolding of a female sexual invert
The act of loving must be a tender selfless act, revert?
Love itself is not inherently sinful or
complexities of love, we shan’t ignore
But rather the circumstances surrounding it
Misfits from Malvern to London and then to Paris!
Ira furor brevis, the frailty, taboo and strife
Fellow q***r characters, all walks of life
From the *sapphic salon hostess Valérie Seymour
To the 'miserable army' and more
of outcasts that frequents the 'merciless
Drug-dealing, death-dealing' bars of Montmartre
Written in another time, still support and solidarity to
generations of LGBTQ genre
*Sapphic is an umbrella term for same-gender loving women or woman-aligned people, including lesbians and bisexual+ women. It is used to describe topics, activities, and ideas related to same-sex attraction among women. The term can also refer to the Greek lyric poet Sappho.
After All Is Said And Done, I'm a Rainbow;
A Persistent Rainbow That Is Visible In All Lighting Conditions;
Unique In Both Body & Soul From Everyone Else;
I Have a Soul Made Of Gold & a Soul Made Of Rainbow.
I've Always Felt Like An Alien With No Identity;
No Desire For Glory, & Only Wisdom Gained Through Suffering.
When I Think Back On Those Memories;
I Feel As Though My Emotions Have Been Repeatedly Used As Props In a Cruel & Twisted Game;
Almost Driving Me To The Brink Of Insanity.
I Feel As If There Is No Point In Love Anymore;
Because I Am Being Pursued By Myself;
&
Am Alone In a Dark & Lonely Hallway.
I Must Continue To Act As Though My Life Is Anything But Gray.
As The Rising Sun, The Dawn Came In Softly & Slowly;
&
So Did My Suffering.
Maybe Unexplained Or Unexpected Feelings;
Which Have Been Ignored;
A Sudden Melancholy Skulking In The Silence;
Awaiting The Arrival Of This Day.
The Days Have Regrettably Passed Since We Parted Ways;
About 4 Years Ago, & I Now Wonder If There Was Anything I Could Have Done;
I May Not Have Needed To Spend As Much Time In The Closet;
I Probably Need To Have Paid Closer Attention To How You Felt About Being Anonymous;
Or;
To Anything Else That Would Have Kept You By My Side;
I Am Sorely Missing You Right Now.
My Thoughts Are Hitting Barriers, & My Tears Are Falling Like Waterfalls;
All With Photographs Of You;
Including Your Wild Hairstyles;
Wild Kissing Technique;
All-Gleaming Beard;
Lovely Eyes;
Beautiful Voice;
Undetectable Abs;
&
Silly Smiles.
The Monotonous Music You Listened To In Your Place;
I Can Still Hear Them Playing In My Head From When I Visited;
I Still Occasionally Hear Them In My Brain;
Which Is Shocking, But I Genuinely Miss You & Those Awful Songs.
Tell me—
Did you fear the
Rumors?
About me, us, ilk?
Greedy and needy and yearning
For what you
Cannot give us!
I’m her—your
Worst fear
Given flesh.
Insatiable, hungry
Consumed with a need no
One can meet.
I mean it. No one. Biologically impossible.
I do want it all.
In me, around me, on me,
Breathe in the smell of one and
Taste
Another.
I’d beg,
Really.
I am everything wrong,
But I feel so right
I want to be loved and
Used.
I don’t think the two
Thing are mutually
Exclusive.
A proud agnostic, but a bit fair,
Truth of truths to me once did aver—
A guy clear as blue sky,
If per chance a bit wry:
If I know not, no one knows either!
Agnostic sure an either or bird,
Milk gone sour as if turned into curd,
One that fakes two-way fun,
To me, all said and done
Be the bisexual of this odd world.
________________________________
Reflections |03.05.2023| humour
Okay, it’s true- I’m into you.
I know your girl and so am I,
But I can’t help that you make my heart
Fly.
Although, I do- I like boys, gentle Kings of Troy
It took me long to figure out,
But I finally know what my sexual attractions all about.
I don’t think that I could do without,
As it’s just a part of me you see.
I myself like to cross dress,
History… it is the rest.
Minds can draw dividing lines
in different natural spaces
sacred special uniting places
for secular powering chases.
Nature makes poles
and power polarity,
holes
and light circularity,
bright yangs
and dualdark yintegrity
Which spirited minds refine
and natural bodies define
but integrity is not image confined
by these cooperatively determined lines
back through universally wealthy loves
uniting healthy interweaving lives.
We make cognitive distinctions
between quiet emotive attractions
and loudly ejaculative extinctions,
where feelings find
finely balanced tipping points
between what whole has been
and who will yet consecutively
consequentially become
spaciously reappointed
As we undivided are
whom we have been
and much
much potentially more
Beyond our favorite
bottom line integrity
privileged score,
healing Earth sacred weal
Wealthing wikitheistic wellness
when we stop drawing only straight
unwavering lines,
monotheistic bipolarities
to addictively adore.
Even cartoon characters must go Woke?
Guess Tinsel Town must be broke ?
Close all the churches, why, yes!
There is no sin anymore, I sadly, guess.
The only sin is, if you dare to think...
If you are not Woke, you frankly,stink!
On sites, you dare express yourself?
You get insulted and set on a shelf.
Get out the Woke Gestapo Uniforms.
Out to destroy anyone not going along.
You and your poetry,hated to the max.
How dare you not follow every Woke fact?
At this site, nary a tribute for you!
Just insulted in poetry,for you being you.
There is a killer pandemic here called hate.
Please keep being you, for such is your
outstanding, yet loathed fate!
8/14/2021
10am PST
At crossroads I am met
disguised behind a mask.
A gambler would bet
I shall not beat the task.
For I am torn in two
beaten to a point.
Not knowing what to do
my bones are aching joints.
Between the girl I love
and the man that I adore.
One graceful as a dove
the other never bores.
She sees into my eyes
my pain he does sympathize.
Beautiful she is a crystal
rugged he does hypnotize.
She is scared to be alone
he feels he is unknown.
Yet for her I am there
and for him I do care.
Would she laugh at me
and would he mock me so?
I am scared to wait and see
for really I don’t know.
Truly, I’m losing my mind
hiding behind my mask.
Why is strength so hard to find
to walk to them and ask.
Jason Garrett Crittenden
Poetry name: literary Lucifer (the bringer of light)
Contact email: lordmidas2019@gmail
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